zotz: (Default)
[personal profile] zotz
Friday - The Dickies, and then the pub with Glen. After meeting up with Spish and Joyce (and the slightly unexpected Glen) in the Holyrood, we realised that the doors had (theoretically) open almost two hours earlier. Glen decided to come along, and we got there in time to have missed Oi Polloi (Oi Polloi on before the Gin Goblins?). The Gin Goblins (now minus Big John for several years) opened with an underwhelming song called Horrorshow but improved rapidly after that. One song (Safe Area) was decidated to "the polar bear that's done 25 years solitary in Edinburgh Zoo". Energy and attack.

Or so I thought, until the Dickies came on. Now the first thing I noticed was that one of the guitarists is seriously big. As in wide. But then I stopped noticing this because their bassist looked like Mike Croning wearing a fur-fabric teddybear suit. And Graves had pink tennis shoes and an entirely unnecessarily clingy pair of leggings (he introduced the other guitarist as the best guitarist in punk . . . well, OK, the best Hispanic guitarist in punk . . . OK, the best bisexual hispanic guitarist in punk - at which he sreplied that that was good coming from the guy in tights and pink tennis shoes). They sounded great right from the off (except for Graves - we couldn't hear him well through the monitors, and obviously neither could he, but as far as I could tell he was staying as close to in-tune as you need to be in a punk band) - fast, powerful and still even quite tuneful.

I have the set list at home, but yes they did do Eve of Destruction, and finished with the Banana Splits theme (at which - thankfully as I was right down the front - the audience did not go as wild as they did the last time I saw them). Stuart made the usual entirely-unnecessary appearance too, of course.

We then went to a pub on Abbeyhill. Glen had been headed for the place over the road, which seems to have closed, but a lot of the clientele seemed to have moved over too, judging by the gay-oriented flyers and a couple of TVs failing to raise any of the locals' eyebrows.

Saturday. Festival Theatre for Rory Bremner (and Dave Fulton), which was very good. Someone asked about Michael Howard being the next Bond villain, which prompted a worryingly convinving little impression. Blair's hurried adaptation of one of Bush's autocued speeches was very good also. Had a very nice pint of No 3 in the Captain's with my folks afterwards, and then went along to Ascension, partly to flyer for Gigantor on Saturday. I got to exercise my morbid facination with people who live in the overlap between shameless exhibitionism and complete ineptitude . . . of which there were a couple present. Seth likened one to Max Wall, which I'm sure isn't the impression she would have wanted. Slightly later, I may have been heard reacting to her and a friend trying to do the alluring lesbian-innuendo entwined-dancing thing by saying that it was like watching Nicole Kidman getting off with Norah Batty. I was drunk, OK? It was only her posture that was awful. If she'd learn to stand in those shoes, or wear lower heels, things would have been fine. Apart from that . . . another Saturday, another load of bleep. I ended up singing along with Lara to something that turned out not to be VNV but (I think) Pride and fall. "We are in Scunthorpe as plumbers . . . fixing ballcocks with spanners . . ."

Sunday. Stayed in fiddling with stuff. PLayed a bit of Civ. Won a game, although it was only against the AIs, set to "amoeba" level. Washed the dishes listening to the Durutti Column, which was quite pleasant.

Further to the Half Man Half Biscuit gig, Depressed Beyond Tablets mentions Neubauten, and Shit Arm, Bad Tattoo is indeed all about the second Libertines album (and its cover picture).

Young Gods last night, after seeing Ed briefly. Very good. The slightly more wibbly stuff mostly ealier in the set, and the heavier punchier stuff more towards the end. No Longue Route, but they did play September Song, which was just wonderful (and quite unexpected). They look a bit older then they did, but otherwise haven't changed much. An actual electric guitar appeared at one point, which threatened to be a very unYoungGodslike moment, until it became apparent that Franz wasn't going to anything as mundane with it as play any notes.

The support had been Pylot, who were very rock indeed. Solid and fairly well done (very good bassist), but not inspiring.

The Guardian this week is giving away the REM Album Reckoning, which is very good and includes what for my money's their best song, Rockville. You have to get four "Guardian" masthead strips off the front page, out of the five from yesterday to Friday.

Kenny Richey's back on Death Row. Officially this time, as the Supremes have thrown the case back to the local court. The BBC's article (alightly more informative, unsurprisingly) is here.

I was meaning to point out this nice article about John Maynard Keynes. He had a life, apparently.

El Reg is running (or maybe was running, by now) a poll on the worst sorporate anthems of recent years here. So you'll know what you're voting on, there are links to three of the worst offenders, including the infamous KPMG song. Go on, give it a listen - it really is shockingly awful. I assume this is real, but frankly is worth hearing regardless.

The Guardian also ran an article on the reaction of Austria's liberals to Irving's imprisonment.

More locally, El Barrio and KJ's are set to be demolished.

Date: 2005-11-29 03:45 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] rdi.livejournal.com
Aye, but they would say that, wouldn't they?

Profile

zotz: (Default)
zotz

August 2018

S M T W T F S
   1234
56 7 891011
12131415161718
19202122232425
262728293031 

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Jul. 9th, 2025 09:40 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios