We could do with a weekly feature on this blog just to ensure some regular updates. So here it is: the Indie Credential Manchester Gig Guide, our pick of what’s on in our fair city over the next seven days.

And what a week to start: On Monday we’re off to see The Twilight Sad at the Night & Day. They played there a couple of months ago and were great, but I wonder if they’ll bring the acoustic vibe of the new Here It Never Snowed EP with them this time round. Support is from Edinburgh’s Broken Records, which I’m very much looking forward to. Also on Monday, the newly reformed Rival Schools play the Academy 3.

On Tuesday it’s the mouthwatering prospect of Beach House and Fleet Foxes at the Roadhouse. With Fleet Foxes everywhere on the web at the moment, this is totally sold out, as is the great Leonard Cohen‘s four night residency at the Opera House which starts on the same night. We’re off to see him on Wednesday and we’ll let you know if it was worth the frankly ridiculous £80 admission fee by the weekend.

On Thursday there’s another attractive looking double bill with Liars supported by Deerhunter at the Club Academy, while on Friday The Longcut play the Deaf Institute, supported by Day For Airstrikes and Mechanical Owl, and Tim And Sam’s Tim And The Sam Band With Tim And Sam play the Kro Bar with support from Ed Cottam, among others.

Broken Records make a quick return to Manchester on Saturday when they play the Ruby Lounge. If they impress on Monday night then we might well make our way down there.

The pick of Sunday‘s action is certainly the Strawberry Shortcake Festival at the Klondyke Bowls Club in Levenshulme featuring some bands we’ve heard of (Sparky Deathcap, Amida) and lots that we haven’t (Plaaydoh, Jam On Bread, Klaus Says Buy The record). With a ton of bands on, each getting 15 minutes each, it should be a blast. It starts at 2pm and tickets cost £7.50.

Roughly a year ago the Hold Steady played their first ever Manchester gig at Club Academy. It was full of men in their thirties and forties. In fact, it’s entirely possible that Bricking Chick and I were the only two females in the place, not that I’d have noticed because I was too busy dancing. A week later and The Ledge was with me in Sheffield at a riotous gig that he refers to as “the greatest night of [his] life.”

Oh how things change and yet how they stay the same!

Tuesday night the Hold Steady played an NME gig in the Academy 2. The front row, instead of being packed full of middled-aged men (and me), was full of young lads, some escorted by their parents. The average age of the Hold Steady fan had dropped in the course of a year by about 10 years. Not bad really. Too bad my age won’t do the same. It was disturbing yet thrilling. I worried that the atmosphere would change and that the band’s live show, which works so well in a small venue where there is no distance between them and the audience, would suffer. I didn’t really have to worry (although I fear a leap up to the Academy 1 may be disastrous).

First, however, we had to suffer through The Haze. Now, I can’t work out how they ended up on the bill. I can only imagine that the promoter was walking along a quiet London street when he got hit in the head by, I don’t know, a large piece of debris from a Russian satellite as it crashed to Earth, and was so dazed when he got in to the office that he thought it was 1985 and getting The Cult to play was a good idea. I can’t imagine if he’d been in his right mind he’d have booked a band whose entire set consisted of variations on “She Sells Sanctuary,” a song I can almost tolerate when I’m too drunk to know better.

The Hold Steady were on great form from the start, all smiles, with Craig Finn saying that he wanted to top their last Manchester show, back in July, which he reckoned was an amazing night. I wouldn’t know, but it was great to get a different opening song, the snarling “Hornets! Hornets!” which we’d not seen live before and which led into a raucous “Stuck Between Stations.” At this point they were off, running through a set which was about half Boys & Girls in America, which the crowd sang back, and half Separation Sunday. Keyboard player Franz Nicolay, sporting a beard to go along with his handlebar moustache, was on good form, making eye contact and grinning at most of the front row, and Craig Finn kept exhorting the crowd to clap and dance more, although he seems to have stopped repeating every line he’s just sung away from the microphone for emphasis. I missed it.

