Wednesday, July 30, 2003
Hairline Laughter
Culture is a part of all our lives, for some it is an irritation, for others a mild distraction, for biologists, it’s often something in a petri dish, but for Edinburgh it is a 4 weeks arts and entertainment extravaganza taking over the month of August. As a result of this, TiaPL will be spending the next few weeks attempting to bring you the highlights and the possibly slightly more frequent lowlights of what the Fringe has to offer.
We’ll mainly be going to see comedy, partly because that’s what we really like, but mainly so that we cansteal the jokes of unknown comedians and use them on our site promote new comedy by featuring the material of rising stars. In addition to this we do plan on trying to see some theatre and music things, although anything performed by an amateur group or by school-children will be strictly out of bounds as they are all, without exception, rubbish. It is worth pointing out that the plan to see Kelly Osbourne definitely fits into the comedy side of things.
In the unlikely event that you have anything you want to recommend to us (or in the even more unlikely event of you being a promoter and want to give us free tickets, which would be great, as due to my abject failure to get onto the Perrier panel I’ll be putting my hand into my pocket on a regular basis) then you can e-mail us at talentinapreviouslife@hotmail.com. We’re off out now to try and blag some free tickets for any of the preview shows. And we do mean any. We have no shame.
We’ll mainly be going to see comedy, partly because that’s what we really like, but mainly so that we can
In the unlikely event that you have anything you want to recommend to us (or in the even more unlikely event of you being a promoter and want to give us free tickets, which would be great, as due to my abject failure to get onto the Perrier panel I’ll be putting my hand into my pocket on a regular basis) then you can e-mail us at talentinapreviouslife@hotmail.com. We’re off out now to try and blag some free tickets for any of the preview shows. And we do mean any. We have no shame.
Sunday, July 27, 2003
Brotherly Ambivalence : With TiaPL
Well, Big Brother is finally over for another year and, quite frankly, that’s 9 weeks of my life I’m not going to be getting back in a hurry. Cameron won, but to be quite honest, being the winner of this years BB is about as much of a proud achievement as being the winner of the Least Likely To Be Pissed On If On Fire contest.
Yes, we had Jon Tickle, who was entertaining in the same way as peeling your skin is entertaining - fun at the time, but it sure as hell isn’t something you’d want to spend much longer than a few minutes doing. The only one of this years housemates who I had any time for was Sissy, partly because she was firey, had real character and emotions and passions, but mainly because she was an attractive redhead so was excellent by default. Unfortunately though she was unable to win as the voting public decided to vote her out for reasons best known to their depraved and twisted minds.
So instead, bringing up the rear we were left with Steph, who I used to liken to a gerbil, which I now realise is rather unfair to the rodent, as at least gerbils tend to do stuff in their cage, rather than simply do an intake of breath and express surprise and amazement at every single little thing that happened no matter how mundane and trivial. Scott was next, who managed to be in the house for 9 weeks without doing a single thing of note except for look a little bit like Robbie Williams or Will Young, depending on which angle the camera was looking at him from.
In second place we got Ray who, to be fair to him, did have a personality, unfortunately it was the personality of an overly aggressive macho twat who happily told Nush that he wanted to punch Steph in the face. For some reason this meant that he came in second, rather than the third place which I predicted, which says something very worrying about the British public.
Ray’s other main contribution to the show was to have a wank in the toilet, which wasn’t the only time Channel 4 broadcast a load of toss in the name of Big Brother.
So now, we come to the winner, Cameron, proving that once again Granny Power is not a force to be underestimated, it’s like Robson and Jerome all over again. Here we have someone who is the very definition of the sort of guy mums want their daughters to bring home. He also has nice hair. How could he fail to win? Well, possibly the fact that he was putting on a naïve and innocent act, despite being someone who has travelled the world and has a brother who already works in the media (Well, he ‘presents’ on Scottish TV) so he’s hardly new to this whole thing. He is certainly not someone who would be surprised and overjoyed by the site of apples upon walking into the house, but it was things like that that seemed to endear him to the audience who would immediately coo over him and mutter about him being so sweet. The fools.
