serious

Eighties Matchbox

Thanks to you all for the comments on the last one. Much appreciated.

Well, in an attempt (broadly successful) to cheer me up a bit, gingiber and anonymous_seth dragged me through to Glasgow last night to see Eighties Matchbox B-line Disaster. Executive summary : just as good as last time.

After dropping in to feed some friends' very strange cats, we got to Glasgow without any trouble. I hopped out early to get to the venue while a parking space was found, as I didn't have a ticket and the venue reckoned it would sell out. No problem in this case, although they may very well have been right. It got very crowded in there. It was at G2, which is the other bit of the Garage on Sauchiehall Street. Handily, the entrance isn't the main one, but a door up an unmarked side alley. After only a few minutes somebody pointed this out to me. I then had a ticket, and L&S arrived. Groovy.

Inside it was a long thin place with dozens of vodka bottles behind the bar. Literally dozens, but all of only two different varieties. A lot of people had come out in some sort of halloween costume - actually, this was true of Glasgow generally, from what we saw of it. And clearly the government is in no real trouble, because I've never seen so many miniskirts. We hung around for a bit and then the first band came on. Actually, we were later to find that they were the second and we'd missed the first, but there you go. Winnebago Deal are a two-piece, with guitar/vocal and drums. Like the White Stripes, if you like, except rather more like the White Stripes would be like if the centre of their musical universe was the first Nirvana album. I was very tempted to refer to them as the heavy metal white stripes, as it's a snappier description, but in the interests of accuracy, I won't. Clearly, though, the guitarist had found the button marked "monolithic" and taped it down.

In other words, they sounded rough. Big, loud, forceful, and rough. Poke, punch and sheer volume aplenty. No great lack of bass, either. The first song took off like its bollocks were on fire and hammered on in a blizzard of percussion, distortion, screaming and feedback and suddenly Oh my fucking god it's a theremin solo. Some random bloke appeared from nowhere and made wierd gestures before his miniature electronic altar, evoking the sound of a bad fifties SF film after being shredded and reassembled randomly by a crazed jigsaw fan. My howls of laughter were buried under an avalanche of sonic sludge and intricate aeronoodling.

Sadly, they couldn't live up to that - a shame, as I'd been looking forward to the washboard accompaniment on track six - and without the theremin the other songs all sounded a bit similar. Energetic stuff, though.

We were expecting Vatican DC next, but I guess they must have been on before we arrived, as the next appearance - visitation, indeed - was the mighty Eighties Matchbox B-line etc themselves. And very good they were too. As before, it was a notable brief blast through a quite reasonable number of songs played fairly fast, followed by no encore. They'd played pretty much up to the venue's limit, though, so I didn't have a problem with this. The singer kept jumping into the audience, and finished one song standing on the bar. Hot loud, and also very energetic. A fine way to spend the evening. I must get their new record.


Today I am mostly feeling crestfallen. This may last a while, but isn't expected to be permanent. My boss seems to have an unexpectedly abrupt recovery from pneumonia and is actually in evidence. I don't know whether this is wise. The engineer we're due a visit from not only isn't here but couldn't give me a date when i called him, and hasn't called back as he said he would. My next question is about what sort of response time we've been guaranteed in our support contract. So far it's been about two weeks, which is Not Bloody Good Enough under almost any customer service model.
  • Current Mood: listless
  • Current Music: Sarah McLachlan - Possession
Oh my fucking god it's a theremin solo! Should be made into a T-shirt fairly sharpish I reckon. ;)
Hmmm. Now that you mention it . . .


Shades of Drumstop very bad, actually.
Can you reassure me?

I'm concerned that you can remember the punchlines to my favourite jokes because I repeated them on a regular basis. Was this true?

I'd wear that :-)

Have you seen/heard Bill Bailey pastiching Portishead re recording the Aussie national Anthem using a theremin? It is to die for..
clearly the government is in no real trouble, because I've never seen so many miniskirts

Say what?

And you're welcome to come to our housewarming if you want something to do next weekend - go read your demon.co.uk email!
Say what?

General election outcomes bear a relation to fashionable skirt length. Long skirts mean the government will probably lose, while short skirts mean they will probably win. It's thought to relate to people's perceptions of the economy - a strong economy makes people feel secure and more comfortable with more outgoing behaviour. A weak economy, however, tends to result on people being more careful. Fashionable skirt lengths are merely a particularly visible aspect of this. Men's fashion, generally being very boring, doesn't have an obvious equivalent

And you're welcome to come to our housewarming if you want something to do next weekend

I'll have a look at that mail when I get home, yes. Thanks.
If you fancy a trip down to Cambridge at any stage, you can always come and crash with me. Offer's always open assuming I'm in Cambridge.
Cheers. Obviously it also applies to any of you that fancy visiting Edinburgh. Indeed, you should all be encouraged to do so, as long as you don't all come on the same weekend. I haven't got that big a flat.
I'll be in the pub briefly tonight, 9-10.30 ish.
Want to come along?
*grin* Few people have the courage to include a Theramin solo and most leave it quite low in the mix.

Btw, I noticed Queen Adreena were supporting the London show -- don't suppose they wree doing your date too? [Noticed when the fucking band emailed their fan club five bloody days before the gig. What is the fucking point, they may as well have not told me. It's not time to organise london train tickets at any reasonable price.]