There's two ways of looking at this. One, fiercely fighting against the apathy of an increasingly short sighted music industry The Sisters Of Mercy are winning the battle by virtue of the fact that they still exist and still perform. Two, unable to admit that it's over, the bedraggled corpse of The Sisters limps on, performing cover versions of their own songs, to ever dwindling audiences. There is currency in both.

The last time The Sisters released an album they headlined - and sold out - the 12,000 capacity Wembley Arena. On the first of two nights at the 1,600 capacity Astoria, it isn't even sold out. Touts are offering loose change for spare tickets because you can still walk up and buy some. However, the second night is completely sold out.

First night sees The Sisters on full form. Whilst they seem slightly tired, and in fact, not entirely blistering as the legendary Sisters shows can occasionally be, they are still intellectual love gods in a rock n roll band.

Night two is far better. Eldritch is obviously happier with the bands line up and seems content to present a truly united band front. The opener, Temple Of Love, even in its castrated form - rocks like a motherfucker. Adam, in sunglasses, and Chris - subtly wearing one of his very own T-Shirts proclaiming "Sex God Rock Star" take the centre stage for most of the song, and Baron Eldritch, sorry, Mr. Andy Taylor, strolls on as if he just turned left and found the stage by accident. From my vantage point, up close and just near Adam Pearson, the Sisters are blinding, even if the audience aren't.

Eldritch works the crowd like a seasoned rock trooper. He loiters around in the darkness and smoke, seemingly oblivious to stagecraft, which makes it look as natural as waiting for a bus. Second nature. He stalks the stage, hidden in smoke, and prowls around at the lip, enjoying the view, and makes smoking a cigarette absolutely captivating. However, after Temple... comes Ribbons. Despite not having the frightening backing vocals of "Incoming!" it's a spiky, witty thing, and when Eldritch smiles his crooked smile, even despite his fairly friendly stage demeanour, its obvious why he doesn't smile. Those teeth look lethal. For a change though, unlike the last night, Ribbons features drums. On Thursday, half of the backing was missing.

Next up is the firey Come Together, before the evenings absolute coup-de-grace. The blistering, shit hot, fun n funky, Train/Detonation Boulevard medley. It bumps and twists and turns, and Adam really does give the backing vocals some glorious sheen as he rips riffs out. Next up is the industrial strength riff fest we call Crash N Burn. What a song. The hall is full of nutters punching the air and yelling the words. Not bad for a song you can't buy in the shops.

Body Electric is next, and dispatched in a menacing fashion. The song - at 112bpm, - runs at about two-thirds of normal speed, and instead of being a breakneck thrash through hell like normal, it's a dark, menacing brooding beat. It reminds me of a caged lion, waiting for its time to thrash out. Fucking stunning.

Next up, based on a fuzzy distorted bass, comes the sleek genius of Summer. Sounds like a hit to me. If It could ever be recorded by the band and Andrew would stop asking for £3 million. And the lights come in all shades of yellows, just in perfect time with the lyrics. Shame though, its so cloudy I could swear that at least once, even on such an empty stage, Adam and Andrew collide. 

Next up is Dominion. Andrew looks genuinely pleased and points his mike out to the crowd letting them sing the chorus with a big smile on his face. Working the crowd like a good old trooper. In the meantime, as the song moves into Mother Russia, the lights slowly move to red, and everyone sings their praises to a stadium rock apocalypse or post-Chernobyl fallout. Mother Russia, rain down down down. However, Eldritch correctly reminds... "It's not going to happen. It's been a people's republic for six years."

And onto Giving Ground, which bristles, and is absolutely begging to be a stonking b-side of the imaginary hit singles. As is the great rendition of the On The Wire-Teachers medley. Which despite, being 17th years old, still sounds great. During On The Wire (and most of the set) Adam is being stalked by an asian girl with a video camera, and Andrew joins him on the side of the stage as he emotes, and raises his eyebrow quizzically. What I realise is that Andrew is in fact, a good old fashioned Englishman, with an eyebrow as effective and cruel as Roger Moore. Hmm, wonder if they'll accept a bleach blonde sexgod rockstar as James Bond?

And so the set enters the final straight. Flood II is greeted with open arms, quite literally. As the set started early as Astoria will turn immediately from the Goth Batcave to the home of Camp Attack (tm - the worlds biggest gay disco) , the instant the Sisters leave the stage, they come back on to give us a special feedback version of the beautiful Something Fast. The look on Adams face, a mixture of horror and absolute, useless hysterics is priceless., as he tried to play a guitar solo and instead gets a screaming banshee wail. The band collapse in hysterics, and Adam can't keep a straight face. Andrew wanders over and the two joke about it as Adam shakes his head.

Next up, the awesome Capricorn, and the sight of Nurse airdrumming to the Gary Glitter track. Another 10 second break, and its back to the racy War On Drugs (that guitar riff, sounds just like Confide In Me) and then the instrumental, Snub Nose, that should be the debut track on the never-to-be-released (probably) new album. Finally it's singalonga Sisters as This Corrision flattens the opposition, and we are all turfed out onto the street to allow Britains biggest gay disco commence on time.

Rockunfcukinroll indeed.

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