So, what have we learnt this year? Well, other than the fact that putting 12 strangers together doesn’t necessarily make for interesting and exciting television, not a lot. Personally I’ve not learnt my lesson, I’ll still be back for more next year, although with any luck Davina won’t be. People will still be clamouring to be on the show, despite the fact that the only guaranteed job that comes out of being a BB contestant is commentating on the next series of Big Brother. And Channel 4 will still continue to make a fortune on the eviction phone-lines, the adverts and the completely pointless and meaningless polls that they do on Little Brother that stupid people actually waste 25p on to express their point of view about whether the housemates should be given lamb or pork chops.
Still, looking on the bright side, at least it filled in a few hours of existence before our inevitable death.
Yes, we had Jon Tickle, who was entertaining in the same way as peeling your skin is entertaining - fun at the time, but it sure as hell isn’t something you’d want to spend much longer than a few minutes doing. The only one of this years housemates who I had any time for was Sissy, partly because she was firey, had real character and emotions and passions, but mainly because she was an attractive redhead so was excellent by default. Unfortunately though she was unable to win as the voting public decided to vote her out for reasons best known to their depraved and twisted minds.
So instead, bringing up the rear we were left with Steph, who I used to liken to a gerbil, which I now realise is rather unfair to the rodent, as at least gerbils tend to do stuff in their cage, rather than simply do an intake of breath and express surprise and amazement at every single little thing that happened no matter how mundane and trivial. Scott was next, who managed to be in the house for 9 weeks without doing a single thing of note except for look a little bit like Robbie Williams or Will Young, depending on which angle the camera was looking at him from.
In second place we got Ray who, to be fair to him, did have a personality, unfortunately it was the personality of an overly aggressive macho twat who happily told Nush that he wanted to punch Steph in the face. For some reason this meant that he came in second, rather than the third place which I predicted, which says something very worrying about the British public.
Ray’s other main contribution to the show was to have a wank in the toilet, which wasn’t the only time Channel 4 broadcast a load of toss in the name of Big Brother.
So now, we come to the winner, Cameron, proving that once again Granny Power is not a force to be underestimated, it’s like Robson and Jerome all over again. Here we have someone who is the very definition of the sort of guy mums want their daughters to bring home. He also has nice hair. How could he fail to win? Well, possibly the fact that he was putting on a naïve and innocent act, despite being someone who has travelled the world and has a brother who already works in the media (Well, he ‘presents’ on Scottish TV) so he’s hardly new to this whole thing. He is certainly not someone who would be surprised and overjoyed by the site of apples upon walking into the house, but it was things like that that seemed to endear him to the audience who would immediately coo over him and mutter about him being so sweet. The fools.
So, what have we learnt this year? Well, other than the fact that putting 12 strangers together doesn’t necessarily make for interesting and exciting television, not a lot. Personally I’ve not learnt my lesson, I’ll still be back for more next year, although with any luck Davina won’t be. People will still be clamouring to be on the show, despite the fact that the only guaranteed job that comes out of being a BB contestant is commentating on the next series of Big Brother. And Channel 4 will still continue to make a fortune on the eviction phone-lines, the adverts and the completely pointless and meaningless polls that they do on Little Brother that stupid people actually waste 25p on to express their point of view about whether the housemates should be given lamb or pork chops.
Still, looking on the bright side, at least it filled in a few hours of existence before our inevitable death.
Friday, July 25, 2003
Upd-8
We've just realised that the Mercury piece would have been 1.7% funnier if we'd referenced Altern-8 instead of The Shamen. We apologise for any discomfort that this may have caused.
Tuesday, July 22, 2003
Mercury Music "Why's"
The shortlist for this years Mercury Music prize was announced today and looking through the list of albums which are apparently the 12 best of the year, you have to sit down and think “What is the point?” Fair enough if you’re a middle-aged family car-driver that needs to know what silver disc is most appropriate for his in-car CD player, but for those of us who actually enjoy music there appears to be little need for this list, other than to show us the most mundane and dull releases of the year so we know exactly what to avoid in our local record shop. Oh, and it provides poor quality internet humour blogs with something to write about.
According to Neil McCormick who, for reasons best known to himself, publicises himself as the music critic for the Daily Telegraph this list contains bands “chosen from the margins", perhaps someone could explain to me exactly which margins multi-million selling artists such as Radiohead or Coldplay come from? Or, indeed, which margin the TV advertisted Athlete and The Thrills are struggling to get their music heard from. Yes, fair enough, as usual there are the token, Jazz, Soul and Eliza Carthy nominations. Although, it must be pointed out that the panel claim that there are not token nominations, but are equal with the other albums to be listed. For this to be true, it implies that there must only be one good album released in each of these genres each year and… Actually, I think they might be onto something with that.
