Gig #6: The Borderline, London 17 April 2014

It is midnight, and we are loading out after the finest gig the Nightingales have ever played. Dave ‘Big Dave’ Wassell directs operations at the van while Robert ‘The Chief’ Lloyd does so in the belly of the venue itself. Equipment is carried upstairs by the rest of the band and out through the thronging metropolitan crowds jostling together outside the several nightclubs that surround the venue. The young clubbers’ boisterous chatter hushes as the band file through their scantily-clad ranks, and all around one can hear teenage voices whispering such phrases as “It’s the Nightingales. Awesome!”, “Dude, they’re, like, totally sick,” and “Cool. They're my gramps’ faves! Respect!” News of the band’s triumphant gig has already hit the Twittersphere, and these young social networkers are already aware of the momentous events that have taken place here this evening. Phone cameras flash as they add their own personal stories to the collective archive online.

As we travel back to the Midlands to the soundtrack of Big Dave’s ceaseless chatter, the band are quiet, pensive. They sense that this gig has wrought a step-change in their fortunes. Occasionally, their thoughts are interrupted by the voice of Robert ‘The Chief’ Lloyd as he tries out nascent lyrics for as yet unwritten Nightingales songs – “Dave, I need some hot food. Now mate”; “First services, Dave”; or “Dave, are we nearly there yet?” These finely-crafted lines are delivered in a slurred voice, for Lloyd is exhausted after the evening’s challenges and three bottles of High Commissioner. But he cannot help himself when the lyrical muse descends. Robert Lloyd: always working.