A delayed restart to post-Reading gig proceedings, thanks to the lorry drivers' fuel protest blockades forcing the postponement and eventual cancellation of a scheduled Drugstore gig (bummer, but I'm with the lorry drivers on this one, and it's not like we've not seen Drugstore before...). Still, I never expected to drive tonight, but lorry driver Ady had to pull out at short notice. So, hastily redrawn plans...
Hit the venue at 8.15 to hear bad news, scheduled support The Llama Farmers had also ducked out at short notice! D'oh! So we were left with Grebo, a painfully young local act booked earlier that day, and who were obviously playing to their biggest ever audience. Nevertheless, they showed potential with good attitude, energy and punky guitar licks. A couple more tunes to augment the youthful adrenaline buzz, and we might be on to something...
Beforehand, I had a nose through a couple of junk CD boxes on the merch counter and found a prime slice of rock, namely Tommy Keene's "Songs From The Film", amongst the Creation Records castoffs. Result! I don't think the merch guy was too pleased when I offered a measly £5 for 4 CDs, but he took the cash nonetheless!
The Crocketts have been Rachel's main obsession since Reading Festival, thanks to their passionate, incendiary, Irish-tinged punk rock. Tonight, led by crazed, St. Vitus Dance addled vocalist Davey McManus, they put on a fine performance of vim, venom and vitriol. McManus is a continual visual focus, with tension, bodily tics and twitches and neck-bulging effort all featured throughout. "Lucifer", a breathless opener, was the highlight until "On Something", delivered by McManus in the middle of a frenzied and incredibly young moshpit. A wild "Crazy Little Thing Called Love" (yes, that one...) delivered by the bassist in Jesus robes and a Freddy Mercury comedy 'tache, was an unexpected end to an agitated, confrontational yet entertaining night. More power to 'em!
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