Also joining the tokenistic gesturing is Dizzee Rascal, presumably included to try and convince the public that the panel are not in-fact a bunch of balding, white, middle-class music critics, but are in fact down with their ghetto brothers. An act about as convincing as, well, Ms Dynamite winning the award last year. The rather large world of dance music also gets a single representative with Lemon Jelly, two blokes twatting about in masks doing songs about ducks. Come back The Shamen, all is forgiven. Well, nearly all.
The Darkness get a mention, and, while it could certainly be described as one of the albums of the year, the year in question is 1982, spandex rules the earth and ‘shame’ has yet to be defined as a concept.
The Thrills, who earlier this year, released the single One Horse Town, which was swiftly followed by the album One Trick Pony, are who I believe will win it, not because I think they're any good, but mainly because Morrisey likes them, and they’re Irish. The panel can easily be swayed by things like that. After all, looking at that list, it’s clearly not about the music.
According to Neil McCormick who, for reasons best known to himself, publicises himself as the music critic for the Daily Telegraph this list contains bands “chosen from the margins", perhaps someone could explain to me exactly which margins multi-million selling artists such as Radiohead or Coldplay come from? Or, indeed, which margin the TV advertisted Athlete and The Thrills are struggling to get their music heard from. Yes, fair enough, as usual there are the token, Jazz, Soul and Eliza Carthy nominations. Although, it must be pointed out that the panel claim that there are not token nominations, but are equal with the other albums to be listed. For this to be true, it implies that there must only be one good album released in each of these genres each year and… Actually, I think they might be onto something with that.
Also joining the tokenistic gesturing is Dizzee Rascal, presumably included to try and convince the public that the panel are not in-fact a bunch of balding, white, middle-class music critics, but are in fact down with their ghetto brothers. An act about as convincing as, well, Ms Dynamite winning the award last year. The rather large world of dance music also gets a single representative with Lemon Jelly, two blokes twatting about in masks doing songs about ducks. Come back The Shamen, all is forgiven. Well, nearly all.
The Darkness get a mention, and, while it could certainly be described as one of the albums of the year, the year in question is 1982, spandex rules the earth and ‘shame’ has yet to be defined as a concept.
The Thrills, who earlier this year, released the single One Horse Town, which was swiftly followed by the album One Trick Pony, are who I believe will win it, not because I think they're any good, but mainly because Morrisey likes them, and they’re Irish. The panel can easily be swayed by things like that. After all, looking at that list, it’s clearly not about the music.
Monday, July 21, 2003
Blair Must Go
I have nothing funny to say about this, OK, nothing new there, but it doesn’t really matter as the only joke is the fact that we have a Prime Minister who is not only responsible for the deaths of many innocent Iraqis, but has now indirectly caused the death of a British citizen thanks to his obsession with image and spin. His position is no longer tenable and he should resign immediately and try and retain what little self-respect he has left. This is not some minor bit of sleaze that will blow over in a few days, this is a serious scandal and cannot be dealt with by the usual techniques of distraction and apologies. Goodbye Tony. No really, fuck off.
Tuesday, July 15, 2003
I Found My Soldier Girl, It's So Out Today.
Well, yesterday actually,but I forgot to mention it. The new Polyphonic Spree single Soldier Girl is availiable in all good record shops now (and a few rubbish ones too. And Kazaa), so you should rush out and buy it immediately if you know what's good for you. I guarantee it will make your head spin around. (NOTE: Guarantee not legally binding in any way, shape or form, if head-spinning does occur please seek medical assistance immediately)
Monday, July 14, 2003
criTique
Well, T in the Park is now over and done with, reviews of the bands appear below this, but I thought I’d give a few general observations about the events before we get onto that. First of all, I am now sporting a permanently embarrassed look upon my face thanks to the sun being rather hot throughout the weekend and not using any suntan cream. I am trying to convince myself that it is a healthy glow, and not something that people are going to be pointing at and laughing at me in the street for.
The weather though, brings me to the following piece of advice for people. Gentleman, no matter how hot it is, keep your t-shirts on. The public have no desire to see your beer-bellies hanging out over your shorts. T-shirts where invented for a reason. Use them. And, because at TiaPL we believe in equality, we should point out to the ladies that sunburnt shoulders with white strap marks is seriously not a good look.
