Built on the site of the original Weyhill Fair, the pub of the same name was, once more, hosting the annual real ale and real music extravaganza. Saturday’s line-up of six different acts, all based in or around Andover, covered a wide musical spectrum. Blues, rock, blues/rock, metal, punk, grunge and pop – and that was just the sound check!

Bare Wires kicked off the proceedings with a half-hour set and were swiftly followed by Pretty Vacant, Stonepig and Less Is More. An acoustic set by Ben Black gave everyone’s ears a brief rest, before Bare Wires beamed down from their particular galaxy, with the theremin-fuelled middle bit from Led Zep’s ‘Whole Lotta Love’. Each band had a 70 minute second set and with the benefit of a dress rehearsal two days before, the Wires had meticulously planned and honed their act down to the last nanosecond. Naturally, this all went out the window half way through and songs were plucked from their considerable repertoire, as the mood of the crowd dictated.

All of the other bands stormed through their second sets and the acoustic duo Sofa Kings did their thing. AC/DC’s ‘Highway to Hell’ and the Proclaimers ‘500 Miles’ were performed as a mix and match offering from members of various bands and shortly after 11.30 it was all over. The crowd of merry revellers wandered off into the night, wet on the inside and the outside (it had rained for the majority of the day), but they were as happy as a newt and looking forward to the next Festival.

It was over for the audience, but the miles of cables, the microphones, the amplifiers, the mixers, the lights and the showroom quantity of Gibson guitars, all had to be dismantled and packed away. Your correspondent didn’t get home ‘til 1.30, satisfied in the knowledge of a good job, well done. Apart from the end bit of the Faces tune…

The function was held in what estate agents (remember them?) used to call a useful out building, of a size to make many village halls envious. Certainly many guests were envious of the fridge full of beer. It was not all ale and pies though, with plenty of wine, or fruit based drinks, for the ladies. A whole pig awaited our attention on the barbeque and accompaniments of applesauce and stuffing were thoughtfully provided.

Catering for lots of people is always difficult, so whilst waiting for the hog-roast, the Band worked up an appetite and a thirst by playing a few numbers. The first set was abandoned with indecent haste as soon as the grub arrived. There was a slight problem with the stuffing. Stuffing down a second, pork filled bap, so quickly, could have ended in tears. It was tears of pleasure for several ladies though, when the marshmallows and chocolate fountain were wheeled out.

Fully refreshed, Bare Wires got down to business and tore into a collection of concert favourites to entertain the crowd. On several numbers guest musicians on drums, guitar and mandolin joined the band. Joining us for Crossroads, the visiting drummer announced “It must be 30 years since I’ve played this!” but made a decent fist of it despite the intervening decades. For the final song ‘Mustang Sally’, a bevy of backing singers huddled round the microphone, giving yet another added dimension to the recital.

As the funky, wah-wah sounds of Car Wash burst from the P.A. Bare Wires’ job was done and they selflessly turned their attention to emptying that fridge.

Though judged to be ‘heavy in the paddock’, after dragging all their gear from the car park to the first floor of the Grandstand, the band looked several pounds lighter. The crowd had all arrived early to study form, sip nourishing, hop-based products and get out of the foul weather. It was unusual to have a packed audience watching the equipment being set up, but nice to see every bit of feedback being fully appreciated.

Playing to their largest audience yet, the Wires tore into the set like men possessed, only to be told to turn it down a bit. “You’ll frighten the horses!” The one disappointment of the gig was that we could only perform between races and before last bets. As we stood about waiting for the starter’s gun, several itinerant punters enquired as to whether we ever played at all! Despite the lack of momentum people got into it, danced in mysterious ways, sang along, after a fashion, and generally amused themselves.

The sound was good too, helped no doubt by the recently purchased Peavey PA speakers which as well as being much louder, are much crisper and clearer too. Well, that’s enough of the technical talk, except to inform the guitar freaks amongst you that it was a Les Paul night. The Telecaster was given a run out in the pre-match warm up, but consigned thereafter to the substitute’s bench. Stiffening up the defence was the familiar sight of a sunburst Jazz Bass, keeping the Fender flag flying.

