BOB LOG III ///
WORDS: JAKE JONES ///
PHOTOS: NEIL STEWARD ///

"Have you ever been to see Snow Patrol?"
"Yeh."
"You dick."
"Thanks. Who have you been to see then?"
"Bob Log III"
"Who is he?"
"He's the Bomb."

I didn't have this conversation last night. But perhaps I should have done.

In the sweaty pit that is the 100 Club on London's Oxford Street, Bob Log III, on a night hosted by Not The Same Old Blues Crap, rocked the crowd to their bones. This self-styled one man band came on in a tuxedo, walking through audience playing his real damn low-tuned guitar, from the dressing room, to the stage. One song in, he's shed himself of the tux, and back in his more familiar garb of an all-in-one tight lycra jump suit - this time it's black, with silver sequins down the side, with LOG inscribed on his back.

Oh, and of course, he's wearing his usual pilot's helmet with a telephone receiver welded into the visor.

Bob Log III is something special. His ability to play raw distorted blues, on a heap good guitar, a bass drum, a cymbal, and a drum machine all at the same time is something to behold. He slams down the first couple of tracks, and really gets the audience - a mix of hillbilly wannabes, and the real deal hillbillies - pumping to a ho-down.

The crowd have been waiting patiently for this moment. They're whipped up to a frenzy as Log nails some fast guitar work.. The atmosphere is already good, as Log was ably supported by Hollowbelly (called as such, as he doesn't have a lower intestine apparently).

The crowd love him. The guy has got the chat. Surely he runs anyone else close to being the funniest musician on stage..? In his Tucson, Arizona long drawl accent - he shouts to the audience for a beer. And a scotch on the rocks. And another beer. And another scotch on the rocks… saying 'I don't make the rules man. I just follow them by the letter. And beer and scotch are the ingredients'.

There have been rumours that Bob Log has a monkey's paw instead of a human hand, as he plays that guitar so goddamn quick - and it's a fair assumption to make. He fingers that fretboard like he's a maniac. Which he is.

He races through the set - for over an hour and a half, playing this high-velocity heart thumping blues-country-punk-rock-who-knows-what-the-hell-it-is music. There are american styled whoops and hollers from the audience, there's a lot of leg pumping and docie-dohing, and all the while Bob Log is just grinding that machine - making this glorious noise.

He knows how to play his guitar - he plays the same few chords, finger picking, sliding, strumming, which form the basis of his sound. But what he's VERY good at is the sheer speed of playing - and varying it enough to keep it interesting. Couple that with his raw energy on stage, his wit and banter, and the fact that he's a tall thin dude in a lycra jump suit and a helmet with a telephone receiver in his face, means that it's something you cannot miss.

He finished up with his two classics - Boob Scotch, and Shit On My Knee… I shan't go into the finer points of these songs - but Boob Scotch is exactly that - someone from the audience is asked to dip their boob into a glass of scotch, which he promptly downs….. And Shit On My Knee has a lady on each leg whilst he slams the bass drum and cymbal.

Sounds primitive - but he never fails to get a volunteer.

On he comes for an encore - the crowd go wild - and he whacks out some ridiculously fast guitar blues riff over and over, distorted through his amp, with a thumping bass drum and cymbal - he's playing for his soul - it's clear to see.

This guy is classic. The gig is classic.

If you ever ever get the chance to go to see Bob Log III - then you must…. Go on. Go. He's always touring. All year. Every year.

He's got a monkey's paw for a hand for starters.

AND you'll get way more respect and enjoyment for going to see someone who actually makes music sound like music, rather than going to a Snow Patrol gig which will sap your life through your eyes.

Go On.