UK Tour/week 2🎺🎷☕ Rude Boys on Tour: Tales of Ska, Sweat & Espresso Martinis ☕🎷🎺

🎺🎷🐊☕ Sunny Coast Rude Boys: Inflatable Crocs, Tesco Congas & Didgeridoo Carnage (The UK Tour That Shouldn’t Have Happened) ☕🐊🎷🎺 (Click here for Pics!)

With the first weekend of utterly shambolic brilliance under our belts (and several kebabs inside them), we were feeling unstoppable. After somehow selling out Saturday’s London gig—despite Jimmy accidentally advertising it as a “knitting circle” on Facebook—we awoke on Sunday in ‘Rude Boy Towers,’ our Airbnb in Tottenham.

This was no ordinary Airbnb. The host had decorated entirely in leopard print, and there was a taxidermied weasel in every room.

Steve the Bass Goblin was in the kitchen, still wearing his stage clothes and brewing coffee in a kettle because he’d “misplaced the French press.”“Tastes like burnt fear,” he muttered, slurping anyway.

Tony was simultaneously restringing his guitar and scrolling Airbnbs in the Scottish Highlands.“I’m going bush, lads. No gigs. No phones. Just me, Nessie and three litres of Irn-Bru,” he declared.“You’ll last five minutes,” Brookesy snorted.“You’ll last five seconds if you keep eating my croissants,” Tony shot back.

Meanwhile, Mick was wrestling suitcases down three flights of stairs while reciting his Dublin pub crawl plans like a prayer.“Guinness… Mam’s roast… Guinness… more Guinness… God help me.”

🎯 Friday 4th July: SKAGATE FESTIVAL, Margate UK 🎯

Somehow, despite hangovers that could stun an ox, we reassembled in Margate. Naturally, we started at the pub.

“This pint is purely medicinal,” said Govi, sipping it with shaky hands.“Same,” said Lee, already eyeing the cocktail menu.

We were buzzing. SKAGATE wasn’t just another gig—it was the holy grail of horn sections, the Mecca of moonstompers.

After checking into SCRB HQ (aka another cursed Airbnb, this one smelling faintly of vinegar and broken dreams), we shuffled into Olby’s for soundcheck.

Silky & Top Kat from Death of Guitar Pop greeted us like long-lost ska cousins. Cue hugs, high fives and questionable memories from their 2022 Australian tour.“Remember when we stole that inflatable crocodile and crowd surfed it through the Gold Coast?” Silky asked.“No,” Top Kat said flatly.“Exactly,” Silky grinned.

📦 Merchandise, Mayhem & Martyrs 📦

The rest of the day descended into bedlam: ✔ Wrestling the demon EFTPOS machine into submission (it spoke only in French for some reason). ✔ Herding 10 band members like feral cats into the green room to iron sweat-drenched gig clothes. ✔ Chasing the inflatable koala (again) when it escaped into the car park.

“Why does my shirt smell like bin juice?” asked Jimmy.“Because you slept in it… on a bin,” Angus deadpanned.

🎤 Showtime: Enter the Carnage 🎤

The crowd was ska royalty: feather cuts, braces, tattoos, and enough Doc Martens to open a factory.

“They look like they’d eat us alive,” whispered Liam, already halfway into the koala suit.“Let’s give ‘em a reason to,” Mick grinned.

We exploded into the set: blaring horns, skanking guitars, Steve’s bass shaking the walls.

By the second song (RUDEBOY TAKEOVER), the skeptics were nodding. By the fourth (ska’d up Land Down Under), they were moshing like deranged kangaroos.

Then came the Incident.

Mid-song, the didgeridoo—yes, we brought a didge—slipped from Mick’s hands, rolled across the stage, and launched itself into the mosh pit like a battering ram.

“INCOMING!” someone shouted.

The crowd parted like the Red Sea as the inflatable koala chased after it, Liam screaming from inside.

“This is either genius or a lawsuit waiting to happen,” muttered Lee, blowing a trombone solo.

🥂 Backstage Espresso-fuelled Anarchy 🥂

We finished to raucous cheers, high-fived our way offstage, and immediately cracked out the emergency espresso martini kit.

“This is how professional musicians celebrate,” Phil declared, shaking the martini shaker so hard he nearly dislocated his shoulder.

“You can’t spell ‘martini’ without ‘martyr,’ lads,” said Govi, slamming his glass down.

We ended the night flogging leftover merch, including a “limited edition” Sunny Coast Rude Boys tea towel someone made as a joke. It sold out instantly.

🎯 Saturday 5th July: SKAGATE (Day 2) 🎯

After a tactical sleep-in and a kebab the size of a small pony (“Doner McGregor mode: ENGAGED”), we swaggered back into Olby’s like conquering heroes.

We caught up with Section 8 (banger merchants), Rookie Number (ska chaos masters), and DJ Ska & Mash (our new spiritual guide).

“Let’s bring the thunder tonight,” said Sive, doing stretches in full stage gear.“Let’s bring the panadol first,” Steve groaned, clutching his head.

🔥 Saturday Blowout: Tesco Conga Edition 🔥

The gig? Pure madness.🎷 Sive kung fu kicked for the audience mid sax-solo, in skin tight leather pants she borrowed off Phil.🎸 Tony skanked so hard he split his jeans.🎺 Lee started with a fake severed hand duct-taped to his trombone and ended up leading a conga line through a nearby Tesco (“They had two-for-one Marmite!”).🥁 Govi smashed his snare so hard it’s now technically classified as modern art.

By the encore, the audience were dancing like their lives depended on it.

Death of Guitar Pop took the stage & put on a truly professional headliner show. They are a slick fine tuned machine & a greatly needed breath of fresh air for a subculture that is still well up for a party, and farrrrkin' ell do they connect with their people!!... a masterclass in stagecraft & community building... Nice One.

🎉 The End (…Until Next Time) 🎉

Our first UK tour: a catastrophic success.

“We came. We skanked. We conquered Tesco,” Mick declared, espresso martini in hand. “I’ve still got spicy kebab sauce on my trombone,” muttered Lee, "sounds painful!" shouted Angus. “I wish we had the croc suit as well as the koala one... Maaaate! everyone knows, ya never go on tour without the inflatable croc?!,” added Liam solemnly.

A sum up out UK tour.?.... As our Essex mates would say…💥 BOSH! 💥