Two new songs made the set: “Constructive Summer,” ostensibly about being home from university for the summer and trying to find something to do, and “Stay Positive” which is the title track from their upcoming album (and which we sneakily filmed for you viewing pleasure). While The Ledge reckons “Constructive Summer” sounds like Hüsker Dü, I thought that both songs were very much in the vein of Boys & Girls in America, that is to say, pop rock songs with great singalong choruses. I’m looking forward to hearing them when I can actually make out the lyrics.

Despite having seen the Hold Steady about a half dozen times over the last 13 months, I continue to be amazed at their ability to be playing a gig with the crowd rather than for us. A lot of bands (can you hear me, Pete Doherty) play lip service to breaking down the barrier between themselves and the audience, but most of those other bands want to be rock stars more than anything and they want to be around their fans so they can get fawned over and told how great they are. The Hold Steady, on the other hand, are no different from their audience (except of course for the fact that they’re genius songwriters) because they’re in the room for the same reason that we’re in the room – because a great gig is a thing of joy and because great music soundtracks all the important moments of our lives and getting to experience that music which is, ahem, scratched into our souls, in a live setting, with 1000 other people experiencing the same thing, can be the greatest feeling in the world.

The Hold Steady – Hornets! Hornets!

Video: “Stay Positive”

In what is possibly not an auspicious start to the gig-going for 2008 I attended my first emo gig since about 1996 (back when emo bands played church basements full of straight-edged teenagers and didn’t wear eyeliner), using a spare ticket that Bricking Chick had for 30 Seconds To Mars, the band fronted by none other than Jordan Catalano out of the TV show My So-Called Life. Most of you probably know him as Jared Leto. Having only a vague idea that the band play some sort of predictable emo rock, I was, I must admit, tempted enough by the notion of being able to gaze up at the rather nice looking Mr. Leto that I completely forgot about the last time I saw a rock band fronted by a Hollywood leading man – Keanu Reeves and his band Dogstar who were the laughing stock of Glastonbury in 1999 because they were so abysmally awful.

This was nowhere near as bad as that Dogstar performance. Thank goodness.

For starters, Jared Leto can actually sing. In fact, his voice reminds me a lot of that of Ed Kowalczyck of +Live+ whose first two albums are pretty good. 30 Seconds to Mars are actually pretty competent musicians who do a very good job of entertaining a crowd. While the songs were pretty derivative and the set contained far too many ballads, their music was in no way offensive or off-putting. It just wasn’t particularly memorable. On the whole, though, I liked the louder songs well enough and was somewhat amazed by the fact that this was more of a “rock” show than the Marylin Manson gig I attended back in December (which really was just theatrical pop). The only real downsides were the fact that we couldn’t get close enough to the stage to really see the band and the between-song banter which was just pathetic. Apparently a song which Bricking Chick informs me they wrote two years ago is actually about their trip to China they took last month which was, it would seem, “life-changing.” Whatever.

The highlight of the night was not actually the band, though, it was the teeming masses of 15-year-olds who were in the crowd (whose parents were queuing to collect them at the end of the night). They were brilliant. They were enthusiastic, they were screaming like the girls in those old videos of The Beatles, and I swear that the four girls in front of us, kitted out not only in 30 Seconds to Mars T-shirts and hoodies but also bags and wristbands, were crying at one point. Maybe the choice of band is a bit poor, but hopefully with that enthusiasm for their music in a couple of years they will have developed a taste for something a bit more challenging and unusual. The fans of today’s manufactured rock may well be the people buying records by the next At the Drive-In, Trail of Dead or even Mogwai.

So, musically, not as good a beginning as 2007, but still a hopeful start to 2008.

To say I’d been looking forward to the return of the New Pornographers to Manchester was an understatement. The new album, Challengers, is a great romp and the addition of Kathryn Calder as a full time member of the band has added even more spark to the massive harmonies. Even knowing that neither Neko Case or Dan Bejar could be bothered coming over to Europe (even though they’ve played all the American dates), did very little to dampen my excitement.

