Train: Charing Cross (15 mins) Euston (17 mins)
Tube: Tottenham Court Rd (3 mins)
The venue is legendary due to the connections with early punk gigs. The Sex Pistols played here, don't you know. *yawn*
If you're in a band then don't ever phone them and ask for a gig, cos you'll get your head ripped off. They get hundreds of calls a week. If you want a gig here, you'll need the hire the place or latch onto somebody else hiring it.
Not much happens in the way of rock gigs. Is mainly blues and and jazz and stuff.
The is a great big pillar in the middle-front of the stage. Odd.
Nice little basement venue though.
Y'know those gigs that start off absolutely rammed, and see the audience gradually fizzle out throughout the evening, completely the wrong way round?? This is one of those gigs. The not-so-beautiful people are out in force tonight for a gig that features 3 of Europe's best bands strutting their stuff in the sweatbox th»
Donna Mathews is standing next to me, getting psyched to go onstage. Hang on a minute, this can't be right. Donna Mathews is a certified fuck-off famous Pop Star. She should be swanning around Soho or whatever certified fuck-off famous Pop Stars do, not standing next to me in a basement club on Oxford Street.»
I really don't want to be here. I'm in a bad mood, I'm PMS-ing to all hell, and I'm trapped in a smoky basement rammed to the gills with fashionistas and the Prada Meinhoff are out in force. Sure, I could amuse myself perving over the Dirty Dronerock Boys milling about the place, but honestly, most of them look like»
Hype – the destroyer of hope, or the platform to the party? This week’s headline to next week’s obituary? Or a rise from the current hot rumour, to ‘legend of our time’? Whichever way early exposure may push a new band, their mythic origins are not usually found in Lincoln. Particularly when the root of the buzz is in »
When you’ve got a collection of endlessly enjoyable pop hooks under your belt and you’re playing to a rapturously responsive sold out 100 club, frankly, I couldn’t give a f**k what your band’s called.»
Maybe because it's raining outside…»
Dogs make it quite obvious that they don't really care what the indie elite think of them. They might not be breaking any musical barriers, but there's a room full of sweaty and battered people with massive grins on their faces that love this band to bits. And what's integrity anyway when you can make people happy instead?»
"Na na na na" choruses? Sweaty bodies? No, this isn't the Kaiser Chiefs...»
Nick Offer snarls the words out, then he's in the crowd and people are going fuckin crazy, everyone trying to keep up with him, and his clothes are being pulled open and he's leering dementedly into the sea of raised arms and smiling faces like some kind of sharp-toothed demon hedonist...»
“We’ve a new record out, here, in the UK,” announces singer Andrea Zollo twice, at least. “It’s not out in the States yet, so it’s good to see it. Do we have copies? Okay, we have copies…” There’s a faint suggestion of surprise in her voice as she’s given the confirmation; there’s no shortage of surprise among the crowd, too, that the Seattle-ites don’t take this opportunity – one of only two UK dates – to promote their new wares in a more obvious fashion...»
The band actively work to create those sombre, reflective moments, especially early on in their set, knowing they'll encourage impure thoughts keeping the whole thing, inevitably, revolving around the big ‘It’.»
So all good things must come to an end, even if sometimes the final curtain tends to fall somewhat prematurely... »
As one wanders round the 100 Club before anyone takes the stage, it is impossible not to feel as if tonight is going to be somewhat confusing. A legendary punk venue in its own right, this place has more seen legends come and go over the years than most. Why, then, is a band like Future Of The Left scheduled to play...»
He’s a jawbone to admire, a slender frame that many a mid-twenties man would kill for; his songs bleed upwards from his heart while his fingers bleed in accordance with gravity from all the pluck-strum-jerk actions at his wrist. Dan Sartain ain’t your average rocker rolling with the trends of the money-making. Dan Sartain ain’t your average anything...»
While Maximo Park have progressed admirably from tiny clubs to arena stages, their roots are clearly dear to them – they play tonight as if they’re headlining Wembley, and their enthusiasm to maintain a level of excitement throughout is entirely reciprocated...»
During a set that lasts for about an hour, QOTSA pull out only a tiny quota of the smashes they’ve written in the past, and that’s being generous. It’s not like ‘Little Sister’ nor ‘Burn The Witch’ can hold their own against ‘Go With The Flow’ or – oh please oh please come back for an encore and play it – ‘The Lost Art Of Keeping A Secret’...»
While most can be found sipping ale in public houses across the country this evening, watching the European Cup slip in an unfortunate manner from the hands of Liverpool FC, some of us have defied convention and stand in the throng of Oxford Street's 100 Club. Unfortunately, however, not many have followed our lead – the venue is half empty. The few that are in attendance needn't have bothered, either, really: their support is lackluster throughout. Through no fault of Annuals, too...»
Welcome to the 100 Club. The Clash! The Sex Pistols! Punk rock! And, erm… stand-up comedy? Why, yes indeed...»
Touring their extremely good debut LP Miracle Kicker, Dark Captain Light Captain appear to have grown not only in number (from two to six) but also in dynamic range.»