I am the guitarist for the Deep Fried Wolfknuckles and we're headlining tonight. Friends of friends from Larkhall have arranged the gig, I think they could be the first and third bands on. It could be the first time they're put on a gig here, fresh and excited, unjaundiced by the cold reality of 13th Note giggery.
Ooh, straight into hard and fast shouty rocking. As the Germans might say "Your hard rock rhythms and devilish guitar playing sets my soul on fire". I only wish there were more than four paying punters here to appreciate it. Some of the tightest drumming I've seen in a while but these kids are still in their teens, how can it be?
They neatly manage to maintain the momentum all through the set and countless blistering guitar solos, but I'm a bit concerned the singer chap's going to do his voice in before long.
The Kimberly Steaks, second band on stage, just the two of them, thanking god that this will be their last ever acoustic set. I wouldn't be so sure, it seems like they're trying so hard to be Green Day's "Time of Your Life" even down to the accents.
The talking bits in songs would be so much better if the audience could actually hear the words. Its hard not to mention it again, but we're down to about three paying punters by this point. Its maybe worth abandoning convention and just having fun jamming rather than putting on the originally planned show.
I wonder what's on at the Carling Academy tonight.
Alan say "It was all right, but not in the Smokey Robinson sense of 'all right'"
Third band, same drummer as the first band. The deepest, fuzziest guitar I've heard for a while, by the name of Murder Burger. Aw, the cutest thing, they have matching t-shirts, black with white skull and crossbones.
Hmm, they sound a little too similar to the first band. More animated maybe, the singer/guitarist writhes with his guitar more than the guy from the first band and somehow manages to hold his plectrum through the fabric of his sleevey sleeve.
I'm not 100% sure what it was, but halfway through the set, after fixing a broken guitar string, the sound went crap. Either the bass or a guitar turned into a long drawn out shapeless boom and onstage they didn't care. The singer's guitar turned into the audio equivalent of tin foil but soon got buried under the boom.
Aw man, bring on the Wolfknuckles.
I'm biased maybe, but we were seemlessly professional, hardly cocked up any songs and rocked out a fat one.
Alas the other bands had fucked off upstairs so we were playing to three people, not including Iain the sound guy and the barmaid who kindly agreed to wear one of our Wolfknuckle masks.
The other bands and their entourage made it back downstairs in time to catch our last song.
Fuck that shit.