April 05, 2005

Still Tired

Let's get some things cleared up before we go any further. One, I am still tired. Two, I will henceforth review the gig from Sunday night which is the reason why I'm so bloody tired. And three, the guest posteeeee will have to wait until tomorrow, because the guest posteeeeeeeeee is very tired still as well.

Now that's straight, I can go into detail.


Mmm, gorgeous.

We didn't go to this gig to enjoy the scenery, that's for certain. As I'm sure by now everyone is aware, this gig was postponed due to the lead singer, Mark E Smith (what is the E for?) being ill. He doesn't look like the kind of chap who'd get ill does he? Looks terribly well maintained and healthy if you ask me. But anyway, he managed to drag himself off of his deathbed for long enough to be able to yell some undiscernible things - for I'm pretty sure they weren't words - at the assembled masses. The 'masses', I have to say, were probably the oldest crowd I've ever seen at a gig. Lots of jumpers, nicely ironed corduroy slacks, and even a pair of bright red hoisty jeans - I shit you not. But despite this they were easily the rowdiest (and tallest) crowd I've encountered in many a year. Does age equate to height? It must do because there were some awfully tall fellows standing all about me. I mean, I ain't huge by any stretch of the imagination, but somebody somewhere should put limits on how high people can become. I might propose this. It's an idea, anyway.

So yeah, we got there at about 8pm. As far as I was aware, this was supposed to be an early gig (good, as I desperately require my beauty sleep) but unfortunately 'early' just meant 'more time to keep the punters around watching shit bands and drinking because that's the only vaguely interesting thing to do'. I mean, the headline act didn't arrive until 10.15! That was my beauty sleep right out the window. So we drank. Slowly. A band called 12 Stone Toddlers came and went and were nothing other than a silly name. Then some bloke called John Cooper Clarke came on. I should have done my research. We just thought he was a really boring band with no songs, when it turns out he's actually a poet. There's us sat there chastising him for not playing any songs, when really he's 'The Bard of Manchester'. We wouldn't have been any the wiser if some boring looking chap in an anorak hadn't told us. Poetry is in my blood (see my Dad for confirmation) but this did not crush my grapes, so we sat there and focused on our beers.

Eventually The Fall came on and everyone was very happy. They played lots of very short, very good songs very loud and at no point (unless you knew the words already) was it possible to sing along because nobody can ever understand what the ugly bloke says. And despite not being able to see what was going on due to all the bloody tall people, I enjoyed it very much because luckily, no matter how sticky-out peoples ears are, they'll never get in the way of my ears and I'll always be able to hear what's going on. Smith didn't talk between songs (he probably tried before and worked out quickly that no-one could work out what he was getting at, so hasn't bothered since) which was a bit upsetting, as I think the band/audience connection thing is very important, but there you go. Can't have everything can you? But overall they were very good and we enjoyed ourselves, although it would have been better if we'd have turned up at 10pm. We could have watched a DVD. Oh well.

So here's the 3D thing that Mrs Lagomorph made:

The actual finished piece isn't a JPEG and actually moves around. All the flowers twist and move into position and generally look really fucking cool.

I think it's well impressive.
And it's the start of something big, you mark my words.

Finally, there are still some top tens to be submitted. You know who you are, and this is your final warning. You have until Friday to hand them in before I send you to the headmaster's office for the slipper.


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