527 AMERICAN HI-FI, Crackout, London Camden Underworld, Wednesday 29 August 2001

Back on the gigging trail so soon after Reading Festival! This one was due to be Bowling For Soup up at the Vic in Swindon, but as soon as the Hi-Fi named a follow-up headlining date for their triumphant Reading show, there was really no contest... Rachel was staying in London on a work thing anyway, so I drove up as Swindon Convoy Car 1, hitting Camden at 7.45 and meeting a work-frazzled Rach for a drink in a Camden bar (to the welcome strains of REM's "Disturbance At The Heron House"!), until Swindon Convoy Car 2 arrived.

The "sold out" signs had apparently gone up for this gig, which amazed us all on the strength of a few Radio 1 airplays for single "Flavor Of The Weak", and the dancefloor was already well full when we got in. Hit the bar for a drink, and interrupted the Hi-Fi guys wandering into the venue; good thing not too many people know what they look like at the moment! Introduced Jamie and Drew to the crew, and had a chat with the affable and laid-back Mr. Arentzen before they all disappeared backstage to ready themselves.

Caught a couple of numbers of support act, the painfully young Crackout. They were agitated and speedy, but I largely ignored them and chilled at the bar area, getting psyched up for the Hi-Fi! Wandered down at 9.15 to the crowded dancefloor, determined to be as near the front as possible. I was well up for this one and in a state of high excitement, accompanied by a more circumspect Rach.

The Hi-Fi dashed on at 9.30, guitarred up already as before, and introduced themselves as, "a rock'n'roll band from Boston, Massachusetts." And rock'n'roll they did, bursting into life with "Scar", and sending the packed dancefloor mental. The Hi-Fi formula is simple; catchy hooks and simply constructed pop songs played with balls-out guitar and speed. Kind of an updated Cheap Trick, or a cross between the pop flippancy of the Wannadies and the rockier stylings of Foo Fighters. What sets them apart, however (as always seems to be the case with Boston bands), is their ability to really turn it on "live". Despite a serious guitar lead problem causing Jamie to swap guitars and plugs around with increasing agitation until it got sorted - in the process becoming more animated than I'd ever seen him! - and also causing the Hi-Fi to whack through a couple of numbers sans lead guitar, they sounded brilliant, and played with passion and gusto. "Fuck the USA," Stacy said at one point to a frenzied audience, "you guys are the best!". Get used to it, guys, there's more where that came from!

Encores included a superb and totally appropriate rendition of Redd Kross' classic powerpop toon "Lady In The Front Row", after which Rach and I emerged once again, soaking and elated.

Hung around for awhile afterwards but eventually left before the band emerged as I was soaked and increasingly chilly. Home via Rach's hotel, and in at 1.30, still buzzing from the Hi-Fi!

528 YOU ARE HERE, Phase Rotate, Swindon Victoria, Thursday 13 September 2001

I thought I'd give my new boots a debut rock gig, then nearly regretted it when I had to park in a small space and kept hitting both pedals with my very chunky boot sole! Nevertheless, I sorted it out, and Rachel and I met up with YAH guitarist and good friend Tim in the pub. Chatted while the support band plied their dull AOR sounding trade in the back room. We actually ventured in to check them out for a couple of numbers; and quickly wished we hadn't bothered! However, they were running late which meant You Are Here didn't get onstage until 10.30.

The band, now featuring new bassist Liam, took a couple of numbers to settle back in; "Confidence In You", with its Midway Still-esque stop/start riffery, sounded a little rushed, and they made their usual mess of "Not A Summer Song", Tim this time the culprit with some spectacularly off-key guitar work! However they settled during a fine "Feeling Confused" and delivered a fine sounding and rocking set. The guitar sound dominated the mix and lent a harder edge to their sometimes introspective pop, and new guy Liam is obviously a veteran of this type of thing, relaxed and confident onstage, throwing some quips around between songs and giving a more visual dynamic to this often static band by jumping about and throwing shapes. This even rubbed off on Mark, the normally static vocalist abandoning the mikestand and prowling around the stage staring menacingly at the floor.

Newie "Ordinary Day" was the highlight, perhaps their best song yet, with a more sophisticated, Sebadoh-like construction, and "Trying To Write" the breathless set finale, before encore "Hard To Stop" closed the evening. You Are Here are well warmed up for next week's big Garage show, and on this form should impress. Keep reading...

529 YOU ARE HERE, Isaacs, Redman, London Highbury Garage (Upstairs), Tuesday 25 September 2001

Not working at the moment, so spent the day in London shopping in Camden, before meeting Rachel (who's working up the Smoke this week) and heading over to Highbury Corner for 7, grabbing some dinner at the Old Cock Tavern (a pub I can't go into without thinking about the Gigolo Aunts!) then hitting the venue at 8.15.

Took a seat as the place filled up and Redman opened. They were good; a dynamic young singer reminiscent of Talk Talk's Mark Hollis, and one very good sinewy and spooky number reminiscent of Joy Division. A promising start. You Are Here and the Swindon supporters coach arrived as second band Isaacs were on, boring us all witless with their Oasis impressions (even with a bank of keyboards!).

Swindon's You Are Here - guitarist Tim and vocalist Mark in particular suffering with colds - kicked off at 10.15, rushing through "Confidence In You" and for once playing a good "live" version of "Not A Summer Song"! The sound was a little uneven - the dynamic guitar sound of the last gig was occasionally absent - but overall the boys rose above their illnesses, laughed off their odd errors (a good thing!)and played well on a tight and small stage, which obviously restricted any movements. However, Mark once again let go of the mikestand and the band rocked out, "Ordinary Day" now sounding spot on, and the punky "Trying To Write" finale receiving a huge roar of approval. Good stuff! Then I saw Rach into a cab back to her digs, and joined the YAH coach home!

530 THE SHEILA DIVINE, Lester, De Kreun, Bissegem-Kortrijk, BELGIUM, Friday 12 October 2001

Yup, that's right, Belgium! Our Boston friends The Sheila Divine were attacking the Lowlands, and Rachel and I were up for a piece of that action! So, with the aid of the AA and a superb hired Skoda Octavia to replace our battered Rover which had developed radiator problems the previous night at the thought of going Continental, plus 3 hotel bookings (which turned out to be 4!) and a great big road map, we were away! A re-arranged crossing saw us Sea-Cat over to Ostend the previous day, staying in Ostend (which smells of freshly baked bread and has lots of old baroque churches!) overnight, then moving on to Ghent on the day of the opening gig. Eventually found our hotel after driving (on the wrong side of the road, of course!) down some pretty but confusing roads, spending the rest of the day checking out Ghent and the Castle Of The Counts (ah ha ha!), before heading off early evening after planning our gig beat-route to Bissegem-Kortrijk!

Took a wrong turn off the E-Way, but found the gig nonetheless after asking at a local petrol station. "Straight on - you will not only see De Kreun, you will also feel it!" was the advice. Hmmm! Parked up by the nearby railway station and went into the pub which was attached to the venue. Hit the pool table, then Sheila Divine vocalist Aaron Perrino came wandering through, joining us to hang out, so I introduced him to Rach and we caught up with this softly-spoken and personable chap. He in turn introduced us to a new Sheila - drummer Ryan Dolan, Shawn Sears having left amicably and now managing Merrie Amsterberg. Ryan is a long-time TSD fan from Portland, Maine, so is well chuffed to be drumming for them, even if it means he can't wear his TSD t-shirt out anymore!

Bassist Big Jim Gilbert, our main TSD contact and the man who put us on the guest lists for these shows, joined us. Jim mentioned during an extensive catch-up that The Gravel Pit are "taking a break," well hopefully this means more Gentlemen material instead! We also find out the main reason why The Sheila Divine come over to Belgium so much; the beer!

We wander into the venue - a big back hall resembling an old barn, no less - to catch some of local support band Lester. They play a trad rock set which doesn't really inspire overall, but has some nice touches a la Daryll Ann, another band from the Low Countries. However, Rach and I decide to wander back into the pub for a drink, there being no bar in the back room, and run into the 4th Sheila, guitarist Colin Decker, and old friend of new drummer Ryan, who tells us TSD are due on at 9.30.

By now the venue is really full, so we head back in at the end of Lester's set and take our places - stage centre, down the front! The sense of anticipation is pretty high, particularly with Rach, who's not yet seen this lot, and it's heightened by Jim mentioning they're going to try 4 or 5 new songs on us.

After tuning up, The Sheilas kick off their set at 9.45, with a moody new song, "Calling All Lovers", which follows the usual TSD recipe of building to a spine-tingling crescendo before releasing it all in one "pop". However, "Sideways" and "Every Year", the strident and thrilling duo from recent album "Where Have My Countrymen Gone?" really kick-start things, and get Rach and I rocking for all we're worth. After that, it's superb all the way; a brilliantly paced, light and shade coloured set of this unique heart-crackingly emotive band's work. From "Countrymen", which builds and simmers like a pot coming to the boil, then overflows with the huge hook, through "Like A Criminal", with its' dramatic slashes of guitar and thrilling, "rock you, yeah yeah yeah!" finale, to "Wanting Is Wasted", where Aaron out-Mac's Ian McCulloch for downright vocal surliness, this lot have all bases covered. But it's a couple of newies which win through for me; "We All Have Problems", as straightforward a rocker as they've written, and dramatic finale "Running With The Devil", which I believe was called "Kiss Army" at their CD release shows earlier this year, during which Aaron eschews the usual stationary cool persona, and throws a wobbler, shuffling across the stage like a demented crab, wrestling the mikestand and screaming for all he's worth; "Back To The Cradle", indeed!