The set list has gradually expanded over the last few months and we now have the luxury of leaving numbers out. Rumours suggesting that as each song was announced, someone shouted “Leave it out!” are entirely unsubstantiated. Thin Lizzy’s ‘Don’t Believe a Word’ and Cream’s ‘White Room’ were accompanied by many a flailing head. Fortunately, no Status Quo-style bopping accompanied ‘Walkin’ By Myself’, despite the comments of a drummer - who wishes to remain anonymous.

By way of a change, during the break between sets, an acoustic showcase featuring Ben Black, entertained the assembled throng. Displaying confidence beyond his years, Ben sung and played half a dozen songs, which were well received and must have been a welcome respite for the girls behind the bar! Check out Ben on http://www.myspace.com/benblackacoustic

Even after all these years, few tunes unite an audience like a good old belter from the Rolling Stones. As the familiar refrains from Honky Tonk Women and Brown Sugar rang out across the bar, even a bit of dancing broke out. It was enough to warm the cockles.

Naturally, the rain started to fall almost as soon as people began arriving, but fortunately the band was to play in a rather smart little marquee/gazebo. Being the height of summer and with alcohol coursing through the partygoers veins clothing was, once more, exchanged. This time though it was borrowed jumpers in evidence, as temperatures plummeted. The weather did not deter the band or the resident labradoodle, who was as happy as Larry in the wet, with dozens of new friends to stroke him and the off chance of a surplus sausage coming his way. And they say it’s a dog’s life! In order to maximise his chances, the hound regularly checked out the busy barbeque area, where beef patties and snorkers were being grilled, vigorously. This facility was quickly christened the Big Banger Burger Bar.

At the crack of 9.30 (ish) Bare Wires struck up the first riff of the evening. The second riff of the evening quickly followed and was remarkably similar to the first one. Yes, it was that old blues call-and-response thing going on, as the two guitarists swapped licks (I don’t mean that in a Biblical sense either). Soon the joint was rockin’ as the well-honed Wire’s set list, stormed out of the PA system. On the night we were augmented by Mark on keyboards, who had travelled several yards to jam with the band, living as he did, next door. Mark said later “Who would miss the chance to put that on their CV? - I played with Bare Wires when they were nothing!”

The show went ahead like a well oiled machine, though some were obviously more oiled than others. There were few problems on the night and the only feedback heard was that deliberately wrenched from a Fender amp. Admittedly, there was the moment when Jonathon’s lead became detached in the middle of a searing solo, but being a seasoned professional he rammed that jackplug back in before almost anyone noticed. Well I say few problems, half way through our second set, Ian the drummer nodded towards the bass player’s pint, which Dave had proudly, scavenged from an almost empty cask. Dave thought he was indicating that the vibration from the bass amp, was moving the glass across the plywood it was standing on. Shortly afterwards, the parched bassist reached for his ale, only to find that an enormous slug had got there first! Apparently they prefer a straight glass. I bet Coldplay don’t have to put up with this sort of thing.

The pub itself has had a chequered history in recent years, until rescued by the current owners. It now provides excellent ale, dining and accommodation in fine surroundings and on Saturday 2nd June it provided a chance to hear Bare Wires in sparkling form. Kick off was somewhat tardy due to the ruthless pursuit of the sweet trolley by diners. One elderly lady, unsure as to the nature of the musical entertainment, deliberately ordered liqueur coffees in a desperate attempt to delay the onslaught of loud music. Nothing stops the Wires when they are on a mission and soon the lilting refrains of Messin’ With The Kid and You Really Got Me, rocked the joint.

An interesting selection of dancing accompanied various tunes and ranged from a slow Waltz, through the Foxtrot, to Sixties ‘Idiot Dancing’ and the iconic Dad’s Wedding Dance. One brand new dance floor manoeuvre, involved clothes swapping between chaps of the opposite sex. Such was the emotionally charged atmosphere towards the end of the first set. We won’t mention the underwear.

It was well past midnight when the final growl of an overdriven Fender amp was silenced and nearer two o’clock when your intrepid reporter got to bed. And he was staying there! (This proved to be useful in other ways. Certain members of the audience were able to avail themselves of the TV and tea making facilities, as the results of the ‘Any Dream Will Do’ telephone vote were announced).