Donkey On A Treadmill

The Brickmakers   3.03.2012

It may be a decent trek to the Brickies but it takes approximately five steps into the venue tonight before you sense that this is no ordinary gig night.  From the drop-down screen displaying video footage of the stage to the scantily clad rock chicks patrolling a table festooned with merchandise, there is definitely something significant a-brewing.  The merch in question belongs to The Burning Crows and tonight is the launch of their new EP ‘Never Had It So Good’.  Recorded at the famous Rockfield Studios inWales and produced by Nick Brine (The Darkness / Oasis) the hard-rocking lads are making all the right noises in order to get noticed and, with a band influenced by “girls, booze and girls with booze”, we could be in for a filthy evening.

Da da da da-da.  While the epic theme song from Terminator 2 pounds out over the PA system the colossus that is the support band’s drummer, Big Mike, emerges, guyliner and all, from the back of the stage.  A clonk of a cowbell and local legends The Pocket Godzillas blast into their set with all the exuberance of a band just starting out.  Guitarist “Gav-zilla” embodies this spirit, his frenetic style, dyed red hair and rabid facial expressions providing great entertainment - you suspect he would even lift boxes in a jerky, twisty kind of way.  “Pure Rock Fire” is a typical example of the band’s energetic rock sound, coaxing much musical lunging from those at the front as Gav and Mike enjoy a sustained gurn-off.  Unfortunately singer, “Bub-zilla”, suffers a set-back mid-way through “24 Hours” as his guitar dies and has to be relinquished, the pregnant pause that ensues forcing the guys to cut their impressive set short.

Rumours are rife that the Crows have been locked away prior to the gig to prevent Messrs Daniels and Beam tempting them with their tantalizing tipples.  However, judging by the masses gathered at the bar, is seems the band’s fans or “Crowlings” are just as eager to test the biceps of those pulling the pints.  As anticipation grows, the lights cut out, thundery sound effects roll around the room and the immaculately dressed quartet scuttle onstage to a frenzied reception from the crowd.  Go!!  Finally let off the leash the band explodes into life, firing off tunes like ‘Starting All Over Again’ and ‘Slow Up, Get Down’ like their betty swollocks depend on it.  “The Queen” in particular sees guitarist Lance and bassist Will chucking their well-maintained manes around enough to show Willow Smith up to be the rank amateur she is.  In Whippz the band have an awesome frontman, throwing in fret-melting solos while casually conducting the audience with a serpentine flick of his wrist.  The band are tighter than Peter Andre’s arse cheeks and new song “So Wrong” similarly hits the mark, presenting the groove and competence of a band that has been gigging for many more years than they actually have – a worthy reward for their relentless touring schedule.  As Whippz splits the room in two and elicits competing chants of ‘Going Down’ from each side it’s clear the band are enjoying themselves.  Behind the drums Chris “int he gooorgeous” Chapman manically grins continuously all evening, maintaining the euphoric focus of a successfully satisfied sex doll, stopping only occasionally to stand and survey the packed venue.  With the audience lapping up the band’s huge rock assault the guys are doing more than enough to prove their EP is worth a purchase, even finding time to make sure those gathered are suitably lubricated, before joining in a communal shot and ripping into ‘Best Damn Everything’.  An encore is demanded and the Crows duly oblige with a strobe-backed rendition of ‘Time’ before ending with the sing-a-long belter that is ‘You, Me, Tonight’.  During the finalé Whippz disappears into the audience before emerging, triumphantly brandishing yet another dark liquor, the set ending as raucously as it began.

The boys take a bow and, though the music may have stopped, you sense there are many more Jäger bombs to be necked before people head home, towel themselves off, and await the inevitable hangover the next day.  On this evidence The Burning Crows are a band that deserves attention, with the deadly combination of a dedicated fan base and chops to support the hype.  Certainly the world would be a better place if there were more bands like this; no pretence, no bullshit, just the solid determination to rock more hard than the next band.  Norwich has never had it so good.