Elated and sweaty, and swept up in the tide of emotion this band generates, we take some time to gather our thoughts afterwards. Catch Jim after, who gives us free t-shirts (good thing too, as ours are soaked!), and to and about whom I remark, "looks of Andy Partridge, moves of Adam Clayton!" despite the fact that onstage in his green shirt, he looked like EdV tonight... We chat to the rest of the boys afterwards, particularly Ryan, who turns out to be another old fan of Big Dipper, Dumptruck and the like. We're also introduced to Jim's Belgian friends Geno and Helga, who are responsible for getting TSD over to Belgium in the first place! Then photos and final thanks before leaving, grabbing bratwurst and chips from a kiosk by the level crossing, and driving back to Ghent. No trouble at all this time!

531 "ROCK TERNAT", Saturday 13 October 2001

Day 3 of Belgium, and this one's all about Rock Ternat! We packed up and left our hotel in Ghent, then zoomed along the E40 to Ternat, finding the Festival site 3 hours too early, so killed time by visiting Ikea! Returned to the site, parking the car on the road verge then wandered down a dirt track to the collection of fenced-off small fields and big tents that comprise Rock Ternat, an annual festival with a 4-5,000 capacity. Picked up free passes at the gate, big Jim coming through for us again, then after gaining entrance at 2.45, we got the beers in to watch the first band! This is YUM, whom we watch down the front in the single big band tent; they're a good start, all rhythmic and unorthodox, similar to Darkstar, but occasionally rocking in a haunting, Gothy manner. Also, their vocalist has good taste in red velvet shirts and knows how to hold a tune - he sang in English and introduced the songs in Flemish, however, which has to be confusing, or so I thought until meeting him afterwards and finding out he was half Canadian, half Dutch! Good band, though, so we buy merch.

BASTION are next up; they're unfortunately the kind of Euro disco pop bollocks that got Euro disco pop bollocks a bad name! There's 10 of them onstage and they're all shit! So we wandered around the festival site and caught the sun, killing time before the main dish of the day.

THE SHEILA DIVINE are up next, just after 5pm, and by now there's a hard core of fans down the front - including us! Once again, they open with newie "Calling All Lovers", which calls for a stellar performance from guitarist Colin Decker - and gets it! The slow-burn of "Opportune Moment", which builds like pressure then erupts in a joyous, "it's my life!" hook, follows, giving Aaron ample opportunity to exercise those gymnastic tonsils of his. Once again, the man hits every note he's called upon to hit, be it at angelic schoolboy pitch, or at a screech like a scalded badger. "Countrymen" is a particular tour de force, calling for a choral falsetto which he nails - every time!

By now, we're surrounded by a manic moshpit, and crowdsurfers - yup, Sheila Divine crowdsurfers! So much for Rachel's idea that it'd be calmer down the front today than at De Kreun last night! Also, we're being regaled with an insistent chant from the Belgian TSD massive of, "we want "Hum"," egged on in no small part by big Jim Gilbert! So the boys abandon the set order, and the familiar opening bassline is met with a rapturous ovation, as "Hum" is let loose by the Sheilas. The band lap this reception up, especially Jim, whose huge frame and extravagant gestures are totally accentuated by the big stage he's allowed to let rip on today! "Automatic Buffalo" closes the set, but the boys are ushered back on again for one final number, which fittingly is the tense, raucous "Running With The Devil", with its increasingly familiar hook, "back to the cradle," which preceded, once again, another flip-out from Aaron, his face red and pulsing with passion. Again, breathtaking and superb!

That's what we were here for! So we emerged from the front, totally sweaty, and grabbed some eats before next band MAURO. They featured a floppy fringed Jonathan Ross lookalike with a silly pencil moustache on vocals, but peddle very trad 70's AOR, like the Stones after they'd gotten too old and boring. Needless to say, we don't stick around for long but head for the bar tent instead. Back in to check out next band STARFLAM, who were an even worse idea - a French rap act which was as bad as it sounds. You couldn't fault the eclecticism of this bill, but one wondered why; after all, everyone (except us, so it seemed) was primarily here for the Sisters Of Mercy!

We ran into Belgian TSD friends Geno and Helga, who were just heading home at this point; not a bad idea as it turned out! We'd resolved however to stay to hear THE SISTERS OF MERCY, partly because they were the only other band on the bill that we'd heard of! However, they came onstage swathed in so much dry ice you'd be forgiven for thinking there was a fire, and worse, they had no "live" drummer, instead employing a very loud drum machine which suffocated all the other sounds and rendered the Sisters songs, often haunting and powerful, instead turgid and impotent. Even the sinister power of "Temple Of Love" was wiped away by the swathes of drum machine, and we could hardly see the strutting and preening Andrew Eldrich through the smoke. So we left.

That was nowhere near the end of the night, however! First we had to contend with a double-parking-mare, then an event photographer - who'd recognised us as, "the English fans following The Sheila Divine around Belgium," from our car's UK plates, although we'd never seen or met him before! - kindly directed us to Brussels, whence we spent ages driving frustratedly around the one-way system before finally finding and parking near our hotel - at midnight! However, it was too noisy to sleep, thanks to a bar opposite our hotel, so we went out to drink ourselves asleep with Belgian beer. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em!

532 THE SHEILA DIVINE, Lester, Club 9, Koersel, Belgium, Sunday 14 October 2001

Day 4 of Belgium; awoke thick-headed and almost late for breakfast, then headed out of the crowded and dirty Brussels city centre for a day out at the Atomium and Mini-Europe! Back early afternoon, then "checked out" of our hotel without checking out- we've got another night left but we're not planning on returning if we can possibly help it! Headed off to the North of the country getting off the E-Way at 6ish and driving around trying to find either a hotel, or the gig, or both! Eventually we stopped in a pub, where a kindly patron drew us a map to both! So, we located the venue - down an alleyway off the main drag, next to a kebab shop! - then found the suggested hotel, a rather sumptuous looking but competitively priced country house! Result!

Had a little rest before changing and heading off to the venue. Bumped into Jim in the lobby of this youth club type building, in the corner of a large car park. Jim's selling TSD merch from a large sofa, so we joined him for a chinwag as he greeted a lot of people arriving for the gig. Not a surprise really, as this is the 8th time The Sheila Divine have been to Belgium! Ryan passes through as Lester kick off their set. Once again they sound unobtrusive, occasionally nice and pastoral in a Daryll-Ann manner, but don't tempt us off the sofa, particularly as Jim ran off at one point and left us in charge of the merch!

Eventually we wandered in as The Sheila Divine are setting up and turning up. Once again they're straight into their set, no nonsense, with "Calling All Lovers", followed by "Every Year", a personal favourite sadly omitted from the Rock Ternat set. Once again with a bit of elbow, knee and leg room, Rachel and I take our last chance to dance with both hands, rocking out in extremis, showing these Belgians how to dance madly! As for TSD - well, what can I say about these boys? The Music - soaring, majestic, emotive rock that builds and then releases the tension in joyous measure, similar to the heroism of early U2, the thrust and sensitivity of Buffalo Tom and the melancholic plangent cool of the Kitchens Of Distinction, but alone and unique. The performance - Jim all angles and extravagant hand gestures, Pete Townshend meets Adam Clayton; Ryan laid back and cool, applauding his own band during song breaks, so obviously a fan and loving it up there; Colin all effort-led facial expressions and doubled-over shapes; and Aaron, immobile, varying between the white faced angelic voice and the red-faced angry howl to the heavens. What else to say? I think I've said it all; quite quite brilliant!

"We All Have Problems" is once again superb, Aaron bellowing at a statue of David that a Belgian fan has inexplicably put onstage, but my own favourite was "I'm A Believer", asked for in tonight's set, and got! This requires the full throttle scream all the way from Aaron, and he sensibly comes down an octave once or twice, without the song losing any of its potency. The final encore, again "Running With The Devil" kicks up the noise and fuss before "Automatic Buffalo", fittingly the last song we hear from The Sheila Divine in Belgium, calms it all with heart-wrenching emotion and cool.

This is our last night - tomorrow's just about travelling home via Bruges for some sightseeing - so we stick around to catch our breath afterwards. I grab a poster and get the boys to sign it as our official tour souvenir, before the Belgian hosts usher The Sheila Divine into an interview in the (rather foul smelling and extremely cerise-coloured!) girls toilets! Nevertheless, we stick around, determined to wring every last drop out of this one, and we're rewarded as Jim emerges and ushers us to the private bar, where much after-hours drinking is going on and Ryan is acting as barman! We chat for ages, mainly to Jim and Ryan, before reluctantly (and extremely tiredly!) saying our final farewells to the Sheila Divine. 3 brilliant shows and on the guest list for them all - boys, you really did us proud!

533 MY VITRIOL, SEAFOOD, Queen Adreena, Bristol University Anson Rooms, Friday 26 October 2001

Back to the old UK gig trail! And not a bad one in prospect either; we were humming and hahhing about this one before Seafood were announced as My Vitriol tour support, and when they were, we couldn't get tickets quickly enough! So, my turn to drive to Brizzle; we picked up Dave and new girlfriend Ceri, then got Ady and hit the road, getting a good parking spot (for once!) near the Uni.