People who feel the desire to throw half-full pints of lager over the crowd, you are idiots. No-one, with the possible exception of Triple 8’s girlfriends, wants a sticky substance in their hair. You are not being funny or crazy, you are being a twat. If you want to show the world you’re a twat, then do what every other idiot does and get a ‘zany’ hat. It’s less hassle for us and gives off the same message.
Drunk people, you’re not as funny as you think you are. Stoned people, you’re not as interesting as you think you are.
Oh, and Bongo players can fuck right off.
Thank you.
The weather though, brings me to the following piece of advice for people. Gentleman, no matter how hot it is, keep your t-shirts on. The public have no desire to see your beer-bellies hanging out over your shorts. T-shirts where invented for a reason. Use them. And, because at TiaPL we believe in equality, we should point out to the ladies that sunburnt shoulders with white strap marks is seriously not a good look.
People who feel the desire to throw half-full pints of lager over the crowd, you are idiots. No-one, with the possible exception of Triple 8’s girlfriends, wants a sticky substance in their hair. You are not being funny or crazy, you are being a twat. If you want to show the world you’re a twat, then do what every other idiot does and get a ‘zany’ hat. It’s less hassle for us and gives off the same message.
Drunk people, you’re not as funny as you think you are. Stoned people, you’re not as interesting as you think you are.
Oh, and Bongo players can fuck right off.
Thank you.
Kinross No More
- The Futureheads // What better way to start a lovely sunny festival day than by immediately going into a dark and grotty sparsely attended tent to watch a post punk band play? Well, there are probably at least half a dozen, but no matter, as the Futureheads were fab, if a little repetitive, and I managed to miss the start of their set, ah well.
They didn’t play Cabaret though. Bastards! - Skin // As there was no-one better on, I sat on the grass and watched Skin play. Two songs into her set I realised that she was as dull as attempting to teach my jacket to do tricks, so I went to get myself a burger, which proved to be marginally more appetising than her music. Highlight (and I use the term loosely) was a cover of Getting Away With It. Most interesting part was the realisation that she now has hair, thus losing her gimmick.
She didn’t play Lately either. Bastard! - Snow Patrol // Well you couldn’t exactly call them a bad band, but there position in the hierarchy of music was very much in evidence today, they’ll be playing the mid-afternoon second stage spot until the day they die/give up music, whichever comes first. The very definition of ‘alright’, they whiled away some time though until something better came on, and for that they should be applauded.
They didn’t play One Hundred Things You Should Have Done in Bed though. Bastards! - The Proclaimers // The first Yay! moment of the weekend came when they played Sunshine on Leith, followed by Letter From America which was then followed by the mightiest of all mighty tracks, I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles), the crowd unsurprisingly went wild, and then promptly buggered off afterwards as they made the schoolboy error of insisting on carrying on their set after playing these tracks. Those that left missed out on the opportunity to hear two songs which weren’t as good as I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles). Ah Well.
- The Cardigans // Well they played My Favourite Game, which was the only reason why anybody was watching them, as other than that song, they were absolutely pish. There should be a special slot on festival stages for bands that only have one song that anybody with any ears wants to hear so that for one hour, they can just come on, play that song, and then bugger off and let the next one-hit wonder do their bit. It’d be fantastic. And it’s my idea, so if you use it, I demand to get paid for it.
At least the Cardigans did make a small concession to stagecraft by having a chandelier on stage, and a bit of carpet behind them, which, one third into the set, dropped down to reveal another bit of carpet behind it. The crowd went non-committal. Two thirds into the set, the second piece of carpet dropped down to reveal nothing behind it. If the crowd where non-committal before, after that piece of ‘excitement’, they truly went static.
They didn’t play Lovefool though, which is probably a good thing as it would have prolonged the agony. - Idlewild // A Scottish band, so unsurprisingly they got a good reception, possibly better than they actually deserve given that they lack a certain warmth on stage and never really connect with the audience. The hits are all present and correct, and people sing along at the appropriate points, but it’s all unmemorable, and I nearly forgot to mention them in this review.