The Waterfront  12/02/2012

It’s been a while since Norwich has been Sonic Boom-ed but with their eponymous fourth album set to be released later this year the Manchester based quintet has rocked up in our fair city to remind us of what we’ve been missing.  The gig marks the end of an arduous week-long tour, the crux of which saw them hyped as HMVs ‘The Next Big Thing’ at The Barfly in Camden.  The self confessed “genre terrorists” manage to mix more styles than George Bush has mixed metaphors and there is buzz surrounding the band that 2012 could be the year of the Boom.  So let’s button up our seat-belts and party like a fish out of water…

Throughout the seven date tour support has come in the form of Hildamay, an alternative punk band from Kent.  There’s plenty of sleeveless t-shirts on display as the band blast through ‘Parachutes’ a driving tune that is hampered by muddy sound.  During their set singer Tim Lawrence looks terrified, giving a meek thumbs-up as he announces the band are going to play a couple of new tracks.  The first of these is dedicated to SB6 frontman Barney Boom and shows off their bassist’s impressive wrist action…winky face.  Soon Barney is onstage himself joining the band for ‘This War is Over’ but unfortunately the band’s power again suffers at the hands of some wobbly sound.

Following a lengthy change over, personal concerns over whether SB6 will all fit onstage are soon allayed; the band trot on to a building drumbeat and the place goes Britney Spears nuts.  With mosh pits, pogoing and skanking galore it’s clear that those who have battled the frosty weather aren’t here for a quiet end to their weekend, the brilliantly infectious ‘The Road to Hell is Paved With Good Inventions’ in particular drawing a boisterous reaction from those clamouring to get closer to the action.  Singer Laila K, in between sipping a Strongbow can, er, through a straw (?!), coerces people to get forward and the band blast into ‘For the Kids of The Multiculture’.  The unique mix of ska, punk, dub, grime and metal ensures that SB6 draw a varied crowd but there is a pervading sense of community between the band and the fans who, in the words of Barney Boom are “getting on together like chips and samosas”.

The Mancunians expertly combine their early material with their newer output even finding time to treat the audience to ‘The Dangers of Rock and Roll’, originally a b-side that, through the power of Facebook, has become one of the band’s most requested songs.  The wave of activity has certainly warmed up the Waterfont but, undeterred, suddenly some big boys manage to get hoisted above the crowd, briefly flailing about before gravity works its magic.  Crunch. “Barney’s drunk”, the announcement of the likeable frontman’s inebriated state welcomes a change of pace and ‘Sunny Side of The Street’ sees the appearance of an acoustic guitar.  The bitter-sweet ode to their home town should surely stem the tidal wave of activity on the dance floor.  No!  Apparently this is the perfect opportunity for a bout of sweaty stage diving, it seems Mr Barnes isn’t the only one on the Red Stripe tonight…and on the Sabbath!  Hildamay are summoned to the stage and it soon becomes apparent as to why the speakers on each flank of the stage have been firmly strapped down, KRS-One’s ‘Sound of da Police’ sounds out to introduce SB6’s own ‘Piggy in the Middle’ and the Waterfronts structural integrity is truly tested.  Barney goes in for a stage dive of his own while Laila, despite negotiating a few wayward feet, finally succumbs to an accidental smack in the face.  The crowd and band ravenously feed off each others energy and bassist-guitarist James T Boom in particular is loving it, a massive smile constantly poking through his immaculately kept beard.  Chants of “S B Six!” entice the obligatory encore, the final hurrah culminating in a room-long wall of death.

And. Breathe. The audience file out, many removing other people’s moist neck hair from their throats, thankfully a simmering vigour remains that should see them home warm at least.  The frenzied set had everything, great beats, tight musicianship and, in Laila and Barney, two very accomplished front peeps that compliment each other perfectly.  It all suggests there may be some substance to the belief that this may be their year.  Awesome live band, awesome crowd, awesome night.  Big up the Boom!

Norwich Arts Centre  4/10/2010

Having been hailed as one of the best emerging acts of 2009, Kill It Kid are certainly making a name for themselves, with much of the music press getting more then a little excited about the youngsters from Bath.  Many say they’re the best thing since part-baked bread.  Mmm.  Tonight sees them midway through a tour promoting their acclaimed self-titled debut and they arrive with a reputation for being a great live act.  We wait with baited breath.

The night gets off to a wafty start with Hello Bear’s bassist Tom Harvey having some technical problems so instead we’re treated to a bear-based joke; “Why do bears have fur coats? ‘Cos they’d look silly in anoraks”…BOSH.  False start aside their set kicks off but it’s not long (midway through second song ‘Indulgence’ in fact) before Luke starts having “amplifier issues” of his own.  The band battle on resolutely through the rest of their set, ‘Exquisite Year Of Charm’ and ‘Dirty Weekend’ demonstrating that when the equipment works the Bears are more than accomplished and, although vocalist Luke Fox begins to dance like he’s developed Rickets, they make it to the finish line without the drum kit exploding.

