OK, time for some serious reporting back (she said, eating a chicken). There was a gig last night. You might have heard about it. You might have heard everything you want to know about it, in which case you may as well delete this now. On arrival in Manchester, the signs were looking good - they were even playing the Divine Comedy in Burger King. (although quite why I was looking at the signs I'm not sure, since I got there by train). So I headed to the pub to find a gaggle of Sinisterines. Well OK, I actually walked straight past the pub until Amy came running out onto the street yelling at me - obviously putting the name of the pub on a sign above the door would have been too much to ask... Inside were various stars of list and screen. Amongst other discoveries were that brotherly love is still alive and well in the Apps household; and that stars of TV's Holby City like to relax by eating lollypops smothered in Dairylea. Meanwhile, Cay arrived violently, and much beer was consumed. At about 7.30ish, we decided it was about time to head over to the Apollo, so we'd be in plenty of time for the support band. Of course, by the time we'd stopped at a newsagents and a bank, and been lectured on the correct method for making chicken soup by a random woman on the bus (apparently Cay should "find some flour and get her dumplings out"...), we'd missed the support act completely. Oh well, I'm sure they weren't that great. Cay violently managed to get us about 10 rows from the front, which was nice. maybe not so nice for the people standing behind me, but never mind. Didn't someone say there was a sticky carpet in the venue? where we were it was just a slippy floor covered in beer glasses. Which made dancing that little bit harder. The gig started well, with two of the best songs. But then things seemed to get a bit muted. A few people near the front were dancing their cotton socks off, but disappointingly few I thought. Maybe it was the band not putting as much energy into it; far more likely, it was that the audience around me weren't as mad for it (obligatory Manchester reference). I seemed to be surrounded by couply couples, which is never a good thing. Oh, and a ginger goblin standing to my right (if you're on the list, I'm sorry. Actually, sod it, it's as well that someone tells you; very few people look good with a moustache and bushy beard, and I'm afraid you're not one of them). At one point in the gig (I think it was during You Made Me Forget My Dreams), the girl on my right said to the bloke who'd had his arm round her all night (approximate transcription): Her: "Would you get really embarrassed now if I got down on one kneee?" Him: "Not really, why, would you?" Her: "Yes, I would a bit." Him: "That's where we're different. I really do want to marry you." For a while, I was convinced I was going to have a marriage proposal happening right next to me in the audience! After a few quieter songs, Stuart got to the 'audience request' section. His first plan was that since we were in the "music capital of the world" (cue cheers and laughter from different sections of the audience), there must be loads of people there who were in famous bands; so he was going to get them to all come up on stage and do a song. Unfortunately, the best he managed was 2 members of Alfie, so that fell a bit flat. So instead, Stevie did a version of Suspicious Minds, which was suspiciously good and well-rehearsed. The gig then proceeded more or less as expected. Alarmingly few people had the stamina to keep clapping all the way through TBWTAS (and half of them were out of time...), and there still weren't all that many people dancing by the end, but que sera sera. As usual, they finished with Legal Man, but with a difference. During the instrumental break in the middle when they normally get all the string section and so on to bang bongos and cowbells and stuff, a sudden change in the bassline brought the Stone Roses into the equation; and they segued seamlessly into a cover of I Am The Resurrection, quite possibly the greatest song ever to come out of Manchester. Much delirious armwaving later, they went back into the final part of Legal Man to finish. Now I'm not 100% sure about any of this, since I didn't write it down at the time, and it's almost certainly in the wrong order; but the setlist went something along the lines of: Sleep The Clock Around (as always, far better live than the album version) There's Too Much Love The Magic Of A Kind Word (he's still singing "Shake Mother Goose"...) Seeing Other People String Bean Jean I Want To Dance The Night Away (oops, sorry, Wandering Alone, easy mistake to make) Don't Leave The Light On Baby You Made Me Forget My Dreams Is It Wicked Not To Care? Suspicious Minds (Elvis lives...) The Model Instrumental (with Stevie on the harmonica. I think this was previously known as Tigermilk, not sure what they're callling it now - maybe this is Fuck This Shit?) Me And The Major I'm Waking Up To Us Like Dylan In The Movies The Wrong Girl Dirty Dream #2 The Boy With The Arab Strap Legal Man / I Am The Resurrection At the end of the gig, we resisted the arsehole bouncers as long as possible (if they stopped shouting at us all to leave the building, and actually hepled out in the coakroom instead, it'd be a lot quicker...) before wandering back into town. One burger and chips later, time to head for the Star and Garter for the official aftershow party; where more sinisteringes awaited us. After a while, and a few drinks, enough energy was built up which had to be used up on the dancefloor, where we were greeted by a mixture of indie tunes of varying vintage and obscurity; the inevitable Strokes record; and such classics as Teenage Kicks and even a bit of Blondie. Most of the band didn't make it, but Stuart Murdoch was there (obviously the real party animal in the band...). Covert surveillance noted that he wasn't dancing much (not really his type of music I suspect), and spent most of the night either signing autographs on the back of tickets or being chatted up by young ladies (unsurprisingly unsuccessfully). And the real anoraks out there may want to know that he was wearing a white shirt with a black jacket, but no tie. He left at about 2.30, freeing the DJ to put a couple of B&S records on for those of us who were hardy / foolish enough to be still dancing. And then we all went home. Well actually, it wasn't for a bit longer, because the first train back wasn't until 4.30am, and since it was a Virgin train it got me back here an hour later than in should have done, at nearly 9 o'clock this morning. So I'm not feeling particularly awake today (I don't do mornings. Ever. I only discovered about two years ago that 6 o'clock happens twice a day). Hello everyone who was there. And since I'm an impartial sort of person, hello to everyone who wasn't there as well. We missed you. We talked about several of you (you, over there, are a dirty old man. And you, over there, are just disgusting). It was a good night (/ early morning). Roll on the next tour... Big Stu PS We've had IYFS, TBWTAS and FYHCYWLAP; is the new album going to be known as S? +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the Sinister mailing list +---+ To send to the list mail sinister@missprint.org. 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