First, however, we had to endure a band called It Hugs Back. Now, they weren’t the worst opening band I’ve ever seen. They play very American-influenced indie guitar rock and a couple of tracks early on in their set were not bad. The last two songs, which they said were their singles clearly sounded like they’d been written to record label specifications about “how to write a radio-friendly single” and they were pretty mundane. Frankly, however, the name “It Hugs Back” is so bad, and so evocative of whingey emo, that even if they had been the best band I had ever seen in my entire life, I would never buy one of their albums. I’d be too embarassed to have that CD in my collection. Sorry guys, but I have to draw the line somwhere. I mean, I can handle a name like “I Love You But I’ve Chosen Darkness” mainly because it pretty much describes what they sound like. “…And You Will Know Us By the Trail of Dead” is just clever. “Death Cab For Cutie” evokes smiles. But, “It Hugs Back”? Really? I don’t think so. As I have no idea what “It” is, I certainly don’t want “It” to be tactile. Stand back please. Way back. Further still. Thank you.

Now the New Pornos…the last time I saw them, in the Night & Day touring Twin Cinema, had been a great gig but for one problem – the sound was so poor that we could barely tell what songs they were playing. We couldn’t hear the vocals at all. I assumed it was the venue as occasionally the sound is ropey in there. It wasn’t the venue. While we could distinguish the songs this time as the instruments sounded great, we could still barely hear the vocals. One guy even told the band and they tried to fix it. Sadly, they didn’t quite manage. As so much of their sound is in the complex harmonies, this does detract a bit from the sound. Thankfully, their enthusiasm on stage more than made up for the problems with the sound.

The set was great. Gleeful opener “All the Things That Go to Make Heaven and Earth,” from Challengers moving quickly into “Use It” from Twin Cinema. “Jackie Dressed In Cobras” which appeared about five songs in sounded so different without the distinctive sound of Dan Bejar that I almost didn’t recognise it, but A.C. Newman more than compensated for his absence by making the vocal all his own.

I was thrilled to hear “The Laws Have Changed” which is the song that got me interested in them in the first place, recent single “My Rights Versus Yours” was an enthusiastic singalong and “Mass Romantic” kept the pace. The crowd were friendly and even the young hecklers stood behind The Ledge were more amusing than anything. With such a full stage I didn’t know where to look. A.C. Newman never stops moving, Kathryn Calder never stops smiling, drummer Kurt Dahle was pulling weird faces and kept sticking his tongue out in between delivering backing vocals, and Blaine Thurier kept making eye contact with much of the front row, smiling, nodding, and, in my case, giving me the finger as I photographed him playing the harmonica.

The energy actually kept building from start to finish right through to main set-closers “Sing Me Spanish Techno” which prompted lots of dancing and “The Bleeding Heart Show” which suffers a bit from the lack of Neko’s booming voice coming in at the end, although maybe this was because we could barely hear Kathryn Calder singing and not so much the actual absence of the queen of alt.country.

The encore of “Letter from an Occupant” and “The Slow Descent into Alcoholism” was the perfect finish to a great set, especially as we made away with a full, sealed bottle of beer, kindly donated to me by Kurt Dahle as he came back onto the stage.

We walked away infinitely satisfied with the performance delivered by a group who are rapidly becoming one of the most-played bands here at Indie Cred HQ. Hopefully they’ll be back again soon.

There’s a link to the full set up at Thunderfrogs.

Or, you could just listen to a couple of tracks:

The New Pornographers – The Bleeding Heart Show

The New Pornographers – Challengers

Gig Goer(s) of the Week, part 9 – Peter, Bjorn & John at Manchester Academy 2

I think I should start a blog about manners and politeness. Clearly there are a lot of people who don’t know how to behave and who have no respect for themselves or for those around them. As a child the phrase “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you” was drilled into my head over and over again. I think it’s pretty good advice and I do my best to follow it. Sadly, most people do not.

