Let me introduce you to the state of things

[venta]

While everyone (ok, on my particular friends list, about two people) have been tackling Clovember, in my world it appears to have been Gigvember.

Last Wednesday afternoon I had that sinking feeling where you realise that that bit-of-sniffle is turning into something truly unpleasant. I snuffledand sneezed at my hapless co-workers, debated going home to bed,and thought no, sod it, I am going to Koko. Beechams pills to the rescue.

The queue into Koko moved slowly. Bag inspectionsand body searches for all (twice if you're a bloke[*]) - this was, of course, just after the attacks at the Bataclan theatreand everyone was clearly a bit twitchy. I hadn't made the connection between "going to a gig"and "Paris last Friday", though it wouldn't have occurred to me to stay away even if I had.

Like most venues in London, Koko sells terrible beer, so I bought terrible cider, felt better,and watched Franco Fraize. On paper, he sounds awful - a Jamie Oliver type in a yellow raincoat rapping over raucous guitar. In reality, it was surprisingly enjoyable, like Madchester invented The Streets a decadeand a bit early. A second bloke did proper singing in the choruses,and one of the guitars occasionally did some trumpet,and they had the whole Happy Mondays dancey vibe going on quite nicely.

It is very much music-for-teenage-townie-lads, but worth half a listen on YouTube.

It's been a while since I've seen Sheffield's Reverend & the Makers,and to be honest I'm not sure if they are less exciting or whether people who watch bands while suffering from heavy colds are just disinclined to be excited.

The band dashed madly from one song to another, the Reverend shouting "this train don't stop for no-one" as the drummer started the next intro. Bassline, The State Of Things, Heavyweight Champion of the World... I haven't been wowed by the new album, but the big songs from the earlier albums are as great as they ever were.

Eventually the sneezing caught up with me,and I retired to the back of the venueand slumped in a corner. Fortunately Koko has walls of red banquettes, usually empty while a band is on, so I slumped decorously on one of those. Eyes closed, singing quietly along to Banditsand The Devil's Radio when I wasn't blowing my nose.

As is common, the Reverend played his encore outside on the street, perched on a bin. I decided it was time to go home, bought some more tissues at a corner shop,and hurried off to Euston. I left Chris to enjoy al fresco renditions of Silence is Talkingand A Message to you, Rudi(disappointingly, the same two songs he sang from a bin last time).

In all, a good gig, but I probably shouldn't have gone.

[*] I'm not sure if this was policy, or just a lack of female security staff. Everyone was searched at the door, blokes had already been patted down once by extra staff outside.

And now I am, as I write this, stranded in Hammersmith thanks to a fire alarm at Kings Cross.

Edit Sorry about the spacing issues in this post - apparently LJ has removed the space from before every occurrence of 'and'. Dunno why.

Comments

[bibliogirl.livejournal.com]

I wish I had been able to go to that one, I like R&TM a lot (though, as you, less wowed by the current album), but going to a gig the night before Consequences starts (freeform con) seemed like a spectacularly bad idea since I was almost certain to still be finishing the game. Which was true.