Got the beers in and wandered into the then-sparsely populated hall for opening act Queen Adreena, a new band on me, but one featuring former Daisy Chainsaw vocalist Katie Jane Garside. She came on to little fanfare and intoned some low-key screeching number which was followed up by some clumsy, gothy malarkey. Didn't like Daisy Chainsaw either, and saw nowt to change my mind about her new charges, so we hit the bar again before the real catch of the day.

Seafood were late on - 9pm - but after a cacophonous bout of white noise riffery to introduce themselves, David stepped up to sing, "there's a house on a lake," the opening line to their cataclysmic finest moment, "Porchlight". What a way to start, I thought as I piled into the mosh. Little did I know... "Porchlight" was as powerful, insistent and edgy as ever, its' quiet mid-section blending into the cathartic climax perfectly, as usual. "Cloaking" up next, the angry, passionate, "get up, get up, get up, get up soldier," hook being met with a crazed response from the moshpit. "Western Battle" and splendidly spooky new single "Splinter" followed, both crashing, splendid and breathless. then...

"This is our last number; you're just getting a taste of Seafood tonight," explained David. Five songs - 5 bloody songs??? Crappity crap! However, we couldn't really argue with the final number; the 8-9 minute sleazy indulgence of noise and fire that is "Folk Song Crisis", merciless and manic, with a white noise mid-section to rival Bob Mould, and the screaming cacophonous climax seeing David screaming, crouched, with rage, and Kevin coaxing every ounce of feedback from the combination of bass, monitor and mike-stand. I think the wretched town fell!

So Rach and I emerged, sweaty and unbowed from the mosh, yet a little perturbed about the shortness of the set. Still, we met our gig buddies and grabbed some air and fluid before heading back in for headliners My Vitriol. They came on to white noise and smoke, and kicked into their slightly late 80's style blend of spiky rock and ethereal mood music. After the blown-out dynamics of Seafood however, this seemed a little flat and took some time to get going, "Cemented Shoes" a notable early exception, at which point I joined the jumping section of this by-now full crowd.

We stayed in the mosh for easily their 2 best numbers - the Husker Du-esque primal howl of "Losing Touch" and the hookier amphetamine rush of "Always; Your Way", but by now I was tired of punters landing on my head, so took off. Good for My Vitriol that they've taken a step up, but they should really write more songs like those 2, and tonight Seafood blew them away, no contest!

Afterwards, we bumped into - inevitably - Kev Seafood, who'd understood my gestures to him onstage and had saved me their set-list - for what it was worth!

534 MERCURY REV, Nicolai Dunger, Bristol University Anson Rooms, Wednesday 31 October 2001

What could be more fitting on Halloween night than to go off and see the world's spookiest purveyors of mood music, the creepy Catskill chappies, Mercury Rev? So off we did hop with Dave, Ady and Ceri for another night out at the Anson Rooms. Much to the girls' delight, we didn't park the car over by the cemetery, however we did have to park up about 15 minutes walk from the venue - this place is becoming a real car-mare!

Got in at 8.15, just as Nicolai Dunger was peddling his acoustic strum-along stuff onstage. Decided to go to the bar instead! Wandered back into the amply packed hall for the arrival for the Rev at 9. They wandered on at the witching hour, dressed appropriately in black, with one of the keyboard players caped up and bearing a large witches hat! Jonathan Donahue, pencil-thin and strikingly cool as ever, was nevertheless more voluble than before, a, "hello, it's great to be here tonight," a real surprise!

Opening with the slow burn of "The Funny Bird", the Rev immediately hit their groove of moody, magnificently spooky, hairs-standing-up-on-nape-of-neck music. Obviously slightly rockier and more upfront than their orchestral leanings on record, when they really hit it, as in the mesmeric "Frittering", the touching "Goddess On A Hiway" and the almost jaunty "Nite And Fog", they were stunning. However, their shimmering splendour occasionally drifted into slight discordance and very occasional self-indulgence, as in the overlong and over-complicated "Opus 40" or a messy "Delta Sun". However, the supreme encore "Chasing A Bee", with its slow burn and soaring keyboards, really won the day for me, and the magnificent "Dark Is Rising", with its clattering crescendo and touching Neil Young-esque vocals from Donahue, ensured the final memories of the evening were nothing but positive. So, the Rev; touching the face of plangent magnificence when "on it" during this set, but this 2 hour overall performance would have been so much better as just over 1!

535 DEAD MEN WALKING, Swindon Arts Centre, Thursday 8 November 2001

A bit of an odd one, this; an acoustic evening from a few old punkers, including an old rock hero of mine whom I'm ashamed to say I'd never seen play "live" before, one Pete Wylie of Wah! So I talked similar old punker Rich and our respective better halves into wandering up the hill on an icy evening for this one.

No sooner had we got there than the performance started, at an early 20 to 8! So we took our seats to the back of this small theatre - the first time I'd ever been to the Arts Centre, oddly enough! - for an intriguing evening's entertainment. The Dead Men - Wylie, Mike Peters of the Alarm, Spear Of Destiny's Kirk Brandon and former Sex Pistol bassist Glen Matlock - all played together, linking well acoustically on a selection of their old favourites and better known songs. Brandon's voice was as powerful and enduring as ever, particularly on "Do You Believe In The Westworld?", and Mike Peters is still a surprisingly good performer, particularly leading the sell-out older crowd through rousing renditions of Alarm hits "68 Guns" and a surprisingly affecting "Spirit Of '76", dedicated to, "all the old punks who still have it in their heart and soul." That'd be us then!

But for me it was Wylie who was the star; Wylie the effervescent Scouser, corpulent yet unabashed, fending off hecklers and bantering with the crowd and bandmates with equal volubleness and good humour. A surprisingly punky "Seven Minutes To Midnight" preceded the interval, during which I got to shake the man's hand and talk, just after he wrestled me and attempted to stab me with a pen, shouting, "imposter in the house!" just because I was wearing a Julian Cope t-shirt! Lovely! His second half songs "Come Back" and "Story Of The Blues" also brought a chill to my spine, as did his dedication to George Harrison, and his exhortation to fight for what you believe in. We did, Pete, we did.

A splendid "Blitzkrieg Bop" encore capped an intriguing and entertaining evening from 4 performers who may be knocking on in years, but still have the talent - and the gift of the gab, if your name is Pete Wylie!

536 AMERICAN HI-FI, Hell Is For Heroes, Bristol Fleece, Wednesday 14 November 2001

Got tickets for this one on an "adventure" jaunt to Bristol's Area 51 comic shop, and Rachel and I drove down with friends. I was feeling a little unwell as we drove down, but hey, what the hell, it's the Hi-Fi! Kill or cure! Got there just before doors to be surprised by 2 things; a huge crowd (if this wasn't a sell-out, it was pretty close), and a huge tour bus, quite the largest I'd seen in some time. There appears to be some serious money backing the Hi-Fi, no doubt!

Took a wander into the pub next door whilst the crowd outside froze their buttocks waiting for the venue to open, and, after having imbibed, we walked straight in 20 minutes later! Support Hell Is For Heroes came on at 9, and the best thing you could say about their set is that it was mercifully short. Another shouty angry young Nu-Metal band with not a sniff of a tune whatsoever. I dunno, I might be getting old or something, but I really am finding it hard to a) find any artistic value in this neurotic shouty mess, and b) tell one such band from another! Anyway, after their set Rach and I had a wander down the front, stage left, Jamie's side, spotting the holes in the crowd to exploit and really hit right down the front for when the Hi-Fi hit the stage.

American Hi-Fi kept us waiting until 10 past 10 - t'uh, what prima donnas! - but then bounded onstage, already guitarred up, with their usual Monkees-esque enthusiasm and vigour. After the usual, "hi, we're American Hi-Fi and we're a rock'n'roll band from Boston, Massachusetts," (slightly inaccurate of course, as we know Jamie lives in Cambridge!), they power-chorded into opener "Scar", by which time Rach and I were right down the front. By halfway through the opener, both Jamie and Stacy had noticed us in the frantically moshing throng and given us "thumbs up" signs. Cool!

The Hi-Fi have been on the road pretty much all year, in the UK and US, so you'd think by now they'd be a polished, professional and slightly sanitised live act. Not so - tonight they were thrashy, unhinged, and tore into their set with vim and venom, showing scant regard for the safety of their songs. Good thing the songs in question are robust power-chorded powerpop epics, with the "Handle With Care" labels long since faded, as they actually benefitted from this rough treatment. Jamie, with a guitar that actually worked tonight, was a thrash-punk guitarist par excellence, and Stacy the buzz-sawing, leaping lunatic frontman superhero. Highlights were "Hi-Fi Killer", a touching "Another Perfect Day", and a rampant "Flavor Of The Weak", sung word-for-word by the enthusiastic young moshpit.

A great show! And good to catch up with the boys afterwards, as we chatted with Drew, Jamie and Stacy outside their gargantuan tour bus. "I'm playing rock'n'roll with my best friends, what could be better than that?" said Jamie. A fitting conclusion!

537 CLEARLAKE, The 45's, Bristol Louisiana, Friday 23 November 2001

Rachel was on a girls night out, so I decided to pop down to the Louisiana with Beef instead of a trip out on the town myself! Parked the car outside the venue and went inside to meet up with a friend of Beef's who gave us both Clearlake CDs! Cool!

Popped upstairs to the unusually packed venue and got the drinks in. Support The 45's were a new young band with a 60's push'n'shove modish feel to their music, kind of like a snappier You Am I or Farrah. I liked them, apart from some occasional obvious attempts to sound like The Strokes. Guys, you don't really need to!

