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| Right sort |
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| Wrong sort of wedge |
A foggy, grey day at London Bridge. The Shard reaches up, disappearing into thick cloud like Jack's beanstalk. On the train I try to disappear into my table seat corner. I am enjoying the conversation of my table companions so much that I do not want them to start stranger-censoring. They are roadie geeks, all working for the same production company. Big tours, and big names. Rolling Stones. Kasabian. Muse. They are talking people - nightmarish road managers, difficult venue administrators, violent promoters. But their real passion is reserved for kit talk - wedges, PRO6s, flight cases, Thunder Audio, SSE Triple Showtechniek, Clair Brothers, and Andrea Bocelli's custom-made goose-neck microphone stand (only two exist in Europe). The micro-detail of a different world is irresistible.
My favourite of the three has aggressively red hair, and a long Amish-style ginger beard. Pierced nose, and band T-shirt. He's asked for his opinion on a particular sound system. Finger-rakes his beard as he considers. Then announces in ringing tones - 'Louder than God. No feedback.'
Not that Amish then.
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