Hamish Champ: It's only rock and roll, but I like it

Pubs used to be an essential part of the fabric of live music in this country.

As doubtless some of you will know, in the 1970s boozers even spawned a genre of their own: pub rock.

Bands like Ducks Deluxe, Kilburn & The Highroads and Dr Feelgood would pitch up and play unpretentious rock and roll in places like the Sir George Robey (RIP) and the Hope & Anchor in North London in front of hundreds of appreciative fans.

When I formed a band with an old school friend back in 1981, the two places you could almost guarantee getting a gig were pubs and student unions.

As the decade went on colleges saw their entertainment budgets slashed, so a pub and its music-friendly landlord often became the only outlet for many bands to get heard. Even this long-standing enthusiasm has waned in recent years as costs and other entertainments make their mark. While there are pubs dedicated to putting on live music they are an increasingly rare breed.

I performed my last gig more than a decade ago, but resurrected my bass-playing 'career' recently when together with some musician mates of mine we formed a 'supergroup' - oh how that word misses by a mile - to play at a joint 50th birthday party at the weekend.

We tried out a selection of tunes including the Pretty Things' 'Midnight To Six', the Moody Blues' 'Ride My See-Saw' and 'Hush', the Joe South song wonderfully rendered by Deep Purple and later massacred by Kula Shaker.

We sounded competent enough in rehearsals, but we were worried it'd all fall apart on the night, fuelled by a few too many sherbets and our advancing years.

But it didn't. We sounded fine, mostly. And we had a ball. So, it seemed, did the audience. And the fact that we were playing in a pub made it all the more special, for some reason.

It reminded me that such places and rock and roll can still act in unison. Long may it continue.