Popped down the front to get choked by the unnecessary dry ice which heralded the entrance of Clearlake at 10. A very idiosyncratically British sounding band, their CD "Lido" had a cinematic, 60's spy movie feel to it, like early Pulp or Scott Walker, and this carried across to their live performance. However, Clearlake took this opportunity to debut some new songs, which had an extra edge and dynamism to them, particularly the spooky "We All Die Alone", which reminded me of Martha And The Muffins' new wave classic "Echo Beach" in parts. So despite the occasional technical hitches and lapses, Clearlake, erm, "rocked", with "Winterlight" and the touching ditty "Jumble Sailing" my particular favourites.

And we popped backstage too, for set-list signings and a brief chat, before hitting the road and home!

538 ASH, SEAFOOD, Bristol Academy, Monday 3 December 2001

Straight out of hospital after my gall bladder operation; and straight out on the gigging trail again! So, with a gut-full of stitches but feeling fine apart from that, Rachel and I hit the road fairly early to ensure we could get a decent spot at this sold-out gig.

A new venue for me, this, but it's situated on the ground floor of the site of the former Studio, so we knew how to get there, and parked up in the multi-storey. Got in early doors and found a good spot on the bar balcony of this venue, which was similar in layout to the Astoria but smaller than I expected, with similar decor to the Hackney Ocean. We ran - inevitably - into Kev and David Seafood before their set; running off to the toilets as there were apparently no facilities backstage! Happy to take a watching brief for their set, as the dancefloor was already stuffed, and it might be a bit hard on my stitches!

Seafood were on at 8, and kicked off with "Cloaking", their thrillingly spiky and spooky recent single, David already on great gut-wrenching screaming form during the strident chorus. The cacophonous thrill of "Guntrip" was next up, Seafood on top form "live" but having little or no effect on this strangely motionless audience! Ash gave them a 45 minute support slot, so thankfully they were able to play more than 5 songs this time (which was their lot for the recent My Vitriol support!) and could introduce some light and shade into this well-paced set, with a couple of the slower, more introspective numbers from the current "When Do We Start Fighting" album. However, the finale as ever was "Folk Song Crisis", which David dedicated to Bristol - I confess I didn't get why at first, and bemoaned the fact that Bristol "didn't deserve" such a great song being dedicated to it, on the strength of tonight's audience. However, after the white noise mid-section gradually maneuvered into the dynamic closing chant of "I hope the wretched town will fall", suddenly it all fell into place. Certainly there was an extra edge and venom to David's prolonged screams of the hook!

Ash came on at 9.15 prompt to a rapturous welcome, and the place went nuts. T'uh, the kids only had eyes for Ash! Following a thrashy pop opener, they went straight into "A Life Less Ordinary", for me the best thing they've done by miles, ref. An amphetamine-fast version of that was followed by "Angel Interceptor", their Ramones-ish early single, and "Goldfinger", as big and bouncy as ever.

For me the set sagged a little after that, and became a bit to samey and one-dimensional, but they got it back towards the end with some prime cuts from their recent "Free All Angels" CD, bursting with surf-pop-punk life. A surprising "Uncle Pat" encore before the inevitable "Jack Names The Planets" sent everyone home happy, but for me this Bristolian crowd had ignored the best set of the day earlier on, Seafood once again proving they're the best of British right now by some distance!

Had a quick chat with da' Food's Kev and Caroline - over the balcony, as some fascist security guard wouldn't let us get on the dancefloor after Ash's set - before hitting the road. Nice place, crap clientele, overzealous bouncers but 1 1/2 fine sets - overall not a bad part of my recuperation!

539 SEAFOOD, Ikara Colt, Fat Truckers, London Camden Underworld, Wednesday 12 December 2001

With the promise of a guest list slot for this one and with Rachel in London on business anyway, I decided to make a day of it! So I got the train early and spent the day hitting comic shops around the capital, filling some holes in my collection! Met Rachel after her business meeting and subsequent trip to an amusement arcade with her boss (!), and got drinks in the World's End before queueing up to get in, interminably, or so it seemed. Worse was to come when we had to contend with self-important security staff (again!), and then found out we weren't on the guest list after all! D'oh! Grabbed a couple of tickets at the ticket office and got in, unexpectedly £16 lighter. D'oh! Again!

Ran into Seafood bassist Kevin early on in this awfully shaped venue, and he confirmed he'd asked his manager to put us on the list, but we'd fallen off somewhere. D'oh! Yet again! Nevertheless, we were in, and Kev was unexpectedly proud of the fact that tonight da 'Food were to become my most-seen "live" band. Bless!

However, we had a couple of supports to deal with first. Fat Truckers were terrible - monotonous and repetitive keyboard-led Krautrock - but Ikara Colt more than made up for it. Itchy, tense and agitated, they once again came across like a mutant blend of The Fall and Sonic Youth, all squally guitars, speedy and sinister songs, all delivered with the ferocious vocal ranting of a singer (?) who'd evidently spent a lot of time listening to Mark E Smith during his formative years. Add to that a drummer who was quite the most octopus-like and energetic we'd seen since Pete Caldes of The Gravel Pit (although Rachel correctly pointed out that he actually resembled the Pit's Lucky Jackson!) and one great song in "Sink Venice", and you've got the perfect starter for the Seafood main course!

A course for which, of course (!), we were down the front! Seafood came on at 10.15, announced by XFM's rather annoying MC, and honked straight into "Cloaking" and "Western Battle", the dynamic opening double salvo from their excellent current CD. Then a punked-up "Guntrip" and "This Is Not An Exit" from their first CD followed. As ever, they were spiky, dynamic, well-rocking and excellent "live", and worthy recipients of my "most seen band" status. Another great Seafood set, confirming my long-held status that they're the best British band currently making music, which we experienced from the front, being buffeted left and right between Kev and vocalist David's monitors. Unfortunately this was also a set which we had to truncate due to our train, so after a superb "Porchlight" and new single "Splinter", we bid adieu and Merry Christmas to the onstage rabble, pausing in our exit to briefly chat with the Ikara Colt vocalist who confirmed my Mark E Smith suspicions. Onto the last train with 5 minutes to spare. A fine way to end 2001's gig year!

540 THE MILES HUNT CLUB, The Last Taxi, Gloucester Guildhall Arts Centre, Saturday 12 January 2002

We were all set to pick our friends Jared and Nina up, which we did, then drive to Gloucester, which we didn't! We got as far as Cirencester when the temperature gauge went off the scale, and despite remedial action it didn't improve, so we drove back and dropped it off - after a few more mishaps - at Jared's, then he zoomed along to the gig in his company car, taking all of 1/2 hour!

Got to this old Arts Centre in the middle of Gloucester just as the support band took the stage. They weren't very good, dancey retro stuff really, so we hit the bar! Also met and had a brief chat with Russ Hunt, Miles' brother and guitar roadie, who remembered me, "through the beer haze," from the Tracey Bonham gig at the Birmingham Foundry back in 1996, when Phil Hurley had introduced us. He also remarked on my old school Gigolo Aunts t-shirt!

Back into the school hall type venue for Miles' new band. He was drinking in the bar beforehand, and the haircut, which looked a little silly in the classified photo, actually suited him, giving him a more mature look. This was also in evidence in the material tonight, which whilst retaining the instant hooky catchiness of the Wonder Stuff, was also more sophisticated. Miles was, as ever, the entertaining raconteur, and the couple of familiar tracks from last year's acoustic "Hairy On The Inside" CD were given a welcome toughening up. I enjoyed it immensely, and old Stuffies fan Rachel was positively salivating!

Hung out afterwards for a few minutes, meeting New Jersey resident and friend of Kevin Smith, Miles' excellent guitarist Michael Florentino. Apparently his sister played Jay's mother in the "baby" scenes of "Jay And Silent Bob Strike Back". Cool! Unfortunately we hit the road to relieve Jared's babysitters, before meeting up with Miles again, however this was a good start to (hopefully) another busy year of gigs!

541 JIMMY EAT WORLD, SEAFOOD, London WC2 Astoria, Friday 25 January 2002

A rare gig where we took the train, as the old motor was still in the garage! So we got the 6 pm to London amidst all the rainclouds and gloomy weather. Hit the Astoria at 7.30 sharp, only to find queues reaching all around the block! Eventually got in, after 20 minutes wait under a heavy and foreboding sky, but barely had time to get our bearings before da Food came on, just before 8 pm!

So, Rachel and I piled into the moshpit for their opener, the acerbic "Western Battle", with David as ever yelping like a scalded cat. The amphetamine rush of "Guntrip" was up next, with the boys (and girl) struggling manfully with the poor sound quality but still giving a performance of tension and energy.

"Are you ready for Jimmy?" asked David before an impromptu acoustic version of the first verse of "Salt Sweat Sugar", which drove the very young Emo kids wild - a shame that they didn't react to da 'Food's own stuff in such an enthusiastic way! "Folk Song Crisis", with the white noise interlude evoking memories of Bob Mould's similar wig-out on that very stage some 13 years ago, capped an indifferent-sounding but as ever dynamic and energetic set.

Nipped up to the balcony for Jimmy Eat World's set, as the dancefloor was heaving! The Phoenix, AZ. boys came on promptly at 9 pm, no fuss, and hooked straight into the punkish rush of "Salt Sweat Sugar", the excellent insistent single from last year, with the most dynamic middle eight of any 2001 song. An equally good "A Praise Chorus" followed to rapturous applause, and at this point you got the feeling that this was no ordinary gig, but a real defining event. However, I have to report that the gig drifted for me a little after that, with the boys delving into the more angular, difficult and edgy post-grunge of their previous 2 albums, rather than the instantly catchy emotive pop-punk of their current incarnation. I took a wander as well, bumping (predictably) into Kevin Seafood and (not so predictably!) Som from My Vitriol!

