Written by Christopher Lloyd.

16th February 2007.

Some people get a lot of junk mail. I get something worse than that. I get CD’s from promotion companies. 9.9 times out of ten, they are abysmal, but every now and again you get a real gem. A few months back I got ‘What’s the time Mr. Wolf’ by Noisettes through my door. It didn’t leave my car stereo for an age.

Whenever I’m near a campfire I’ll inevitably have to leave at some point, due to the acrid, chokey, uncomfortable, nauseating stench that hit’s me in the back of my throat. That is caused by Plastic. This is the effect I’ve had at a lot of gigs of late, and it’s by the band’s I’ve unfortunately chosen to view’s plasticity. Thank god this wasn’t the case tonight.

Support came from Mayor McCa who came across as a drunken one-man badly drawn band, both funny and highly enjoyable live, but one suspects he may be a little tiresome on vinyl.

Noisettes arrived onstage and played for about an hour, sixty minutes full of fantastic noisy, spiky, full-on rock and roll action.

 
When I really love a band, I feel a sense of pride when watching them; I guess akin to a parent watch their child score a winning goal at a footy match. This is the feeling I got tonight as Noisettes ploughed through track after fantastic track. ‘Sister Rosetta’, The Bridge to Canada’, Don’t give up’ all steamrollering the venue into submission.  I felt proud in my association as ‘fan’ and Noisettes should be pleased to have re-introduced me to proper gig’s, for the first time in a long time!

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