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There’s no denying that ragtime blues and storytelling country aren’t standard pub music, but my playing of Blind Boy Fuller, Guy Clark, and Johnny Cash have certainly gone down better than expected on the open mic scene in Taunton. Best of all my stage confidence, microphone banter and singing ability are definitely on the up.

My quest to bring country music to the masses extends further than Taunton though. September saw Guy Clark playing at the Bloomsbury theater in London. with a warm up act from Jace Everett In their own words “proving that good things still come from Texas”. Gemma quite clearly fancied the pants of Jace, and although me and Tron both vocally disapproved of the rather stingy size of the £3.60 bottles of beer there was still a definitive air of appreciation surrounding Guy Clark’s craftsmanship. Let’s be fair; the man is a living legend. Although it was slightly sad to see that he’s starting to get so old that his pickin’ hand is starting to fail him.

October saw another incredible concert, this time proving to me and Ange that very good things come out of Barnsley, with Kate Rusby singing some good ol’ fashion English and Irish folk music. “She were ruddy marvelous she were”.

All of this lured me into a false sense of security. I believed that perhaps the west country was ready for country music, and it turned out I was very wrong. Me and Ange walked into a pub in Williton a few weeks ago to be greated with 2pac “the last one to go” blaring out of the Jukebox. I know it was 2pac because I Googled the only lyrics I could hear ’westside for life motherfucker uh, westside for life, westside for life motherfucker uh, westside for life’.

There was nobody in the back of the pub so we lined up some Johnny Cash and Tim McGraw on the Jukebox and racked up a game of pool. A few lines into “A Boy Named Sue” we realised that the local youths were just having a fag around the corner where they had been happily listening to their gangster rap. They really didn’t seem to appreciate our hijacking of the jukebox… we left the pub quickly before anybody could cut off a piece of my ear