JEW ended their set with an unfamiliar yet more straightforward punky number, then encored with "The Middle", Jim Adkins exhorting the crowd to, "like this one because you like it," and the brilliant "Sweetness", with its' "Velvet Roof"-esque rhythmic base and excellent running hook. So, first and last the best for me, but a set full of promise for greater things! And an early gig too - off at 10.15, bumping into old sparring partner Jim Morrison (Carter USM/ Jamie Wednesday) and his daughter Holly on the way out of the venue, and on the 11.00 train home! With KFC too!

542 BILL JANOVITZ, Stephen Hero, London Camden Dingwalls, Monday 28 January 2002

Rachel and I were part 1 of a 2 car posse up to London for this one, setting off later at 6.15, but still parking up in Camden at 8.30 and into the venue straight afterwards. And we popped straight to the backstage door where I used the name of our mutual friend, The Gravel Pit's Ed Valauskas, to get Bill out to say "hi" to us. Surprisingly, he remembered me from our Q Division meeting in Boston, back in August 1999, and was happy to chat!

Took a viewing point from the ramp by the side of the stage for Stephen Hero, aka former Kitchens Of Distinction frontman Patrick Fitzgerald. His new numbers, stripped back to either voice/ acoustic guitar only, or voice/ keyboards only, retained the shimmering emotion of KOD's work, and Patrick still has the melancholic longing in his voice. Good thing too - we can't afford to lose such emotive vocalists!

Our Car 2 members turned up halfway through the set, having lost their way, and this gave me an opportunity to introduce a passing Bill Janovitz to a surprised - but quickly composed - Tim! Bill himself came onstage at 9.15, one man and his guitar only, and straight into "Mineral" from 1992's "Let Me Come Over" album. A chilling rendition ended on a slightly incongruous note, as the "you're so green" hookline melded into "it's not easy being green", the Kermit The Frog song! Nevertheless, Bill made it work! After a second, new, number, Bill announced that "one new one following one old one" was the agenda for the night, which suited us fine! Predictably, the Buffalo Tom numbers received the most welcome receptions, particularly an unannounced "I'm Allowed", and the mesmeric set closer "Larry", which stripped back to just Bill's rough, dynamic voice and battered acoustic, set the hairs on my neck on end. However, the new numbers were excellent, emotive and slightly folky, which bodes well for the solo record!

An excellent set, punctuated by Bill's friendly, down to earth banter, was topped by a stunning "Taillights Fade" and a raucous newie "Long Island", which got everybody singing the hook, like an old sea shanty. A messy, slightly off-key "Wiser" - "one song too long," according to Bill - was an inappropriate end to an otherwise consummate and superb set. And after a long wait (during which Bill ran out of CD's for sale - bah!), he signed my set list! Cool - certainly worth the coughing fit I endured on leaving the venue!

543 ASH, Hundred Reasons, Swindon Oasis, Sunday 3 February 2002

A rare "big gig" in Swindon turned out to be quite an eventful evening! Met up with the guys in O'Neills, then took a wander under the subway to the Oasis. Strange to go to a gig here again - and a sell-out, this time! Grabbed one of the last available lockers to cram our coats into, then wandered into the hall for Hundred Reasons. They played a varied set, ranging from lumpy nu-metal to punk-oriented rock, but lacking in tunes; only 3 numbers, including recent single "I'll Find You" had any discernable trace of a tune! However, there was an ever-expanding moshpit throughout and I have to say the kids loved Hundred Reasons, going down as well as any support band I've ever seen!

Failed to get near the bar during the interval, so wandered nearer the front of the stage for Ash's entrance, just after 9. Rachel and I joined the surge towards the stage as they kicked off with "A Life Less Ordinary", still my favourite Ash number! The surf-punk groove of "Angel Interceptor" was up next, by which time we were gleefully participating in a large moshpit, and despite my cold I was holding up pretty well!

Ash played a well-chosen set, with a host of "Free All Angels" tracks interspersed with earlier singles, a double-header of the breathless "Kung Fu" and "Girl From Mars" being most notable. "You don't get much rock'n'roll in Swindon, do you?" asked Tim Wheeler, and proceeded to deliver Ash's own hard-edged but melodic sing-along punky pop version of the rock.

But then the fun started, as it were. Towards the end of the set, a crowdsurfer landed squarely on Rachel's head, and I hauled her out of the mosh, helped in no small measure by an old school acquaintance Mike Bolton, who just happened to be next to us in the mosh! After a suitable respite, we headed back in for the rest of the set, then the inevitable encores. Then, during Ash's encore of "Uncle Pat", the steward down the front took exception, for some reason, to my asking for a drink of water by throwing it in my face! This dislodged one of my contact lenses, so I screamed abuse at the guy and scooted off to try and find a mirror to replace it. The steward followed me, interrupted and eyeballed me, screaming abuse back, at which point I decided enough was enough. I found a security guard in the hallway and, after Rach did a sterling job calming me down, explained what had happened. He pointed me in the direction of the Promoter, who I met up with after the show. He was very sympathetic and offered me £25 to compensate our missing Ash's encores, free tickets to any show he's promoting in the area in future, plus backstage party passes!

Shame the backstage party turned out to be a damp squib - no drinks, and the band, tall guitarist Mark notwithstanding, stayed firmly in their dressing room - but even so, this rescued a bad situation for us. So anyway Ash; most enjoyable (while I could enjoy it, that was!) and, despite not being as good as the recent Bristol show, a suitable kick-start to hopefully more gigs at the Oasis. I'd be happy though if they were less eventful than this one!

544 NME Carling Awards Tour 2002, featuring ANDREW WK, Lostprophets, BLACK REBEL MOTORCYCLE CLUB, The Coral, Bristol University Anson Rooms, Saturday

A trip to Bristol in the pissing rain to see 4 fairly intense new bands is not normally the kind of thing I'd like to do when recovering from a stinking cold. However, we had tix sorted for this sold-out NME tour show, so Rachel drove - thankfully! Got there well early - 6.30! - in order to get a parking spot at this impossible-to-park-at venue. Grabbed a drink in a pub beforehand as we didn't want to queue in the rain, so by the time we got in - 7.20 - The Coral were already onstage.

I was intrigued about this lot of painfully young Scousers, thinking they might either be the reincarnation of Echo And The Bunnymen, or a waste of space bunch of post-Oasis chancers with not a tune in their heads to rub together to make fire. Thankfully, they were neither, but leaned toward the former, turning out to play an intriguing mix of Bunny-style spaced out rock (with one number, "Goodbye", very Bunnyesque!), ramshackle Men They Couldn't Hang punky folk, a dash of Ukrainian folk music and many intriguing and inventive changes of pace and mood. With a tension and attitude thrown in for good measure, they could be one to watch. Certainly Rach thought they might be the new Crocketts...

Got a cider in before catching the Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, next up at 8. They really came through for me "live" in a way their more introspective debut CD has yet to do. A classic blend of a black clad trio playing scuzzy rock'n'roll through swathes of dry ice and moodiness, which really appealed to my Bunnymen/JAMC/PFurs sense of history. Opener "Red Eyes And Tears", with its' Bolanesque hook, and closer "Whatever Happened To My Rock'n'Roll", a JAMC-style feedback-edged rocker were the highlights for me of a fine, sleazy and sexy set, during which I struggled through a bad pint!

Hung out in the lobby afterwards, and ran into one of the taciturn BRMC guys, trying to solicit positive comments on their US tour experiences with our friends The Sheila Divine! He was aware of TSD's forthcoming UK show which they're organising themselves, "and you've gotta respect that." You have, sir, you have!

The ridiculously popular - possibly because they're from South Wales, and a whole mess of folks had come over the bridge to catch 'em - Lostprophets were up next, with a huge moshpit full of kids. I failed to see the attraction as their music was clumsy riff-driven nu-metal of the first water, but also they proved themselves to be a complete bunch of doughnuts by calling out their own fans and chanting "loser" at them. Who exactly are the losers, people?

Stayed back in the lobby whilst this bunch of gits were on, taking a wander back into the hall a few minutes before the headline act was due on. Surprisingly, the hall was half-empty - all the Lostprophets massive had left! Barking mad!
"Laydeeeeeeez and Gennnnnulmennnnn; from Florida, please welcome, Mr. Andrew W-KKKKKKK!!!!", came the boxing-ring style announcement, as this old backing bunch of hardcore punk rejects kicked off the titanic thump of "It's Time To Party". Then Mr. WK strode onstage himself, grinning like a loon, clad in dirty white, all hair and attitude, and launched into the song like a scalded wombat. Time to party indeed!

Andrew WK's music is pretty simple stuff; shades of Van Halen-esque 80's hair rock and California surf-punk, all cranked up to 11 on the monitors and 100 mph. What makes the difference is WK himself; a perpetual ball of motion, energy and intensity, with the crazed roar of a seriously pissed-off Smilodon. Quite simply, the man, his infectious attitude for his music, and his performance itself, is totally awesome. Not once does he, the headliner after all, bemoan the scarcity of the crowd, and on one occasion he took a hit from a full pint glass square in the face, and gave the thrower the thumbs-up! Mad!

A quite brilliant "Party Hard" closed the set, and after 3 more intense, loud as hell numbers, he's off for a well-earned rest, having put heart and soul into his performance. Superb! And it didn't rain so much on the way home either. Bargain!