Last night, despite still having the remnants of a nasty ear infection and despite being utterly exhausted from a sleepless, strange and rather promising week, realising that I could get to the front and actually see the gig, even though we turned up quite late, I dragged The Ledge to the front of the Academy 2. I mean, it’s Peter, Bjorn and John, right? Even though they “rock out” a bit more live, I didn’t expect any more of a hassle than occurred at Leeds Festival, which was to say none at all as the crowd were very gleeful and friendly. Stood to my right was a rather drunken woman who was swaying about, but she kept smiling at me. Her boyfriend looked disinterested in Maps, but you can’t please everybody.

About four songs into the main set this woman, who had been singing loudly (off-key) and rather gleefully, disappeared, presumably to the bar or the toilet. Immediately upon her leaving, this monster with a face that could crack glass pushed her way next to me. She started bouncing about like a mad lady and was, for all intents and purposes, bodyslamming me. Her singing involved lots of “la la las” as she didn’t know the words. I elbowed back a couple of times, wary that she had a full glass of red wine and I was wearing my favourite stripey t-shirt which has a lot of white on it. Eventually she stopped, but she was exhorting one of her friends to come stand with her. I could see the boyfriend who was waiting for the return of the lady who had been next to me lean in and say something. He probably said his girlfriend was coming back – which is fair enough. It wasn’t one of those shows where you snooze you lose. The crowd was not heavily packed in and, well, politeness dictates that if someone can get back then you should let them! This girl responded by berating him for standing with his arms folded and not dancing because apparently it is wrong of someone to simply watch and enjoy, if you aren’t dancing it’s not fair on the band. He ignored this. How can you tell someone else how to enjoy a gig? Eventually the girlfriend did return and they both had to move back because, well, they clearly weren’t the “Biggest Fans” and didn’t deserve to stand at the front.

This is the point where Elephant #2 pushed her way up and I got shoved into the nice girl to my left. There had barely been room for one person when Elephant #1 appeared. There was certainly no room for two people each the size of two people. But these two did not care, I mean they were the Biggest Fans in the room, everyone else could go to hell. I was at this point treated to loud screechy talking through the next 3 or so songs which involved, mostly, drunken screams of “He’s so hot! I am going to snog him! I am going to make him kiss me! He’s so hot!” directed at lead singer Peter, poor guy. Then they started trying to get his attention by shouting these things at him. It became “You’re so hot! I want to lick you all over! Come give me a kiss!” And exclamations of “He’s not listening to me?! He didn’t hear it! If he did he’d come kiss me.” Now, I’m pretty sure he did hear them because at one point he glanced over and actually grimaced. I mean, if he’d fled the stage at the sight of these two I wouldn’t have blamed him. He’d probably have preffered snogging the shirtless fat, sweaty guy stood a couple of rows behind me. I really wanted to tell them it wasn’t a Take That gig and could they please shut up with the talking as the rest of us were trying to watch the band, but I didn’t think it was worth the argument.

That is, it wasn’t worth the argument until the band started playing “Young Folk” and these two started bodyslamming me again, dragging more mates into a small space that couldn’t fit them, screaming “Where’s John?” (playing drums where he had been through the whole gig, you dumb fucktards!) and, even better, tapping me on the shoulder and going “Smile! You look like you’re not having fun.” (No, you asshats, I’m not having fun, I’m being bodyslammed by a pair of elephants who are shouting over the music and hurting my ears.) I glared at them in hopes they’d back off and went back to trying to hear the gig.

Then Elephant #1 lit up a cigarette. Now, I hate smoke. I really really do. When it was legal I tolerated it, despite chronic sinus problems and asthma. I no longer have to tolerate it because it’s illegal to smoke indoors. So I politely leaned over and said “Could you put that out please?” She responded with “No.” Excuse me? I pointed out she wasn’t meant to be smoking and she said “I don’t care. You can’t stop me anyway.” In that split second I had to make the decision between staying put just to piss them off and making more judicious use of my elbows to defend myself or humiliating her by sending security after her. I opted for security. Sure enough, he was in there straight away and took her cigarette. She may have lit up again the moment he left, but everyone in the crowd saw it happen and I think I made my point of – you can’t smoke and yes, I can stop you. Result.

