Sinister: don't waste your words, i don't need anything from you

[ETypeJoe at xxx.com]

from months of sini-lurking to a couple of glorious hours (well alright about 
an hour and forty if you're going to be so pedantic about it) lurking at the 
left hand side of the manchester apollo.

what another glorious gig then! (you'll note that this post is just sooooooo 
full of content, content, content, just to exhaust my content quota so i can 
lurk until, oooh, at least 2003). unfortunately this post will not be quite 
as long as advertised in my head - you can blame the lovely arriva buses for, 
well, just not being arsed to send the last bus to turn up at stretford 
arndale - its a long story that i won't bore you with, suffice to say travel 
plans were somewhat complicated by a local train strike, but i cannot scold 
the working man or woman for exercising the right to strike, particularly in 
the town where some blokes called marx and engels wrote some pamphlet or 
other. i think the only trains that were running seemed to be heading to 
york, so some on sinister should have been okay, eh gina? regardless, it 
should not take as long to get from one side of manchester to the other as it 
does for a popular scottish beat combo to bring joy into our hearts.

for those of you who don't know the manchester apollo is a very grand venue - 
its the carpet that sticks to your feet that does it for me. its not exactly 
the most intimate of venues, but long gone are the days when you can see 
struan's pupils even stood at the back. that sounds like a gripe - its not 
meant to. i can't be doing with people espousing elitist *oh i only go to see 
bands play in venues the size of phone boxes* type attitudes (isobel prolly 
wouldn't get her cello in in any case) - those of us lucky enough to see the 
band play should appreciate them whereever they are playing. i actually had a 
bizarre image halfway through the set of watching belle and sebastian play in 
ten years or so in some arena or other with my currently 6 year daughter 
megan, and being way at the back and having to watch on the screens. i don't 
think it would ever happen, but who knows? as long as they promised not to 
cover *the final countdown* or summat like that...

anyway i digress - at least the apollo has *some* character unlike the 
soulless academy...

i did intend to be really helpful and note the setlist. i even had the back 
of my bus timetable and my wee pencil i got free from a date with ikea ready 
- i got a song or two in, but it was a bit hard juggling a floppy plastic 
glass of overpriced lager so i gave up. hopefully someone far more talented 
can post it on here (or at least someone fleet of foot or hand enough to grab 
an actual setlist).

anyhow, a lot of similarities with embra as far as i can recall - no *the 
state i'm in* or *llpj* sadly, but we did have *string bean jean* in common, 
and we got *me and the major*, *there's too much love* and *sleep the clock 
around* - we doubtless got other gems but my memory fades ever more quickly 
these days. tonight's mid-set cover was not as i had hoped *the queen is 
dead* (would that have been in poor taste?), but a wonderful *suspicious 
minds* - i think stevie has a great future career as an elvis impersonator - 
maybe stuart david just got a bit confused on *a century of elvis* after all, 
and...

oh yeah i was telling you about the gig wasn't i? there was the obligatory 
*legal man* to end the set, but it metamorphosised (not a reference to the 
manchester treasure hunt i must add, for those of us who looked - when do we 
get all the answers by the way?) into *i am the resurrection*, which was 
played a damn sight better than when i last saw the roses play it live - 
goddamn, it was in tune! i swear that struan played a bar or two of the 
bassline to *transmission* by joy division as it changed back, but that might 
just be me hearing things.

anyhow, i've rambled for longer than i thought i would and i have to find an 
phone number for arriva so that oo can rant at them tomorrow - lucky them!

yours from the outer suburbs of lurkerdom,
jonny
xx
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