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The Jewish Chronicle

Eric Clapton, Jeff Beck and a date from hell

Take the girl to the gig and earn cash at the same time. What could go wrong? Everything

March 18, 2010 12:31

By

Paul Lester,

Paul Lester

3 min read

Just in case any of the JC's more impressionable female readers are labouring under the illusion that the writer of this column is in some ways a decent catch with a vaguely exciting career and attendant glamorous lifestyle, please allow me to tell you this cautionary tale. It is the story of a date from hell that I went on the other week and it should singlehandedly put the kibosh on any chances I might have had with the opposite sex for the foreseeable future.

It started harmlessly, even promisingly, enough, with a commission from the Sunday Express. Did I, the music editor wondered, want to review Eric Clapton and Jeff Beck (above) live at the O2 Arena on Saturday night? Well, of course I did.

Not that I'm a fan of those two veterans of '60s rock guitar, nor did I fancy shlepping all the way from north-west to south-east London and, in the process, getting stuck in traffic during the busy shopping exodus. But I am a fan of work, because work means kudos - the opportunity to see your name in, if not lights, then at least a respectable-sized font - and money.

Besides, as a freelance journalist, you never say no to a commission, even if it does involve watching a pair of clapped-out musos bending the strings on their instruments hundreds of yards away on a stage, in a venue miles from home. And even if the paper in question requires you to write the copy for the same night as the gig.