The whole thing however left a sour taste in my mouth and although I could have returned back to where I was as The Ledge is very good at saving my spot, I figured I felt ill, I was tired and I didn’t want a fight with a herd of drunken animals.

The point? Why is it that people feel the need to make a spectacle of themselves in the hope of the band spotting them and branding them the “Biggest Fan?” Everyone there is there to enjoy themselves and everybody enjoys music in a different way, so why force your enjoyment on others, particularly when it spoils a gig for everyone around you? Most of the audience was in fact dancing without bodyslamming anyone or screaming like a slutty hyena over the band. So ladies, it’s time for you to learn some manners, to realise that you are not the world, and to develop some respect for both yourselves and for those around you.

I’ve grumbled about my advancing years on this blog in the past and, thanks to evenings like this, I’m totally over it. The Wedding Present’s latest tour is in celebration of the 20th anniversary of the release of their classic debut album, George Best, an album I remember buying 20 years ago and one which has clearly stood the test of time.

It seems that many of the band’s erstwhile fans have also stood the test of time as the “newly refurbished” (portaloos, entrance through a gap in the hoardings, only one bar open) Academy was packed to its shiny new rafters with fortysomethings intent on reliving the glory days of a nascent British indie scene. As the band launched into the opening “Blonde” from Seamonsters – and I don’t think I could have chosen a better opener myself – thus the crowd launched into each other, bodies flying up and down, side to side, large bodies mostly, fortysomething years of chips, beer and Sunday morning fry-ups; a huge, heaving, fleshy quagmire.

I stayed on the periphery at first, fending off elbows and shoulders as a sublime Brassneck increased the intensity before a new song (which may have been called “I’m Always Like This When I’m Drunk”) and a Cinerama number calmed things down a little. A couple of songs later and it was time for the main event of the evening. A girl in a rabbit costume holding some large numbered cards lead a countdown and produced the final card showing the George Best album cover. It took four words from David Gedge – “oh why do you…” – to convince me to join the throng. It was a reaction I had not anticipated and one that I barely seemed to have control over, but it was the right thing to do. Having seen The Wedding Present almost 30 times, the first being way back in May 1986 when they supported James at the Leeds Ritzy, I’ve done some serious moshing to these songs in the past but nowadays at other gigs I feel quite self-conscious about letting myself go in the company of (usually) much younger audience members, afraid that I might look like a dad dancing at a wedding, or throw my back out, or both. In a very good-natured crowd of people of roughly the same age this didn’t seem to be a problem and the rest of the gig was a blast as the whole of the album was played out in order.

David Gedge is the only remaining member of the band from 20 years ago but the current line-up did a fine job of producing what were pretty faithful renditions of the originals, which meant plenty of the Weddoes’ lightning fast guitar strumming, which is always a wonder to behold, though I do miss the days of Gedge and Pete “Grapper” Solowka egging each other on to go faster still. Pretty much all of George Best was a highlight but while I’ve heard old favourites like “A Million Miles” and “My Favourite Dress” plenty of times before it was the less fêted likes of “Shatner”, “You Can’t Moan Can You” and the utterly brilliant “Anyone Can Make A Mistake” that made my night. Listening to these songs again and its fairly obvious that Gedge is master at what he does. The lyrics – simple thoughts, conversations and observations – fall effortlessly into the melodies with nary an awkward rhyme or poor scan. The songs are genius in their simplicity and in these times where the likes of Alex Turner, Lily Allen and Kate Nash (for fuck’s sake!) are celebrated for their (often extremely dubious) lyrical prowess, one wonders what the reaction to George Best might be had it come out in 2007.

The gig was rounded off with a frantic “Kennedy” and then “Flying Saucer,” by which time Gedge’s voice was close to collapse, as were much of the audience, and they called it a day, leaving us trawling our failing memories for the year that Bizarro was released. And Seamonsters…

The Wedding Present – Shatner

The Wedding Present – Anyone Can Make A Mistake

The Wedding Present – You Can’t Moan Can You?

