"Fucking hell man, what you done?" There was blood all over my treasured MC5 shirt, still dripping. Shit, what had I done?

Let's start from the first telephone call, Saturday evening, 8 pm. It was Evans from the Indigos. "We're going to an invite only party over at The Big Bang's secret hide-out. The Big Bang, Copter and Grande Cobra are all playing, lots of Jack Daniels and plenty of rock and roll misbehaviour guaranteed. D'ya wanna come?" Now I don't know if the previous two day's shenanigans had drained my batteries or if it was the absolute horror that is Saturday night TV that had left me numb but...

"Thanks but no thanks Evans. I'm a big girls blouse, all burnt out and in need of an early night (or something like that)." As soon as I'd hung up I thought, shit, I must be getting soft in my old age, immediately regretted passing up on such an offer but decided to stick with my original answer all the same. Two minutes later Jimmy Indigo called...

"We're going to an invite only party over at The Big Bang's secret hide-out. The Big Bang, Copter and Grande Cobra are all playing, lots of Jack Daniels and plenty of rock and roll misbehaviour guaranteed. D'ya wanna come?"

"To be honest mate..."

"See you at the train station in an hour" Click.

The guys had directions that eventually lead us to an industrial estate on the outskirts of Birmingham city centre. A phone call later and we were in. Alright!!! This was a scene, Baby. The building was a second floor unit that had been converted into a rehearsal space/hang out, equipment set up in one room, sound system and sofas in another. It was happening as soon as you walked in, loud rock and roll music playing down the hall, a makeshift bar just outside the kitchen, blood red lighting in the corridors and heads everywhere you went. More Max's Kansas City than the NME Awards, the perfect place to party. It was gonna be a good night. Ok, let's get a drink...

"A double Jack Daniels and Coke please mate." The bar consisted of a bench, bottles of Jack and bottles of vodka, a bunch of mixers, half a dozen crates of lager and a pile of takings. To say it was cheep and cheerful would be on the button.

"Sorry man, all the glasses are out but I can pour some Jack into a Sprite bottle and you guys can't pass it amongst yourselves why you wait, if you want." What a guy! The 2 litre bottle was a third full and Evans, Jimmy, Jimmy's girl and I passed it between the four of us as we stood watching Copter rock the place. I'd heard this band's name mentioned a while ago and was well chuffed to catch them. Any band that has a robot introduce them to the stage and proceeds to rock like the bastard children of John Sinclair are right up my street. Anyways, our complementary beverage disappeared so I left to get more. Still no glasses but a refill if we wanted? It would have been rude to refuse. As I was walking back to where Copter was still kicking up a stink Rich from the Mobsters appears. Then Sasha. Then the Grande Cobra, fresh from a gig in Coventry. Right on! I hadn't seen the Mobster guys or Aaron, Paulie or Janna for ages so it was a real buzz to see them... This is where it gets a little blurred.

I remember dancing in the DJ room for a while, more trips to the man with the booze, three huge David Lee Roth posters in the toilet, the fantastic hat that the Big Bang's guitar player was wearing, more booze, room-spin in the DJ room as 80's pop classics blasted out of the system, attempting to catch a glimpse of the GC and failing to even get into the room full of bodies, laughing with Rich in the kitchen area and the sound that went through my head as my chin hitting the tiled kitchen floor...

I must have gone into auto-pilot, picked myself up off the ground and walked out into the hallway. The first I knew of my state was when Rich Mobster came up to me. "Fucking hell man, what have you done?" What had I done? I looked down and could see blood dripping onto my shirt. Rich tilted my head back and suggested I got to a hospital. I lifted my finger up to my chin and felt a hole. It turns out that I slipped in the kitchen and crashed, jaw first, onto the floor. Not only was I bleeding like a pig from a gaping hole in my chin, I'd also managed to chip two of my teeth and give my right knee and my left elbow a severe knock too.

I remember little of the taxi ride to the Peel Hospital in Mile Oak but I do remember Jimmy (bless him) walking me into the hospital reception. I wasn't feeling too clever as you can imagine but decided, in my own rock and roll way, to make the most of it.

"Ok, get on the bed, let's have a look at you." I think the nurse's name was Tracy. "You're gonna need stitches in that cut young man."

"Shit, how many?" This was a new experience.

"Two, maybe three?" I could see some kind of perverse satisfaction on her face as she told me. She was gonna teach me a lesson, I thought.

"Ok, gimme three. Are you gonna numb me?" I knew the answer already. I was obviously out of my mind and deserved everything I got.

“I’m afraid not.” She replied. I let out a moan.
"Come on then, give it to me and try and be gentle." I lay back and clenched my fists. "Stop!" The nurse backed off, a none too serious 'what-now' kind of look on her face. "Will this hurt?" I asked.

"Oh, come on now. Don't be a girl." My hands began sweating. I caught a quick glimpse of the needle. She moved it. She had a nice smile. I wondered how old she was. She came closer. I took a deep breath.

"Fucking hell!" I felt the needle and thread pass through my skin. She smiled. Then she came at me again. "Ow, Jesus!" I could feel the cut being pulled together. I saw scissors, then needle, then, "Ow, c'mon now, this is agony!" She smiled a little bit more this time. I began to like it.

"Ok, we’re done. I'll just put some tape over the wound. Have you had tetanus in the last ten years?" I thought about lying.

"Yes...Well, no. Oh god. Do I need one?" I was beginning to feel like we were old friends by this point. Maybe we could meet up in five years time and laugh about my mishap?

"Not really. It looks clean enough. You'll probably be ok."

"Oh shit, you may as well pin me while I'm here, eh? Go on, gimme what you've got. I'm enjoying the attention."

I woke up the next day in agony. Not only did I hurt all over but I also had the kind of hangover that only comes with extreme Jack and Coke abuse. I got out of bed and walked to the mirror. My hair looked great but my chin was a mess. Oh well. What doesn't kill you can only make you stronger. Or make you look rather ridiculous as you stroll into town to buy the new Buzzcocks album, with nylon thread holding your chin together, a small beard of butterfly stitches and a limp like a man with only one platform boot on. As Jimmy said when he called to see if I was alright (Rich too), it's all in the name of rock and roll, eh? Yeah right...