Sketches arrive onstage wearing their guitars like bowties…lower your straps a little bit guys.  The Leeds-based quartet survive choking on their six-strings and proceed to deliver the most enthralling performance Norwich has seen since Paris Hilton gave a seminar on being a twat.  Technical problems have been sorted out and so we are treated to twenty wonderful minutes of lead guitarist Matt Hutt using enough delay to make The Edge seriously consider asphyxiating himself with his hat.  Apparently these guys gate-crashed Reading and Leeds festival this year (“What on the ‘Bag of Bollocks’ stage?” – Anon) and the band do display an impressive knack for churning out songs that are completely indeterminable from the last.  Mr Hutt, when not thrusting like sexually-repressed hedgehog, manages to shoehorn in a torrent of cringe-worthy interludes each greeted with adulation so loud you could hear the band’s bloated egos creaking.  Highlights include “We like your mustards” and a brilliantly misguided reference to Alan Partridge that had even the sound techs audibly groaning in unison.  The only real surprise was the lack of a quip about how much the audience like to gangbang various family members on the back of their traaaactor.  Singer Luke Rogers may resemble an emaciated Derren Brown, but you can’t magic this shit away.

Rant over and finally Kill It Kid shimmy into the Arts Centre spotlight and launch into their set full of confidence and youthful exuberance.  Indeed by the time second song ‘Burst Its Banks’ has finished battering the audience’s ears with its raucous Americana-tinged rock the memory of the previous shambolic dirge is eclipsed.  Apparently KIK’s name derives from the reported words of encouragement from a New York barman to early 20^th century widdler Blind Willie McTell and the band play music heavily influenced by the Piedmont bluesman just amped up…a lot.  Singer Chris Turpin obligingly throws himself around but, just as he seems in genuine danger of slipping a disc, ‘Send An Angel Down’ offers his spine brief respite before its back to full throttle.  As a live act the band are truly something to behold and while the unexplained lack of Fiddly McFiddleson (Richard Jones…on fiddle) does deter slightly from their unique sound it doesn’t prevent the band from milking every filthy drop out of ‘Heaven Never Seemed So Close’.  Finally it’s encore o’clock and the band sign off by unleashing the title track from their new album ‘Let My Feet Fall Heavy’ on those gathered to great effect, certainly whetting the appetite for KIK’s new release.

Well we made it peeps although a hell of a lot is owed to the headliners, their masterclass of slide guitar and piano pummelling demonstrating that Kill It Kid more than live up to their hype and, should Mr Turpin’s back survive its vigorous workouts, are definitely one to watch.  Right I’m off to get a train to Leeds, me and Tony Martin are off to find us some greater-spotted-bell-ends.  Coincidently that’s also what you get for having a go on Paris Hilton…science fact.

The Birdcage   12/08/2010

This is how the story begins…in a dark dark town, there was a dark dark street, on the dark dark street there was a dark dark pub, in the dark dark pub there were dark dark stairs, down the dark dark stairs there were loud drunk men and beside the loud drunk men yours soberly sits.  Woof.

Tonight, in the far echelons of The Birdcage, Barefeet Records offers up a multitude of local songmeisters to dazzle our tympanic membranes with.  After fighting a barrage of cushions for a seat, Barefeet supremo Alex Carson quickly shuffles around collecting the £2 entry fee, which even includes a snazzy free badge…bargain.  Conceived by David Nickerson and the aforementioned shuffly Mr Carson, Barefeet Records is a Norwich-based independent label created as ‘an antidote to struggling independent artists and bands trying to get their music released’.  After the inebriated depart and candles are dispensed we can begin the festivities…

Kicking us off is Floorboy aka Jim, a man-guitar combo death machine (possibly) whose deep dulcet tones exploit the reverb-rich acoustics of the venue.  Despite some capo misplacement and an ‘oh shit I’ve forgotten the words’ moment ‘Never Again’ and ‘Tea and Toast’ display a soulful sound with some adept finger-picking to boot.