545 HAVEN, The Crescent, Bristol Fleece, Thursday 21 February 2002

Took a late call on this gig, having found about it from the NME classifieds the day before! Drove down in (once again) pissing rain, and got to the already quite full venue about 8.30.

First band on were a painfully young looking bunch of Scallies, who peddled a very 60's influenced Mod-ish sound, with very obvious Beatles/Stones and La's reference points. No surprise to hear they were from Liverpool! I'm quite partial to a bit of jangly pop, so I quite liked their Summery sound; shame they looked so damn miserable trotting it out!

Looking miserable, however, was something that main band Haven weren't about to be doing; they're riding on the crest of a wave at the moment, and received a rapturous welcome from the heaving crowd of mainly "normal" looking folks - not the usual gig crowd at all! Haven's set was pretty much based on promising new CD "Between The Senses", and centred on good old soaring, multi-layered pop with harmonic choruses. Haven vocalist Gary Briggs has an excellent rich, resonant voice which for me still recalls Talk Talk's Mark Hollis, and it lent power and raw emotion to their material. An excellently melancholy "Say Something", a brilliantly building "Beautiful Thing" (barely recognisable from the disappointing single version) and set closer "Let It Live" with an almost U2-like hook, were the highlights of a fine set from a band quickly fulfilling early promise, and going places - fast!

But not as fast as Rachel and I got home; door to door in 40 minutes flat!

546 THE SHEILA DIVINE, supporting Ben Kweller, London Camden Monarch "Barfly" Club, Tuesday 26 February 2002

Amazingly, The Sheila Divine, the band I flew to Boston for a weekend to see, and whom Rachel and I went to Belgium to follow, both last year, finally organised a gig in London! Self-financed and all, so what more could we do than to make an overnighter of it! Coached to London and booked in at our hotel, barely 100 yards from the venue! After an afternoon shopping and recreating, we hit the Barfly at 6, sneaking into The Sheila Divine's soundcheck (which sounded spot-on at this notoriously dodgy venue!).

Met and greeted the boys, then after a short wait while they ironed out their set - cut at the last minute to half an hour, damn! - we hit the local Wetherspoon's with bass player Jim Gilbert and drummer Ryan Dolan for an entertaining hour of booze, catching up and swapping Boston Rock anecdotes, particularly about Pete (+1!) Stone, and Hilken Mancini's Punk Rock Aerobics! Back to the venue and met up with travelling Swindon friends in the already-filling-up-nicely crowd - apparently this one was a sell-out, so The Sheila Divine had a chance to impress a good crowd!

Rach and I hit the front, stage right, for the Sheila's entrance at 9, with the shimmering, haunting title track form their "Countrymen" CD. Despite the poor sound, (it sounded better in soundcheck!), the set thereafter was predictably yet joyfully brilliant; the edgy, itchy rant of "Ostrich", followed by newie "We All Have Problems", familiar to us from Belgium, so we could sing along to this hooky punky number. But "Criminal" really ignited us, with its angular guitar slashes painting the way for Aaron's intense vocal performance, particularly the "rock you, yeah, yeah, yeah" finale, breathtaking and cacophonous, yet still melodic! After a couple of newies, more studied and slower paced yet no less dramatic and emotive, the finale "Back To The Cradle" once again brought melody and cacophony in equal measure, with Aaron abandoning the guitar to wrestle the mikestand in the song's thrilling crescendo, whilst howling primally and dramatically. At the end we were once again drained yet elated; that's what this band does to us!

Moved to the back for Ben Kweller's set, bumping into a late-arriving Kevin Hendricks and the rest of his Seafood bandmates in the process! Had the distinct honour of introducing two of my favourite bass-players - Jim and Kevin - to each other, and it was a nice surprise to discover Jim already owned Seafood's first CD! After The Sheila Divine's drama and intensity, Ben Kweller's lightweight solo acoustic limericks didn't really gel, so we left the bursting crowd for a seat downstairs, hanging out with the Sheilas and their supporting cast of friends and relatives for beer. We eventually left at 11.30 after a fun hour with the Sheilas and Co. Now we can't wait for them to come back again!

547 TANYA DONELLY, Goldrush, Mary Lorson, London University Of London Union, Thursday 28 February 2002

Another gig during this week off work for Rachel and myself, and it's first time back at ULU for me for over a decade! So, not surprisingly, after a swift drive/ tube over to Euston Square, I forgot how to get to the bloody venue! Luckily a couple of fellow punters with an internet map were wandering down Gower Street, so we followed them! Inside, an obviously renovated ULU was a surprise - entrances where I remembered bars, bars where I remembered outside balconies, and walkthroughs to the school hall-like venue where I remembered walls! Another, considerably more pleasant surprise was that the excellent Mary Lorson, she of Madder Rose/ Saint Low fame, was first support, due on at 8!

Wandered in to see Mary with Tim, leaving Mark and Rachel at the bar, and they totally failed to find us! Still, Mary's half-dozen or so songs were dark, brooding little animals, given spooky and sinister life by Mary's deliciously smoky vocal inflections and some low-key keyboard embellishment. Mary was joined onstage by Tanya for one number, Ms. D providing more feminine backing vocals to counterpoint the lusty Lorson larynx (!) very well. One final number, more upbeat in tempo and mood, rounded off an unexpected delight!

Expected support band, Oxford's Goldrush, were up next, but were no better than passable, with a countrified lilt recalling the Gin Blossom's duller moments, so Rach and I largely ignored them!

Wandered down the front for Tanya's arrival at 10ish. Ms. D treating us to a solo rendition of Belly's curious "The Bees" before being joined onstage by her band, including hubby Dean Fisher (ex Juliana Hatfield 3) and former Throwing Muses drummer David Narcizo, with Mary Lorson joining them midway through the set. With all that talent on offer, this one should have been a corker. However, it was largely forgettable, drawing mainly from disappointing wallpaper-music new CD "Beautysleep", with Tanya's sparkling vocals sadly wasted on this insipid material. A terribly ham-fisted version of Belly's classic "Slow Dog" summed up a frustrating night. Thank Mary Lorson for being the highlight of this evening!

548 IKARA COLT, The Parkinsons, The 80's Matchbox B-Line Disaster, Gloucester Guildhall Arts Centre, Saturday 2 March 2002

After a day in North Wales visiting my son Evan, Rachel and I took the opportunity to stop in Gloucester on the way home to check out this intriguing line-up. Hit the venue just before doors at 8 pm, so got cokes in to try to wake us up after the long drive South; then suddenly the Gloucester under-17 punk rock posse turned up - hordes of rude and misbehaving brat kids! Bah!

Took a wander into the hall for the first band, the splendidly-named 80's Matchbox B-Line Disaster, on at 8.45. The springy floor at this venue certainly got a good workout as the punk rock kids went for it in an apeshit slam-dancing frenzy. I quite liked their set, full of energy and venom without the clumsy self-pitying anger of the Nu Metal posse. Musically they were a midway point between the old school manic psychobilly of the Meteors, and the metronome Goth of Ministry. A couple of things were however lacking - practice, and tunes!

Back to the bar with a tired Rach to get out of the road of the screaming brats, before Portugal's The Parkinsons, who came on at 9.30. They're named after the disease, allegedly, which say it all about their attitude, and when they say, "The Parkinsons are punk rock," I'm glad to report they mean it, maaaan - punk rock as in shirts-off, anarchic terrace-chant choruses spat out with a Rotten-esque vocal delivery. "They're like the "Batman At The Launderette" group," remarked Rach after one song, which nailed it - they were The Shapes, The Drones, The Models, every bile-filled one chord wonder punk band rolled into one, and cryogenically preserved for the last 25 years. Needless to say, I loved them - all the star-jumps, the Stooges posturing, the crowd stage invasion, the lot!

Headliners Ikara Colt are equally angry and bilious, but whereas The Parkinsons recall a whole slew of 70's punk bands, some memorable, some anonymous, da Colt are The Fall, pure and simple. Acerbic, confrontational, surly and sinister, with a superb drummer, they again put on an edgy, passionate performance, much more suited to the bigger stage provided by the Guildhall. An early "One Note", with its' indecipherable chant, and closer "Sink Venice" were the highlights for me, but the whole set in all its hard-edged, venomous glory bodes well for the forthcoming debut CD.

So all in all, Steve Lamacq (who wrote the blurb for this tour, calling it, "the most exciting package tour you'll see this year") might have a point. Certainly exciting, very retro, and a couple of names to look out for in The Parkinsons and Ikara Colt. Punk rock all over again!

550 SEAFOOD, Crackout, Gloucester Guildhall Arts Centre, Wednesday 13 March 2002

Amazingly, after an absence of about 5 years, this is the third time this year already back at the Guildhall! Happy to return as well, as its' only 40 minutes up the road, and a fun venue with bouncy floors. So we went along to the mighty Seafood, expecting a springy evening!

Got there at 8.30 after a drive truncated by a quick stop to shut the bonnet on Ady's car; visions of the car-mare that was the Miles Hunt Club trip recently went through my head, I have to say! Anyway, we got there, no problem, and were sorted for beer and a good vantage point for Crackout, whom I took some notice of this time. They were breathless and spunky, but occasionally veered towards nu-metal riffery too much for my liking. However, a couple of better numbers - one of which was reminiscent of Ned's Atomic Dustbin (and which was Rachel's favourite of the set, no surprise there!), and one of which recalled "Into The White" by the Pixies - salvaged the set from complete anonymity.

