If I Had A Million Dollars...

There’s only one thing that would ever stop me from watching live television coverage of the final day of the Masters… okay, two, if you count Gillian Anderson turning up at my door… and I suppose that if I was trapped down a well (again) or under something heavy – like kryptonite – then that would be three. Or four.

So, amongst several things – seemingly – that would stop me watching the final round of the Masters was the thing I did last night – which was to go and see the Best Live Band In The World.

“You mean to say Neil that The Signals have reformed and are playing secret warm up gigs before embarking on an all out assault for world domination once again?” squealed my Mum incredulously when I started to tell her the story at lunchtime today.

“Well.. eh.. yeah,” I replied, “but that’s not till later in the year.”

“So who did you go and see last night?” she enquired, having now refrained from punching the ceiling with excitement.

“Barenaked Ladies,” I announced, enjoying the awkward moment and sniggering into my coffee cup.

“I’ll get your father.”

Seriously, I defy anyone to attend a Barenaked Ladies gig and NOT enjoy it. As well as being the tightest and most harmonious outfit I’ve ever seen, they just entertain from start to finish and their huge back catalogue of catchy, melodic tunes contains not one filler.

But that’s not all. Ten minutes after the gig ends you can go to the merchandise stall and pick up an audio copy of the gig you’ve just witnessed on one of these fancy-pie, flash storage media-type thingys. How cool is that? Unfortunately, my rapid ageing seems to require more frequent Aural Wax Eradication treatments because I’ve had this thingy clipped to my ear all day and I’m straining to pick up the merest hint of “One Week” or “It’s All Been Done”. Any and all advice gratefully received. And catch the band whenever they play a town near you. I GUARANTEE you’ll enjoy it.