They didn’t play Everyone Says That You’re So Fragile though. Bastards! - Super Furry Animals // We shall ignore the drum solo that appeared half way through, carried out by two blokes dressed as Yeti’s, and say instead, that the Furries were amazing. The new stuff sounds pretty good, the old stuff sounds as excellent as ever, and the Man Don’t Give a Fuck is still one of the greatest set-closers ever. I’d like to say a bit more about them, but by this point I was getting a bit over-excitable at the thought of the next band on so was somewhat distracted.
They didn’t play She’s Got Spies though. Bastards! - The Polyphonic Spree // The greatest band in the world ever, yes, even greater than Girls Aloud, even though such a thing might be hard to believe. The only band I went down the front for, the only band who’s every second was a moment to savour, the only band to be wearing white smocks and celebrate the sun every second song. I love these guys.
From the moment Tim walked on dressed in his white smock, which was quickly removed to reveal a tartan smock underneath, we all went bananas and remained so throughout the entire gig. It is a cliché to say this now, but like most cliché’s it has a lot of truth in it, there is so much love at a Spree gig it is unbelievable, there is hugging, there is joy, there is bonding, it is the nearest thing an atheist like myself can get to a religious experience. If you have yet to experience the happy, crazy optimistic joy that this massive group of people can bring, then you need to do so at the earliest possible opportunity. By the album by all means, but live is where it all makes sense.
They didn’t play Have a Day/Celebratory though. Bastards! - REM // This could have been perfect, it could have been amazing. All they had to do was do a proper greatest hits set, the crowd would have gone home happy and overjoyed, people would be saying good things about REM and everyone would have had a great experience, but no. Not REM, they have to be contrary buggers, and give us some OK-ish newer material for every solid gold classic they give us, yes we get The One I Love, Losing My Religion, Finest Worksong, Man on the Moon and End of The World as We Know it, but we have to put up with a lot of dullness in-between. It was good, but not good enough. But they did do Daysleeper, which I think is a lovely song, so I suppose we should be greatful for that.
They didn’t do Stand or At My Most Beautiful though. Bastards!
This Is How It Fields
- The Darkness // A fantastic way to start another sunny day at T in the Park. The Darkness, quite simply, rock, and no amount of over-analysis can detract from the simple pleasures of watching a group of grown men acting like teenagers playing air-guitar, and any man that can get away with wearing a leopard-skin catsuit deserves some sort of respect, even if it is only the grudging kind. In keeping with the Queen referencing, Justin even indulged in a bit of call and response with the crowd, although I think it’s safe to say that Freddie Mercury never got the crowd to sing “Motherfucker” back at them but, on the other hand, he has snorted cocaine from the head of a dwarf, so I think is place in the pantheon of rock greats is safe.
They didn’t play their cover of Street Spirit though. Bastards! - Echo and the Bunnymen // Despite looking identical to how he did in the eighties, Ian McCulloch still manages to look effortlessly cool. They played a perfect set for lazing on a sunny afternoon and closed with the magnificence of Nothing Lasts Forever, Killing Moon, and The Cutter. Excellent.
They didn’t do any of Ian McCulloch’s solo stuff though. Bastards! - The Sugababes // The girls made a big mistake initially by starting the set with them singing offstage, presumably the intention was to make a big entrance, but merely served to make it look like they were singing to a backing tape which had started too early. They also made the mistake later of introducing the band. We don’t care who’s playing guitar, it doesn’t interest us in any way shape or form.
Other than that though, they were fantastic, Although they did use up their really great songs far too early by doing Overload followed by Run For Cover, but then, the majority of the crowd didn’t really care about the Sugababes when they were really good, as opposed to just being good. They went wild for Freak Like Me and Round, Round when they were played, and fully appreciated the girls pelvic thrusts round the mic stand in the latter. Lovely, irrepressibly happy Heidi smiled and enjoyed herself all the way through the set, blissfully ignorant of the fact that the other two clearly hate her, which is clearly why she’s the most loved member of the group and the one that had some sweaty underpants thrown at her. The lucky girl.
They didn’t play New Year though. Bastards! - Inspiral Carpets // The scallies were out in force for Madchesters, if not finest, then certainly most consistent band. Pure greatest hits nostalgia for everyone there, even if the ‘new’ single sounds exactly like Step Into Christmas, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Clint Boon is still a god, but his solo stuff was so much better than anything the Inspirals did. Apart from This is How it Feels and Saturn 5. Obviously.
