I manage The Plimptons.
Arrived at the venue about three songs in and the band are on fire, in full costume. Marty (guitar and vocals) in dress and stacked wig, Neil (bass) in his girlfriend's dress, Paul (keyboards) in eyeliner, white shirt and red tie, Adam (vocals) in chimney sweep garb and Rowan (drums) nun.
Gotta be the biggest gig of their career and with the bestest sound engineer. Even when they cocked up the start of Ocean Colour Ressurrection it turned into a lesson in quality of service.
Half the guys in the crowd didn't have a clue, the other half, die-hard Plimptons fans. There were even cute girls dancing.
Being on stage, miles away from the punters meant they had to drop the usual visual aides for 'Rule Britannia' and Cal missed out on his Thatcher routine for 'John Major'. But they still won out.
Dressing room with a shower and fake booze in the fridge.
Graham PinUp is here, seems to be enjoying himself.
I think I'm rather in love with the girl who served me beer. A little Avril Lavigneish, but perky for that and she had the pixie/hair/ear thing going on. Young enough to be my daughter.
Futuro on stage. They have stardom in their sights. Ticking all the boxes.
Merely a three piece, but they have the thronging crowd enraptured.
Aw man, I broke my camera
I broke my camera bad
"Is this their new single or 'Darts of Pleasure'?"