Sorry for the mucho quieto. Life’s been pretty hectic and likely to get more so. Finally started the glamorous new job and so far so good.
The eight-hours-of-train-travel-on-the-first-bloody-day notwithstanding.
Still it’s a definite improvement. Lots of busy and nerdy and Linux.
Been to loads of gigs lately and I’ve started trying to review them (see up there where is says ‘reviews’) but it’s making me respect, y’know, PROPER reviewers mostly. Might take them down again. Any opinions gratefully ignored.
more soon. honest
Night out at the revolution to see I Am Kloot. Due to the Free-Before-8 thing, it was a bit of a rush when I arrived at 5-to. The guy in front of me, in a natty hat and red shirt, burbled something to the guy trying to take money off us and he waved us in which seemed odd.When the support band came out and the drummer was in a red shirt and a natty hat, I realised what he’d said was “we’re in the band”. How cool am I?
“scuseus can ijustsqueezethroughthere”
Wax Planet were suprpisingly good. Despite their combined ages coming to about the same as my waist measurement, they managed well developed songs, with 3 part harmonies and actual tunes. On their MySpace page, there’s a description of them as “like the Beach Boys if they’d listened to Magazine” which is spot on. One to watch.
Revolution is not an ideal concert venue. The layout meant that wherever we stood, we were in the way of the people going to the bar and the ones going to the loo. And oh, how they go.
Just as one went past, another bloody twat would “scuseme” and then “sorrymate” then dash off in fear of my terrifying glare. Eventually, Damon dragged me behind a sofa for the safety of all concerned. Then someone beside him “needed” to get out. If you find my will to live, I’d like it back.
Cards on the table – Revolution in Deansgate Locks is not my sort of place. At all. I wouldn’t normally go in unless I was being threatened. I don’t fit, I don’t like it, I can’t hear myself, the clientele are too busy checking their cool, they’re too young and the booze is crap. And since when did lads watching a band start drinking glasses of white wine?
It’s also the sort of gig venue where the regulars see the band as background music. At the sign of a quiet song, the volume of chatter goes UP as it’s a chance to hear your conversation, not down in order to hear the song.
Despite that. the mighty Kloot stroll on and start with a big smile from John Bramwell, whose shaggy hairstyle is making him look like a Tommy-era Roger Daltrey. Starting with a new song which i didn’t catch the name of but which went down well. Announcing that as this was going out on the radio, there was to be no swearing “except for the second line of this next song” which turned out to be “Twist”.
Bramwell is a star, the smallest “colossus” to stride the stage but a captivating performer. Pete the Bass spends the whole gig (every gig) sitting on a chair with his legs crossed and a fag going but somehow still seems to be dancing along. How often in a band is the stoic, sensible one at the back?
3 or four new songs, as well as “To You”, “Life in a Day”, “Storm Warning” …erm…loads I’ll remember later when someone reminds me? The new stuff seems to be more rock than usual but without losing the Kloot-ness.
The minute the last chords rang out and the Kloot waved, we three en masse said “Knott bar?” and headed straight off for a couple of proper pints before bed. Pointedly shoving past everyone.
and not saying sorry.