grime (gr m)
n.
The beaty woop-woop music made by people like Skam, Kano and Lethal Bizzle
n.
Black dirt or soot, like that weird shit we found underneath the kitchen unit in the corner that we’d never dared clean before. And what you see on the floor in the Old Duke
More stolen images - thanks, fancyapint!
See, there’s me thinking that British trad jazz was a comfortable, chicken-supreme-n’-glass-of-white affair, with little connection to the drinking and dancing habits of the rebel youth who like music made by those above. But then, take yourselves along to the OD of an evening. It’s a mad old mash-up of every age-group possible, all leerily necking that weird orange Thatchers cider, smoking furiously at the tables outside, and generally adding to the filth that coats this old institution. Someone told me they did food in here; I dread to think. I really do.
But anyway – it’s brilliant, often raucous and defiantly boozy, even slightly unnerving at times, mostly because the crowd is such a chaotic jumble of odds and sods and they’re all listening to bands with names like “Cass Casswell’s Monster Trio” or “The Frampton Footwarmers”, firing out Dixieland classics, bebop, jive, swing… all that business.
It’s an awesome package of hilarity, tabs and unheralded, brilliant music – a proper pub music venue, the best place to listen to jazz I’ve yet found, and a Bristol institution. It laughs at the boring, tourist-baiting Llandoger Trow opposite and spits a wad of tobacco in its face.