InMe

Set the scene for me. Set the perfect scene. Dare ya. Underage girls begging for spunk? Oooh, how very fashionable. It’s still illegal ya hear me.

But yeah: little semi-sluts running around gagging for demi-deity Dave’s delicious… hmmm, until they actually get it. That’s the *InMe *fanbase. Right? Whatever. I found some respect in my pocket for InMe fans after tonight. Not because one of ‘em actually got it, or because one of the little critters wowed me with their superior intellect. It was their willingness to accept. Maybe it’s just a sign of that beautiful naivety that you lose once you’ve seen too much.

Set me another scene. A scene that disgusts. Not like that. Overage men begging for another pint at the bar. Possibly seen as more illegal in some eyes.

A decent moshpit materialising for the opening act? On the first song? Unheard of. *Colour of Fire *can take the blame for this because if it ain’t worth dancing to you’re just not gonna be dancing. Full. Stop. CoF really have something here that’s worth _talking _about. CoF will bring songs to you that you’ll remember when you walk away from the corner shop, thinking about how exactly you’re going to cook that turkey steak tonight. Serrated syrupy harmonies pumping through agitated melodies – it will take hold of you. More likely to be sooner than later by the looks of this rabble. Grilled.

Why should InMe fans get berated so? If they can do this for a band who they’ll have probably never heard before, then they deserve everything they think they want, and nothing of what they get.

But you’re thinking that maybe my gushing praise for Colour of Fire might explain the crowd’s reaction. I have nothing to compare it to though. Not really. If *Biffy Clyro *were rubbish and the crowd yawned and carried on rolling then it might carry some credence, but unluckily Biffy came and got me. They seem to be moving away from their _7-times-a-song über-dynamics _to a slightly less distinctive sound. It sounds grungier than normal. Maybe they’re just trying to make the front third of the room jump around a bit. Hmmm, perhaps .

*InMe *played to a room heaving full of worshippers. It was prayer. You are nothing without your fans, they say. You’re nothing without InMe’s fans.