Took a position a bit nearer the front for Seafood's set, but not right in the melee; as this was again an over-14's gig, there were a lot of slamdancing kids in evidence, but at least they were better behaved than the scampering youth club brats of the recent Ikara Colt gig here!

Da 'Food came on to their usual pounding intro theme and ripped straight into the acerbic "Guntrip". So much for my vantage point away from the crowd, as I abandoned my coat with Dave and Ceri, and dived into the melee. A brilliant "Western Battle" and a surprisingly reconstructed "Easy Path" followed quickly, as da 'Food really hit top gear. Thrilling and beguiling in equal measure, this was the sound of an inspired rock and roll band at the peak of their powers. An intuitive and consummate performance from Seafood, swapping between strumalong pop ("Exit"), dramatic and moody balladry ("Assassins") and confrontational and savage alt-rock ("Cloaking") with seamless ease. As ever, a brilliant "Folk Song Crisis", with the white noise drama building into the anthemic climax of "I hope the wretched town will fall", rounded off the set perfectly, and it wasn't until well after the set that I realised they'd left out their best number "Porchlight"! This set is so strong, that you don't even miss it these days.

Well, number 17 for Seafood and I'm nowhere near tired of seeing this band; in fact they're getting better and better, and this show was as good as I've ever seen them. Roll on number 18 - soon!

549 ELECTRIC SOFT PARADE, The High And Lonesome, Bristol Fleece, Wednesday 6 March 2002

Another late call down to Bristol; this time Rachel got a flyer through the post this morning, so we both decided that rock and roll was a certain antidote to the "first week back at work" blues!

So, we hit the Fleece at 8.30, which was much more sparsely attended than the recent Haven gig, and had a wait until the first band, on at 9.15. They were an intriguing idea - a 3 piece of acoustic guitar/vocals, double bass and bongos - however they were dull dull dull; a poor man's (no, let's make that a destitute man's) Grant Lee Buffalo, with a plodding moodiness reminiscent of Pedro The Lion, and a really irritating vocalist (the voice, that is, not him!).

So we headed to the back of the by-now filling venue, standing near to the guys from the Electric Soft Parade, checking out the support. We were thus witness to a lovely moment, when a girl went up to the band, they thought she wanted an autograph or something, but she just wanted them to get out of the way so she could go to the toilet! Ha!

By now the place was quite full and Rach was feeling a little tired, so we held a watching brief at the back by the mixing desk for the Electric Soft Parade (who will inevitably hereafter be referred to as ESP!). Now, not having listened to their debut album, I only had the deliciously melodic "Silent To The Dark" single to go by, and was therefore expecting a mellow, strumalong set of sub-Teenage Fanclub tunefulness.

Got that a bit wrong then! Tunes and melodic catchiness were certainly abundantly in evidence in this set, but mellow? The opener rocked along with a chunky riffery which recalled certain Bostonian bands, and "There's A Silence", dispensed with early on, had the strident power of a Glitterbox. Thence followed a varied and inventive set of always-tuneful powerpop, with an occasional keyboard sheen adding colour and life. Descending basslines and pace changes added to the excellent listening experience, and only an ill-advised (and straight!) cover of Kylie Minogue's "Can't Get You Out Of My Head" struck a jarring note. Even their reconstructed Krautrock rendition of "Silent To The Dark", which stretched for ages, was absorbing and memorable. So overall, ESP - a real surprise. An excellent and inventive "live" experience and a name to watch - closely!

551 WEEZER, Remy Zero, London Brixton Academy, Sunday 24 March 2002

Rachel and I originally got tix for this one waaaay back in August last year, when American Hi-Fi were announced as support. The Hi-Fi at Brixton Academy, could you imagine...?! Anyway, the tour was pulled by the US label following September 11, and when it got rescheduled, there was no Hi-Fi on the bill. D'oh! Double D'oh! Rach was feeling ill and I was tired following a weekend of Evan staying with us, but after a row with his mother after I returned him, I really needed a gig! So, with a replacement gig companion secured at short notice, we hit the road at 5, parking up at Shepherd's Bush and getting over to Brixton for 7.30.

Into the venue for the last half of support Remy Zero's set. One number was promising in a speedy, early REM/ Marion kind of way, a couple more were OK too, but there was some ham-fisted clumsy riffery thrown in as well. Will the real Remy Zero please stand up?

Took a vantage point stage left, halfway back, for Weezer. This was, amazingly, the first time I'd seen Weezer, having enjoyed their chunky surf-rock since their first, 1994, album. They were, however, pretty much as I'd anticipated; good, chunky and very sing-along, with their simple, hook-heavy melodies being complemented by excellent sound, despite a lack of oomph in a few numbers (notably "Hash Pipe", which was disappointingly flat). The stage presence was however missing; Weezer were very static indeed, particularly bearded vocalist Rivers Cuomo, who barely uttered more than a mumble between songs! Nevertheless, a lot of their numbers were impressive, particularly "Surf Wax America" and "Don't Let Go", and the sing-along "Say It Ain't So", which raised the roof. The crowd went nuts for them the whole gig, which made me wonder; why aren't the remarkably similar yet vastly superior Fountains Of Wayne this popular?

Watched the encores (a cheesy 70's cover and the inevitable "Buddy Holly") from the back, running into Steve Lamacq in the process and chatting about The Gravel Pit! Home for 1 - still lamenting the absence of American Hi-Fi!

552 JIMMY EAT WORLD, Midtown, Bristol Academy, Thursday 28 March 2002

They're dropping like flies at the moment! This time Ady had to pull out at short notice as he had to get his patio re-laid (!), but luckily Tim could join Rachel and myself for this sell-out show at short notice. So we hit the road at 7 and parked up in the multi-storey, hitting the already-packed venue for just after 8.

Got a bar balcony viewing slot at this venue, which had been revised since my last visit (more dancefloor and upper balcony space), for support act Midtown, from Noo Joisey. They came on to Guns'N'Roses' "Sweet Child Of Mine" and rocked out in a rather generic pop-punk kind of way, like Blink 182 without the cartoon geekiness. Some good moments but unspectacular fayre overall, but they went down a storm with the kids in the mosh, finishing their set with a refrain from "God Gave Rock'N'Roll To You".

Met an old Bristol buddy - another Tim! - for a chat at the bar, before taking my place again for Jimmy Eat World, on at 20 past 9. Again, they took the stage to no intro music or fanfare, and kicked in with "A Praise Chorus" from "Bleed American". I have to say that the early part of their set, whilst having much of their trademark sensitive poppy punk sound, was either a little too note-perfectly polite or flat for my liking, and it wasn't until the slow burn of "Anderson Mesa", with its' hypnotic guitar lines, that the set really kicked off. The haunting and catchy "Lucky Denver Mint", up next, was their best number all night, and they kicked on from there to close the set in a more emphatic and energetic manner. A messy yet energetic "Bleed American" (introduced as such by vocalist Jim Adkins, rather than by its post-9/11 name "Salt Sweat Sugar") closed the set, and the encores of the jaunty sing-along "The Middle" and superb new single "Sweetness", with its' nod to Buffalo Tom's classic "Velvet Roof", really put the exclamation point of a set which started slowly but ended with a roar. A bit of a lift and car-park exit-mare on the way out and home, but still back home for midnight!

553 THE BUTTERFLIES OF LOVE, Milky Wimpshake, The Chemistry Experiment, Bath Moles, Thursday 4 April 2002

I'd been meaning to check out this New Haven, CT. band for some time, so when Beef called the day before to say The Butterflies Of Love were at Bath Moles and was I up for it, I didn't need to think too hard. Rock queen Rachel passed on this one, though, as it promised to be "too mellow", so after a quick call to former New Havenite, Gravel Pit bassist EdV, for the "dope" on the band, Beef picked just myself up at 9.

In for 10, and first band of this Fortuna Pop! record label showcase triple-bill, The Chemistry Experiment, were on shortly after. They were a half-baked mishmash of late 80's Pulp, and arty student weirdness just for the sake of it. Didn't like them, but next band up, Newcastle's Milky Wimpshake, were a much better proposition, despite the terrible name. They recalled 80's pop janglers The Brilliant Corners with their fresh jauntiness and had some funny lyrics ("you don't know where the fence is, as you lost your contact lenses!"). However many of their flippant numbers merged into one, and I got the idea I'd have liked them better if I were a 17 year old bookworm!

Anyway, we were there for The Butterflies Of Love, and we took a stage right position at the front for their entrance at 11.45. An eclectic looking bunch, they sounded as varied and indefinable as they looked, recalling the monotone drone of the Velvet Underground, the lilting melody of Luna and the touching emotion of Wheat, often all at once! An intriguing blend of melody and atmosphere which I thoroughly enjoyed, despite my total lack of familiarity with the material, which I hope to rectify soon. A fine set augmented by the twin vocals of the unrelated Dan (the short, Dean Wareham-like falsetto vocalist) and Jeffrey Greene (a very tall baritone, whose mumbling between-songs oratories recalled Velvet Crush's Ric Menck!). Complimented Jeff after the show, also mentioning the Gravel Pit, whom it turned out he'd encountered before. Didn't chat for long, though, as this was already half past midnight on a school night. The Butterflies Of Love were however certainly worth the missing Zeds!

554 CHEAP TRICK, Span, London University Of London Union, Thursday 25 April 2002

Hammered up the M4 for this one - I didn't get out of work until 5.15 so we didn't set off until 5.45, but we only took 1 3/4 hours to get to Shepherd's Bush to park up. Not too bad a run! Over to ULU, joining the queue; as usual, they didn't open the doors until late. D'oh!