On a good night, the Arcade Fire live are the sound of unmitigated joy. Last night, the Arcade Fire had a good night. I hate the arena, but for 90 minutes on a gloomy Saturday night, the Arcade Fire made the Manchester Evening News Arena the best venue in Manchester, if not the world. From the opening notes of “Black Mirror,” to the final, electrifying moments of “Wake Up, ” even though the crowd around me were somewhat subdued, we just knew that the Arcade Fire were on form, and it was a form that nobody else on earth can match.

Watching the Arcade Fire when they play like they did last night is one of the biggest pleasures life holds. On stage, they are a wall of energy, spitting all their angst and anger at the world, all their fear and insecurities out through their instruments, but it comes out as celebratory. They seem to need to be on stage, venting through their music, but the smiles on their faces, the energy and the enthusiasm that radiates from the stage could bring a great swell of exultation to anyone.

It only took as much as the second song, “Keep the Car Running,” to get me bouncing, completely enraptured and convinced this would be one of the gigs of 2007. Throughout the gig I was amazed at the lack of cheer radiating from the people around me because the band themselves could not have been any more dedicated and involved in their own performance. Watching them was completely mesmerising. Regine in particular had a giant smile on her face, and she kept coming out towards our side of the stage, smiling, shouting the lyrics and encouraging us to dance.

Certainly one of the highlights of the set included “Haiti” with her vocals, which gets better every time I see it live and had some of the maddest drumming ever to grace a stage. Her Funeral duo of lead vocals bookended a rare outing for “I’m Sleeping In A Submarine” from their debut EP. “In the Backseat,” which we haven’t seen live since 2005, was absolutely flawless and completely mesmerising. She has toned down her self-conscious dancing since we first saw them, and tonight contented herself with the odd arm gesture, waving a tambourine around (when she wasn’t playing one of four or five other instruments or singing), and exhorting the crowd towards where we were standing to sing and clap along, like a tiny ball of candy-coated flame.

She had rivals for her level of energy though as Will Butler was moving around so fast he was practically a blur throughout the gig, whether smashing a drum like his life depended on it, pounding away on the keyboards or holding a guitar. Win Butler, for his part, was singing like he’d die if he didn’t, but in between songs he was chatty and all warm smiles, exuding pleasure at being on stage and grateful to the 14,000 members of the audience for being part of what he said was the Arcade Fire’s biggest indoor gig to date.

After Regine’s chilling moment, “Windowsill” briefly brought the tone back to celebratory, despite its somewhat dark theme. It’s like getting the negatives out is in itself the ultimate expression of hope to this band, and watching them you can’t help but become part of it. “Ocean of Noise” positively gave me chills, and by the time they reached “Tunnels” I think I had reached nirvana, jumping up and down and singing along. “The Well and the Lighthouse” was fantastic but then they did a cover of “Still Ill” in honour of the Smiths inspiring Win Butler, and his health problems over the last year. It was not the best cover version I’ve ever heard, in fact it was slightly shambolic, but you’d be hard pressed to match them for intensity and intent.

The final two tracks of the main set, “Power Out” which segued into “Rebellion (Lies)” prompted some serious dancing as the band looked ready to explode as they thrashed away on their instruments, barely disappearing before the encore of “Intervention” and “Wake Up,” which I still consider the best live song in the history of music – tonight’s rendition not disappointing at all – before disappearing frighteningly early, leaving us panting for more and hoping the next album is not another 2 years away.

I dread arena tours. I dread seeing bands in venues this size and I always worry about the atmosphere and the view. While the crowd were wishy-washy and uninvolved where we were stood, the Arcade Fire are a band that can make up for a lacklustre crowd with their own enjoyment of the performance and this alone carried them through the gig tonight, appreciative and wonderous at their ability to vent their demons through their instruments and come away feeling drunk with the power of their own expression. It is something which only the very hard-hearted could watch and not find moving and uplifting, and it reinforced my assertion that nobody, past or present, can surpass the Arcade Fire on a night like this.

