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Meet: Midland Hotel steps, Peter Street.
Wine and song; it goes together. Sometimes there’s a woman in between, but there might just as well be a man. Like Muddy Waters who once famously smashed a whisky bottle in two and used the neck to slide down his guitar to make a sound like that of a glass of bourbon sizzling on a hot plate.
In Manchester it results in some equally strange music-and-drink stories: how the Briton’s Protection wouldn’t serve Deborah Curtis, wife of Ian, because she was a woman. (Don’t worry. That was 30 years ago); how the Hacienda made little profit from beer while the dealers cleaned up selling illicit drugs alongside.
But there are some more tasteful tales, and at the end of the night we may well settle down at the Knott Bar, which has Manchester’s best juke-box.