After wondering in from the Artic cold sweeping down Upper Street, Treena and I wandered into the seemingly brand-new Islington Academy nee Marquee and bought a lime and soda.
Almost 2 hours later after some turgid Scottish tosh (B&S have a lot to answer for…) and a oddball Manc comedian, John Cooper Clarke, we realised we were in the wrong venue. And we were about to see The Fall. We toyed with the idea of staying… but since I’d lived through the 80s and 90s without embracing the genius of Mark E Smith, and we were both feeling a little tired we thought we’d go home.
Popping our heads into the Academy BAR, however, we saw Kid Galahad were about to start.
I’d bought the tickets in the spirit of Lucky Dip – vaguely having heard something somewhere.
THEY WERE BLINDING. Short set – cos they’ve only got one album, but of Hive-like precision and fronted by a totally sexy budding Rock Star, Ash. He’s the biz. Enjoying himself, doing the show, giving us juice. Check