The Arcade Fire – I’m Sleeping in a Submarine
The Arcade Fire – In the Backseat

Video – The Arcade Fire perform “Still Ill” in Manchester

Last night we took ourselves down to see the Wedding Present on their George Best 20th Anniversary tour. Now, I have a funny relationship with the Weddoes. I have seen them live repeatedly and always enjoy the shows, but I never listen to them on CD. So I’m an anomaly in the crowd in that I do genuinely love them, but I don’t know the song titles (with a few obvious exceptions) and I don’t know the words. Not that this has anything to do with anything though.

I tend to like Wedding Present crowds in that they’re all about 10-15 years older than me, they are rabid fans and even though the mosh pit is pretty intense, it’s also pretty friendly. Last night, when my friend and I decided to risk the barrier, we were taking this fact as a given. As always, however, there’s always one (or 2) idiots…. The girl stood to the left of my friend was so drunk before the first of two opening bands even finished that she could barely stand up and was slopping her pint all over herself. Nonetheless she demanded more and off to the bar her suffering boyfriend went. When she demanded another, while clinging onto him for her life, however, swaying and banging into my friend, he finally refused. A fight ensued and she stormed off. He let her go and we ended up getting eased into where she was standing by the crowd. Her boyfriend didn’t make a move to stop it. When she came back about 20 minutes later, still angry and with another drink (how she got served is beyond me), the poor guy ended up having to move back, from his really great spot, to appease her. Frankly, he should have told her to piss off, as there is no excuse for that level of inebriation that early in the night, and there is no excuse for letting your inability to know your limits ruin other people’s night. I can’t imagine she lasted more than 2 songs into the main event.

Naturally, the moment they moved a group of big guys replaced her. We were a bit worried, although I figured they weren’t jostling, so they’d probably be fine, just enthusiastic. And then their single female friend turned up with a bag slung across her front that I swear must have contained a small child it was so large. On top of this monstrosity she’d put her jacket because gosh she couldn’t affect her outfit by tying it around her waist. As The Ledge had abandoned us to chat to some other friends who were a bit farther back, we had no protection between our backs and heads and the world’s largest handbag. The thing is, moshing bodies aren’t so bad. People on the whole don’t want to batter you in a pit and most of the pushing is down to people landing funny and the dancing, not deliberate attempts to injure or remove you. But when you wear a bag while jumping up and down the bag flies upwards and outwards and pretty much batters anyone nearby in a way you falling against them slightly does not. So there we were as the band came on being beaten with a handbag that actually weighed more than I do. Luckily for us, the other physics rule governing handbags in a mosh pit was in our favour – bag on string gets caught between moving bodies and inevitably it goes in one direction while you go in another. So she didn’t last long.

This is where the fun really started though as the band launched into the start-to-finish delivery of George Best: we were suddenly swamped by men, much bigger than us, about as enthusiastic as a crowd gets, and all jumping up and down with gusto. Now, there’s nothing quite like the experience of being in a friendly pit and this was no exception. Hands came round us at the barrier as people tried to stay afloat, apologies and promises to make sure we didn’t fall, giants tapping me on the head to tell me how “hot” the bassist is, blokes screaming the words and punching the air. It hurt like hell but the number of people around me (and it was changing rapidly as everyone fell about) who kept trying to keep me on my feet is one of the things that makes the bad people and idiots at gigs stand out so much. The press during “Kennedy” at the end was possibly the most physically painful thing I’ve ever experienced at a gig (and I can feel it today as I type this, it feels like I’ve been kicked in the chest), but someone had hold of me the whole time, and after the show everybody around us was apologising for pushing and asking if we were ok, which makes a huge difference in the atmosphere and the quality of the whole night. When you’re in a crush by the barrier watching something that unites everybody in the room, why would you be a selfish fucktard when you can spread the good atmosphere by being friendly, aware of others, and part of what’s going on around you, rather than being there in spite of it?

It only takes a little consideration, some kindness to your gig neighbours and the realisation that everybody is there for the same thing to make the difference between a good gig and a bad one, and sets a really good fanbase apart from, well, a fanbase that no band deserves.