They didn’t do their cover of Paranoid though. Bastards! - Mull Historical Society // The second best band of the weekend. If you have yet to experience the wonders of MHS then go get Loss straight away as it’s genius, don’t rush out and buy the second album as it’s nowhere near as good, but never mind. The fact that they’re not a rock band didn’t stop Colin throwing a number of rock poses and jumping around the stage like a man on drugs. But given that he’s from a small island he probably wasn’t on drugs, but was simply over-awed by the concept of electricity and metal boxes on wheels which move really fast.
They didn’t do Barcode Bypass though. Bastards! - Feeder // Um yeah, well Feeder were alright.They did Buck Rodgers, everyone cheered, they dedicated a song to Jon Lee, (the dead drummer, rather than the dead in the water Ex-Club 7 member) and people applauded, they did what they were expected to, and did it in a workmanlike manner, I’m sure they’ll do it all over again at a festival near you soon.
They didn’t do anything vaguely exciting though. Bastards! - OK GO // They were excellent for 3 reasons. Firstly for giving respect to The Darkness, secondly for Get Over It, which has the greatest “Hey”s in pop history ever (NOTE: Writer has not fully researched Exclamations and Their use in Pop Music so this claim may not be fully accurate), and thirdly because for their last song, they mimed, did a synchronised dance routine and made more of a lasting impression than most of the bands over the weekend.
They didn’t do anything nearly as good as Get Over It though. Bastards! - The Charlatans // They’re good if you like that kinda thing, but they did make the fatal mistake of uttering the words that no-one ever wants to hear at a festival – “We’re gonna try a new song now”, almost as dreaded a phrase as “We’re gonna introduce the band now”, “Here’s an old B-Side”, and “And now, our surprise special guests, the Stereophonics”.
They didn’t play Can’t Get Out Of Bed though. Bastards! - Coldplay // While waiting for Coldplay to come on, I briefly entered my own private hell, when the DJ played Oasis, Little By Little to the crowd. While you or I, as decent right thinking people, would have sworn inwardly and started muttering the closing refrain from Panic by the Smiths to ourselves, the crowd started cheering and singing along. Fools that they were, this only encouraged him, as he then proceeded to play Stereophonics and Reef. Where’s the humanity!
Anyway, Coldplay came on, Chris played his usual humble, self-effacing rock star role, despite the fact he’s a multi-millionaire and is shagging Gwyneth Paltrow. No-one was particularly convinced. We got all the usual slightly dull anthems which middle-aged men think are some of the most beautiful things ever written and the punishment of a cover of an Oasis song. They weren’t particularly bad, but they’re not a headlining act, and someone really needs to let them know that turning all the lights yellow during a song called Yellow does not count as entertaining and imaginative stagecraft.
They didn’t play Shiver though. Bastards!
Friday, July 11, 2003
The Green Fields of Foreverland
This weekend I will have an excuse to not bother updating TiaPL as I’ll be off enjoying the sights, sounds and schemies at T in the Park. I will not be camping as I have grown fond of the concept of not having everything I own stolen, but will instead be getting a bus back to the safety of Edinburgh each night and will eye everyone with short gelled hair or a Burberry baseball cap with suspicion.
While at the festival I hope to catch The Polyphonic Spree, REM, The Futureheads, the Sugababes and the Inspiral Carpets, fortunately I no longer need to put effort into avoiding Ashely Hamilton as he has pulled out. Which is one in the eye for the organisers who patronisingly believe that due to the ‘unique’ atmosphere at Scottish gigs they can put on more unusual and unexpected acts. Or at least, that’s what they say publicly, What they mean privately is “the audience will be so pissed, we can put on any old rubbish and they’ll still cheer it madly”, which is, annoyingly, true, and can be the only reason The Datsuns are so high up on the bill.
While at the festival I hope to catch The Polyphonic Spree, REM, The Futureheads, the Sugababes and the Inspiral Carpets, fortunately I no longer need to put effort into avoiding Ashely Hamilton as he has pulled out. Which is one in the eye for the organisers who patronisingly believe that due to the ‘unique’ atmosphere at Scottish gigs they can put on more unusual and unexpected acts. Or at least, that’s what they say publicly, What they mean privately is “the audience will be so pissed, we can put on any old rubbish and they’ll still cheer it madly”, which is, annoyingly, true, and can be the only reason The Datsuns are so high up on the bill.
Wednesday, July 09, 2003
Kick Out The Jams, Motherfucker.
Right Dad, give Gooseberry the boot.
