Headliner Sigh’s entertaining performance was scuppered for me by one idiot who’d borrowed Claudia Schiffer’s hair, and his chortling, beer-swigging troll of a brother, who used the breaks between songs to shout abuse at the only female member, a relatively new addition to the group, ‘Dr Mikannibal’. Her outfit seemed to take inspiration from Princess Ai and every evil Japanese schoolgirl film you’ve even seen, so it was easy to see why. However, it’s still a shame to endure requests such as “Spread your wings!” and “Sing, YOKO ONO!” coming from obviously drunk, horny gig-goers who think it’ll be hilarious to attack a woman whose voice alone should instantly emasculate them. The Doctor has learnt to take it all in her stride, but I hadn’t, so to stop myself from starting on Tweedledeath and Tweedlecum I strode too, to the other side of the room where they’d be out of earshot.
Some snapshots from the night:
It was my first experience of that venue and while I enjoyed the intimacy, there could’ve been more of an effort to distinguish the backstage area (which I of course waltzed straight into, seeking respite from pinching platform boots) from the rest. Although I suppose it does allow for band members and their fans to ‘Come Together’ before a swift 'Hello Goodbye'. (Sorry).