Stop.  Mandolin time.  The concisely named Jenny Didn’t Like To Be Photographed play ‘hypnotised’ guitar/mandolin ballads.  Unfortunately for JDLTBP the Birdcage’s cat puts in a guest appearance, its own hypnotic charm causing a mass battle of clicked fingers and ‘here kitties’, the besieged beast only just managing to escape the clutches of one particularly gropey punter.  Maybe JDLTBP should have thrown in an epic mandolin v guitar shred contest to spruce up affairs.  Instead mandolin maestro Gareth Butcher quickly battles through ‘Heart That’s Kind’ (his pick of songs he dislikes the least) and suddenly remembers he needs to get back home to ‘feed his own felines’.  Is this some sort of code regarding hordes of groupies……erm….no.

King Laconic sits down at the microphone next, his fluttering high falsetto voice ripping into the melancholic ‘Muddy Snow’.  The King, Brendan Bennett, is certainly less than loud, his introduction to ‘Abide’ is barely audible, but his unique brand of “high-pitched bitterness” is showcased strongly in songs like ‘Breathing Lesson’.  It is announced that ‘Howl’ could potentially induce some hand-cramp excitement but the laconic one manages to avoid this pitfall and delivers a solid if not particularly spectacular set.

Doing it for the ladies this evening is Milly Hirst who, worryingly, announces she is going to ‘bumble through a few songs’.  Opening with ‘Underbelly’, a tune she wrote at the age of fifteen, early fears are soon laid to rest as she sings without a bumble in sight.  Her powerful voice fills the subtly lit room as she breezes through her set which, complimented by a couple of decent covers, is concluded by the delicate ‘Rose’.

Stepping up at the eyelids-getting-droopy time of 11:00pm with a laid back rendition of ‘Darker Days’ tonight’s final act, Hello Bear, have had to ditch their amps and drumsticks in favour of acoustic geetars and pastry brushes.  This Norwich based trio specialise in songs of a vibrant disposition despite their darker subject matter of broken hearts etc.  ‘Exquisite Year For Charm’ is one such song that shakes along like an epileptic squirrel and the audience is similarly forced into an involuntary foot tap or nod.  Suddenly singer, Luke Fox, announces that the band now intends to ‘bust a cover mash-up on yo asses’ and the immediate gut-wrenching fear is that Journey’s ‘Don’t Stop Believing’ is poised to wreck another evening.  But no, instead the plodding melody of Gorillaz’s’s’s ‘Clint Eastwood’ starts up.  As the crowd emerge from the cushions with renewed intrigue they are then hit with the immortal lyric; ‘In West Philadelphia born and raised…’.  OH. MY. GOD.  Needless to say for any child of the 90’s hearing the theme song from Will Smith’s first incursion into the public’s consciousness is about as exciting as seeing Mark Ronson spontaneously combust.  Stonking.  Promoting their first E.P. ‘Fun At Stable Volume’, the band’s own material is dripping in enough quality to carry itself however.  ‘Indulgence’ and ‘Dirty Weekend’ are both dangerously close to bang-a-langer territory, while each is performed effortlessly.  There is also a natural chemistry between the band members, who are clearly enjoying themselves, and this facilitates their music’s ability to tease a grin from the most sour-faced shite.

There you have it, five doses of Barefeet’s finest for a measly two squid, a free badge, an absence of Journey-based power-clenching, and in Hello Bear a band that will surely be punching smiles onto many many more faces before too long.

The Waterfront   5/8/2010

Having your eardrums violently pummelled by a tag-team of The Loyal Few and Ed Sheeran isn’t everyone’s idea of how to spend a Thursday; many would opt for the vomit-inducing chav-fest that is known as Mercy.  However, given the vast numbers packed into the Waterfront this evening it seems N-Dubz and Wkd have been wisely overlooked in favour of musical talent and Red Stripe.  There is a God.

Emphatic chants greet ‘We Can’t Dance’ to the stage and Ash sets about pounding the bass drum in defiant response.  Formed in Oct 2009 through Access To Music, We Can’t Dance instantly whip up the crowd with an indie-punk-pop mix that showcases their fan’s collective talent at moshing.  Well it’s not the sort of circle pit you would find at a Slayer gig, more of a shoal of demented salmon.  One particularly chunky monkey does manage to skittle a fair few innocent bystanders out of his way before bounding off into the distance.  Promoting the ‘Gary Doherty’ E.P. the band’s indie vibe definitely has greater impact live and they play the title track which, like the nasally well endowed man himself, builds up to unleash some deceptive pace.  Despite appearing very nervous the band play a decent set and ‘Stop, Look and Listen’ results in some über-wiggling from the many people that aren’t jumping like tits.

