Hellloooooooooooooo Uborka! It’s lovely to be here on this sunny afternoon with such a beautiful looking crowd. Rather like a blogmeet, this is a gathering of seedy-looking types who know each other a bit but might have mixed you up with someone else, and have started drinking a little too early. Please admire my Fairy Godmother costume; I’ve come as Stevie Nicks: floaty, bleaty, getting on a bit. In my teens, my dad was very tickled by an NME writer describing her voice as like a moribund sheep. And I learned a new word.

Sevitz, looking as degenerate as ever, does a good impersonation of an aging, never-quite-made-it drummer. I’ve heard that drums are easy, and require no proof-reading skillz, so this job should suit him nicely. Please be careful with that water, and don’t overdo it.

A big welcome-back to Mike, who has been on the Uborka Tour of South East Asia, drinking cocktails in every bar and supporting his psydkick K through various gropey encounters. Several large Singapore Slings for both of you, and you’re on backing vocals.

Lisa has come as That bloke out of Led Zep (Lyle : I’m pretty sure they mean Robert Plant doing Immigrant Song), and admits she has no idea who she means. A quick Google tells us that Valhalla no longer has any real association with Vikings, but rather is to do with a restaurant in New York and a ride at Blackpool Pleasure Beach, so she doesn’t seem to know much about that either. However, she has an excellent flapjack recipe, and I’ve got these in the oven right now. I shall leave her teetering over her cocktail, having sent the bot out for blood oranges; and allocate her to keyboards.

Star of this week’s interview Gordon has been unable to visit today; we suspect he wrote his sicknote on the beach. He’s got his knees out as usual; at least in shorts today, not a skirt. He claims to be nearly 40, but surely is only on the edge of seventeen. Obviously we can’t give him an instrument if he’s only virtually virtually here.

There could be no better frontman for this band than Lyle, preferably in his pink bunny costume and funny little round glasses in lieu of piercings, dreads, booze habit or drug intake. The NiN track he donated to the Uborka Mix CD is my favourite of the lot, I usually play it twice.

Graybo is being obscure; nothing new about that. We’ll put him on the flügelhorn. Lyle can fix the ümlaüt if he feels like it. (Lyle : ‘Tis done, and in a very Mötörhead way) According to Wikipedia, Captain Beefheart liked to work with a revolving ensemble of musicians, so at this point everyone needs to turn around a few times, making Dr Pockless’ cocktail this week into a milkshake. There can be no better instrument for the Doctor than the badgermin.

I notice that this band has no guitars; it’s too late to fix that, as Asta is toting Janis’ autoharp. I’ll leave a pile of them by the door for latecomers. Sorry cocktails are early, I haven’t got a lot of time today. The life of this Rock Goddess is an eternal round of school runs and baking; whatchagonnado?

Last on stage is Pete himself, the Rock God of the family, who has come as, well, as Pete. I’m going to bat my Stevie Nicks lashes at him and ask in my sheepiest voice (using a number of unnecessary syllables) if he would like to come camping and drink Quirky Bird with me later? We’re all packed and ready to go. Sorry about the weather, everyone.

Now, let’s kick off with a storming chorus of Wake Me Up Before You Go Go….