So this meant we got in just as support band Span took the stage. They weren't bad at all; a touch of moodiness, So-Cal punk rock and spiky riffery from a vocalist whose deep gravelly voice belied his youth. In fact, he was probably the youngest person in the house tonight! One nice touch during their single was a pregnant pause, during which you could hear a pin drop. There's a knowledgeable rock'n'roll audience for you!

Took a good position towards the front, stage right, for the entrance of da Trick; bang on 9, and straight into "Good Evening Ladies And Gentlemen", which set the tone for the gig; "are you ready to rock?" Well, OK then!

After an uncharacteristically untogether start, the Trick really hit top gear with an early "I Want You To Want Me", a superb breathless descending-bass riff-led classic. After that, their blend of old-school rock, big rock riffery and strident choruses, led by the vocal gymnastics of Robin Zander and the showmanship of guitarist Rick Neilsen, hit every bull's-eye going. Highlights were the touching "Voices", accompanied by what Rick dubbed, "the University Of London all great voice choir!"; a stunning, strident "Tonight It's You"; the all-time classic "Surrender", during which Rick produced the 5-neck guitar (!); and encore "Dream Police", during which I totally lost my voice screaming along to the chorus (!).But even the unfamiliar numbers (including a couple from an apparently forthcoming new album - cool!) were spot-on during another great Cheap Trick performance.

And we made good time back as well! Out of the gig at 10.30, back in the car at 11, and home by 12.20!

555 ...AND YOU WILL KNOW US BY THE TRAIL OF DEAD, Vue, Sunshine, Bristol Academy, Monday 29 April 2002

Back to the Bristol Academy, which is becoming quite a regular haunt, for the return of the tiny Texan terrors. Took our own "terror", Ady the champion Aardvark, along, and hit the venue at 8.30, by which time Eastern European support Sunshine were peddling a type of heavy hip-hop instrumentation onstage, which I just found dirge-like. Stayed at the bar while main support Vue were on; they played a schizophrenic set of unobtrusive Kravitz-like rawk. Not too good really.

The place was surprisingly quiet tonight, with the upstairs balcony closed, so for once we managed to get on the dancefloor for the main act here! Trail Of Dead, hot off the back of their most consistent and cohesive CD yet in "Source Tags And Codes", came on at 10 and burst into dynamic life. The current CD is their most song-oriented and least frantic yet, but "live" the songs took flight with ...TOD's usual kinetic dynamism and sonic assault. An early "Mistakes And Regrets" was fantastic, and the new material sounded thrilling given the roughhouse "live" treatment. After the usual instrument swapping, during which drummer Jason took vocal chores and used the opportunity to hurl himself headlong into the mosh at least twice, howling with anger and intensity, we got an equally stunning and intense "Perfect Teenhood", then the usual instrument and drum-kit trashing after "Richter Scale".

Then something odd happened - the boys came back onstage and re-assembled their instruments! Despite the poor turnout, ...TOD resolved to, "play all night for you NME-reading Limeys," so said Jason (a remark that solicited a catcall of "redneck asshole" from his own bassist Neil!). In the end we settled for a quicksilver run-through of "Totally Natural", after which they trashed the stage again, once and for all. Another great set from one of the most dynamic "live" bands around!

556 THE 2002 ESSENTIAL FESTIVAL, Rock Day, Ashton Court, Bristol, Sunday 5 May 2002

Happy Birthday to Rachel! This was her birthday present from her ma and pa, and the "slight return" of an old festival she used to go to in Brighton. The move to Bristol promised "bigger and better", but little were we to know...

So, Rach and I picked up Rich and Ady at 10.30 and motored along to Bristol, looking in vain for the supposed "Park And Ride" at Tollgate, but deciding to drive to Ashton Gate instead. However, when we got there, we discovered this alleged "Park And Ride" was just a "Park", so we had to walk! So we set off, following the police cones on the streets, but with no crowds or even directions (!), we were walking blind! We eventually had to cut across a field of sheep before we found the right direction - straight up a hill! After walking for the best part of an hour, during which we passed folks who'd heard some stages were shut and bands cancelled, we got there to find the gates were still shut! So we got our breath back (esp. me and The Big Man!) and met some other friends. The doors opened at 1, and it then took over half an hour to get the very small crowd in, as the security was totally over-the-top, searching handbags and frisking everyone. My security bloke thought the pen in my back pocket was a blade, and insisted on searching inside my camera case! Fucking hell!

Once in, it got no better; the information booth had no information, and the programme sellers didn't know what was going on, until someone stuck a notice on the booth door saying stages 2 and 6 had been cancelled; some bands were accommodated elsewhere, but the rest - including, apparently, Seafood - were off! After all the other bullshit we'd put up with just to get up and in, I was livid and all set to go home, until we went round the tents, checking the running orders, and found Seafood were playing after all! A beer and a telling-off from Rachel later, I was back to my usual sunny self and ready for some rock.

Bands were already playing by now (they'd started at 1.15, to single-figure audiences; another example of this farcically organised festival!), so we checked out KIDS NEAR WATER in the sidewalk tent, who sounded good in a 90's Green Day punk kind of way, until they started the generic Nu-Metal screaming. We ran into Kevin from Seafood after the set; he complimented my "new" leather jacket (I'm rocking the Ramones look today, me!) and we chatted about this festival farce before we headed for more beer. Into the Sleaze Nation tent at 20 to 3 for THE BELLRAYS' one-song soundcheck which sounded good and sleazy, so we hung around for the set. Fronted by a black female vocalist with huge hair, they rocked out like Tina Turner fronting Iggy And The Stooges during their faster, more frenetic moments - very hard and sleazy - but were less impressive with their feet off the loud pedal. Eventually, their set got a little samey - but still listenable - so we retreated outside for noodles. SAHARA HOTNIGHTS were up next; they were Rich and Ady's big tips and they didn't disappoint. 4 Swedish girls in leather playing souped-up Ramones-esque punky power pop. They attracted a good crowd as well, as they were serious eye-candy, coming across like a Runaways for the new millennium. Rich had previously advised that a couple of the girls lived together in the Biblical sense, so we also had an entertaining game of "Spot The Lesbian" during their set.

More beer, then we stopped over at the Backlash tent, the big one in the corner, for JELLO BIAFRA's spoken word set. Ran into the Steve Tyler and Lou Barlow lookalikes from the Bellrays (as opposed to the Kevin Spacey and Tina Turner lookalikes!) for a quick chat before the former lead signer of US punk legends The Dead Kennedys joined us. His subject matter was very disturbing, centring around conspiracy theories between big business and the current US Bush administration, but his performance was uneasy and compelling, his Mickey Mouse on helium voice providing an eerie juxtaposition with the subject matter. We were compelled and stuck around until the end, thus missing the start of the MY VITRIOL set in the main "13" tent. "Welcome to the farcical festival," declared a clearly pissed-off Som; apparently the disorganisation extended to the backstage as well! My Vitriol chucked us a couple of haunting newies during their set, but the older ones "Always; Your Way" and the instrumental set closer won through. But I was saving myself, as SEAFOOD were up next...

3/4 of an hour to kill before da 'Food came on, so more beer, then Ady and I mosied over to the virtually deserted Backlash tent (Rach had decided to catch the opening numbers of Shed Seven's set), pitching up right at the front for da' Food's entrance at 7. Their set took a couple of numbers to really catch fire, but "Porchlight" got the mosh going (by this time Rach had crashed into my back) as the boys hurled themselves around with wild abandon. "Folk Song Crisis", surprisingly mid-set, was riotous and intense, and needed an acoustic number to clear the air, which David duly delivered. Once again brilliant, perfectly paced and passionately delivered, Seafood's set won Set Of The Day in a canter, climaxed by the metronomic and mesmerising "In This Light". I've said it before, but it's true; Seafood are the only UK band really worth a damn, and have been so for some years, and they rescued this festival. Full stop.

Chilled by the bar in the twilight, running into both David and Kevin from da 'Food, hearing stories of their sharing a dressing room with Jello Biafra (!), and nailing guest-list slots for their forthcoming Oxford gig. Then briefly checked out a couple of other bands; SOUNDTRACK TO OUR LIVES were weird pompous prog-rock Swedes apparently fronted by Odin in a Kaftan! Excuse me, but didn't we fight the punk wars to get rid of types like this? THE BETA BAND were more intriguing, dub-ly experimental ambient types, and played the nice one from the "High Fidelity" soundtrack, but Rich didn't like them so we didn't stick around.

Went our separate ways for the final set of the day; Rich and Rach went to see The Levellers, but Ady and I stayed in the big "13" tent for SUPERGRASS, who played a mixed set of newer, Stones-ish sounding R&B soundbites, and a whole load of their snappy, knockabout Britpop singles thrown into the mix for good measure. One of those bands which I'd accumulated records by, without actually being a huge fan of, I enjoyed their et, which was played with enthusiasm and optimism, with a hectic "Richard III" being the highlight for me. I actually nipped out mid-set to the loo, watching and hearing a bit of ROCKET FROM THE CRYPT on the way, especially "On A Rope" which actually sounded corking. But it was back to the 'Grass for their set climax.

Then we hooked up with Rich and Rach again, for the long tramp down the hill, during which I twisted my ankle! D'oh! So, overall, a real disorganised mess, but good company and some good rock - especially from Seafood, the stars of the show - rescued the day!