The first of tonight’s co-headliners are ‘local heroes’ The Loyal Few.  The band is immediately inundated with underwear prised from the various arse-cheeks of their female admirers…the good-looking chaps.  Having been together for many a moon, The Loyal Few pride themselves on not being part of the crowd, songs like ‘Love Like This’ and ‘Sarah’ (which, after much coaxing, gets some audience participation involved) show off the bands style while ‘Stay’ has single written all over it.  Specialising in a catchy chorus, their years of hard graft would certainly explain why we are delivered a performance more polished than Harry Hill’s bonce.  Greg Hackett, on vocal duties, even finds time to play some imaginary bongos every now and then, either that or he was attempting to waft away some incoming undies.

Arriving on stage looking like he’s been bonking in a bush with red hair all over the place and a massive grin on his face, Ed Sheeran is welcomed with humungous cheers.  Having not even turned twenty but with two albums and four EPs under his belt Ed opens with ‘A-Team’, the audience instantly exploding into an unprompted sing-a-long.  Blending acoustic, soul and hip-hop he delivers a truly awesome live performance, even managing to get away with shoe-horning Westlife’s ‘Flying Without Wings’ into the mix without getting shanked up…the man can’t put a foot wrong.  Such is the buzz filling the venue he actually has to politely ask for silence when attempting to lay down some of the looped vocal/guitar tracks.  Indeed he claims it’s the biggest crowd he’s played in front of and looks genuinely humbled by the large turnout.  Ah bless.  But Mr Sheeran is a seasoned performer and it’s brilliant to see the ginger one as he conducts an audience full of adulation through ‘The City’, a song he dedicates to ‘those who had been with him from the start’.  Given the resounding ‘whoops’ that follow this seems to be 95% of the crowd and each one enthusiastically joins in for the rousing ‘You Need Me, I Don’t Need You’.  For his final song, a farewell to his trusted guitar, Ed ventures into the sea of people and stands precariously on a chair to perform a cover of Nizlopi’s ‘All My Life’ that beats the hippie-loving crap out of ‘Kumbayah’.

After much Jamaican Lager Beer has been consumed we can reflect on what a steal the £5 entry fee was, particularly in regards to the headline-stealing second co-headliner.  By no means is Ed Sheeran the first person to use a loop track to construct a tune, but his remarkable song-writing talents, ability to fuse every genre of music (excluding progressive oompah-bluesgrass) and sizable fanbase set him apart from his peers, suggesting that much underwear is on its way for the Suffolk born lad.  DUCK!!

The Waterfront   12/5/2010

Ok peeps it’s time to pull your trousers low, wear your caps sideways and get ready for a brrrap-tastic evening. Tonight’s main act is Chiddy Bang, a genre-shitting hip-hop duo from Philadelphia who’ve set sail on a merry little voyage to promote their debut album. Okay, so it’s not out until August, but Mr Bang and his tune-toting sidekick Xaphoon (bless you) Jones are riding high after the success of “Opposite Of Adults”, their MGMT “Kids” samplefest single.

First of all however we have The Constellations, an eight-piece from Atlanta who fuse soul, rock and hair to create a lovely slice of American psychedelic pie. Their sound perfectly suits small, smoky venues and the group perform their funky outbursts admirably, despite a rather comatose reception. “Step Right Up” is a particular highlight and sees the band really let loose with Jamie “The Beard” Gordon beating the hell out of any instrument that dares to get in his way - cow bell, tambourine, triangle, you shove it in his face he’ll beat the inanimate crap out of it. Their energy fails to rile the crowd who, aside from shouting “anus”, are more interested in whether their dad is able to pick them up.

It’s clear from Chiddy Bang’s upcoming tour dates that their target audience are people young enough not to be scarred by the knowledge of who or what Rick Astley is, with university campuses well and truly canvassed. Indeed, the samples they glean do have a youthful positivity to them, songs like “Fresh Like Us” and “Truth” bounce along like a donkey on a treadmill. Tonight though it’s all delivered minus the vibrancy or enthusiasm required. Instead the guys are seemingly happy to let their music survive purely on the recognition factor of the samples used – “You guys heard of Ellie Goulding?” Yes, yes we have. Is this enough to get us excited about the album you are promoting? No, no it isn’t. We are treated to some token audience participation during the chorus of “Never” and also in the build up to a Chiddy freestyle… Ooooh.

