Though I knew it not at the time, this would be my last gig for nearly 4 months thanks to a brush with death from my pancreatitis. Oh yes. Shame I had to sign off with a disappointing one. But never mind... Drove Ady and a slightly half-cut Rachel (out on a works "do" this afternoon) to the Zodiac, spending ages trying to park and being delayed to the point that when we hit the venue at 9.10, DOTR were already on!
Paul Vickers, the weird and wonderful mad scientist of post-Beefheart Scottish rock tomfoolery, was in good fooling tonight as ever; if he ever gave up this music malarkey, surely a career in stand up awaits. However, the new material - "Rockerfeller Center" apart - is not a patch on the crazy yet occasionally approaching genius stuff of old, and the new band were messy and disjointed. A funny run-through of country classic "Rhinestone Cowboy" and a welcome oldie, "Cocaine On The Catwalk" as closer, were the best of a disappointing bunch. Home before 11 as well...
No comments:
Post a Comment