As Xaphoon introduces the best freestyler he’s ever heard, the audience is encouraged to shout out some crazy shizzle for the Bangster to rap about. The four choices beaten from the audience were, brace yourself; shoes, the roof, norwich girls and…the number two. Hmm. Enter, you guessed it, another very recent sample in the shape of Tinie Tempah’s “Pass Out” and Chiddy breaks out a freestyle… or at least a few murmured words before shouting “SHOES… murmur murmur… THE ROOF…’ and so on. And so forth.

He is slightly redeemed by shoe-horning “constipation” into the mix, but it is quite clear the band don’t really fancy Norwich as a vital destination in their voyage for success. Approximately 26 minutes after taking the stage, the duo blast through their finale, “Opposite Of Adults”, which it has to be said is an absolute choon, and the audience duly burst into a sea of animation.

Just as quickly as it started its over and we are allowed to hoist our jeans, re-align our caps, and wander off to find our daddy, wondering whether what just happened was really a worthwhile venture. Proof, once and for all, that it’s not always a good idea to tour on the back of just one song.

The Marquee   8/7/2010

The Plight have been making some Hulk-Hogan-firing-one-out-after-nailing-a-litre-of-protein-shake-sized ripples in the music world for a while now.  Having played Download festival in June they now find themselves mid-tour in the increasingly humid surroundings of The Marquee’s Back Room, promoting their album ‘Winds of Osiris’.  Supported by three other rock-a-licious bands it looks like we’re in for a sweaty one.

Surprise package of the evening comes in the youthful shape of Manbearpig who, despite only having been together for a few months, have an aggression that demands the audience’s full attention throughout their five song salvo.  ‘White on Gold’ is an angsty blast of angstyness and overall the trio display song-writing and technical skills beyond their tender years.           

Next up is Thetford-based quintet William English.  Despite the heat singer Mark Brand sets about his task as chief ringmaster with great enthusiasm, swinging his mic around manically.  Thankfully no-one is killed and we can enjoy his rasping vocals tear through their volatile set.  ‘T.H.C.’ is a particular highlight complete with sludgy Pantera-esque riffery and punchy chorus.  The band also throws in an angry hokey cokey for our amusement, everybody…“YOU PUT YOUR LEFT LEG IN, YOUR LEFT LEG OUT”…

Opening with the defiant ‘We Won’t Be Leaving’, 1000 Hertz assertively enter the fray.  Lead scream-master John Hall blasts every word at the crowd with real tenacity, and how the drummer’s arms don’t fall off during the finale is a miracle, he was whooping his banger THAT hard.  Its patently clear the band are passionate about what they do but ‘Face of a Failure’ and ‘We Want The Truth’ are also proof that the band are armed with some catchy-like-Chlamydia tunes as well as being really REALLY angry.

Finally, after some very important warm-up lunges, we have some rather hirsute young gentlemen from Leeds.  The Plight were originally scheduled to tour in February but had to cancel after losing a band member, however, they thankfully re-grouped and added Norwich to their gallivantings.  The intimate surroundings are perfect for the dynamic live performance of the self-professed “party band”, and they waste no time in getting fully involved with the audience, vocalist Alistair Mancrief demanding that everyone get close so that he can “smell them”…brave man.  It only takes second song, ‘It Only Gets Worse’, for people to be lured into a hair-whipping frenzy, further terrorizing those just getting over their “flailing microphone” trauma.  The band aren’t courting favour or following trends, as they have said themselves; “we don’t care if you don’t like us, we probably don’t like you either!”, but if their punk-tinged ditties somehow fail to rock your bollocks off Mr Mancrief will obligingly get into the crowd and shake your dingles for you.  Indeed, everything required for a great live band is on display, bags of energy, shed loads of hair and really strong tunes, in particular, ‘Ball and Chain’ gallops along like Sarah Jessica Parker in the 10 o’clock at Aintree, and set-ender ‘Winds of Osiris’s crushing ending leave those assembled desperately craving more.

And so, after the four-pronged offensive has ceased, we are sent off into the night feeling deafened, a moily feeling around the crotch and a bloody great grin plastered all over our collective faces.  Certainly surpassing the calibre of these bands must surely prove troublesome for the organisers of the evening, while we have to hope that The Plight get their hairy backsides back here soon…..SOON!