Last thing you need to Par Carking at the UEA at a sell out gig.
Honestly, the Parking Like A Twat In Norfolk facebook page would have a field day... although they'd have to rename it Parking Like A Complete Cunt In Norfolk.
Parking Horizontally/Diagonally over 2 bays. Parking over the lines to take up 2 bays. Where 2 bays are front-to-back, parking over the line so you cover off 2 bays on 2 lanes.
Twatters!
So, after 20 mins and some stressful multiple-point turns, The Xym parks pefectly...
...just in time to sample the support band Bo
Now, they'd just finished a track as I entered, when I was espied by Spooky Joolz, and hoisted onto a plinth, giving a bird's eye view of a triplicity of Sadako's out of the well.
"This band is fucking shite!" quoth the Ghostbuster.
"This is our last song" quoth the balladeers
"Well, I'll soon find out..." quoth The Xym
Holy Mary Mother Of Christ, what the buggery fuck is that unholy racket? By Satan's farty breath, this is by far the worst thing one has ever heard! Aparently, they are a psychadelic acid punk metal act - but not a very talented one. All the death screeching of all the Bain Sidhe's in hellish torment whilst scraping their talons down a chalkboard could never sound as bad as this!
You know when old folks say "That's not music, that's just noise"? Well, this band is the epitome of that statement. Skeletal asian men in dresses leaping about, screaming, and bashing/swinging guitars about in a discordant fashion with no rhythm, tune or any attempt at harmony does not music make. It was, literally, just noise.
Anyhow, the aural rape ended after an interminably loooooooong coda, and the general consensus?
"What a fucking pile of crap that was! An absolute shower of shite!". I've yet to find ANYONE who liked their performance².
So, now we wait for The Cult! Ooo, there goes Marky heading to the bar... blanking us despite shoutage... Ooooh, and wotserface (also blanking us)... and her! Phwoar! (also blanking us) - damn this eyeline evading elevated platform!
"BTW Xym, there's a curfew at 10 now. It said on the website"¹
"Are you sure? Gigs usually finish after 11 - you sure you weren't looking at Sunday?"
"Nope"
"But I has the set list here - they'll go way over 10pm!"
And here come the others to get the front! Sister & Brother-In-Law (who'll double back later for glitter), New Romantic and the missus, Beers, The Phwoarder... and then into your head pops inappropriateness as the little black dress suggests a cute Wednesday Adams, and suddenly it's all wrong! Wrong, wrong, wrong, Xym! On way too many levels!
Stay here on this little plateau, o'erlooking the unobscured view of the stage, away from inappropriate commentary about hot Pretties.
But here comes The Cult! And oooooh! David Beckham is on guitar for the ladies! Oh wait - that's Billy Duffy looking suspiciously like Beckham.
And heeeeere's Ian! Is that Ian? Looks like a fat Andrew Eldritch. Or mayhap an undead Michael Hutchence. With a triplicity of aminal tails a-dangling from his belt - looks like The Xym may have to add a new addition to his Ant-scarves!!
And we're straight into the entire Electic Albumen. Wild Flower! Peace Dog! Lil' Devil! Aphrodisiac Jacket! Electric Ocean! Bad Fun! King Contrary Man! Love Removal Machine! Born to...
...oh wait - Born To Be Wild was a cover. They've ditched it, and replaced it with Zap City off the alternative version of Electric, Peace!
And finally, we end the Album session with Outlaw and Memphis Hip Shake, before the band take a break as a remix of Elemental Light is played.
Then they're back for the Hits part of the set! And we kick off with Rain! Honey From a Knife! Sweet Soul Sister! Luci...
...oh noes! They've dropped Lucifer from the set list! So we carries on with Embers! Phoenix! Rise! And, of course, She Sells Sanctuary to end it on!
But it's now almost 10, and as Spooky Joolz and the Scotch have to leave, up returns The Cult for an Encore.
Aaaaand we're into everyone's favourite Spiritwanker! Hold on... they were down to open the encore with Nirvana. Another song lost.
But as Ian finishes psychonautical manitou based ballads, he whips off his shades - well, fuck me ragged - it was an old Jonathan Creek all along! Alan Davies, all old, apologizing for the 10pm curfew so they can only sneak in one last song. "What's the worst that can happen?" he asks - "locked in a room to be raped by Alan Partidge?"
And so we end on an epic performance for all the Moon Queens, as he belts out a blinder of Sun King,
And then it's all over. Ian has tossed tons and tons of tambourines into the crowd (why, I felt disappointed to be one of the few unable to leave with one of the plethora of cheap tambos handed out hand over fist) and everyone is smiling! But as some people sneak off without their glitter hairspay, I'm still able to catch up with many an acquaintance.
● Aha! Marko! Everyone should be rallying around me! Stay here in visual awareness
where they knoweth mine location (at this point unaware some had snuck off rather than suffer
The Xym, afore Marko snuck off too on the pretext of Finding Peoples instead of stuck with Xym)
● Aha! The Swan (note to self: must lend them that new Goldfrapp album. And get
that previous Goldfrapp album I lent 'em back)
● Aha! Thingummybob who used to go out with wotserface who I ain't seen in years
● Aha! Paulina! So... less about how great The Cult were, and more Numan Knotting
'em in November. Oh, and present Paula with his Birthday Foxx we gots him in May
to be presented as a present in July... so, only 3 months late!
● Aha! Them, them, him and her!
● And outside there's a couple more. I even gets presented by The Artist with a
singlature of cannabis leaf that had been discarded on the floor by the tour bus.
Right, that's me snorted - off home to heat it on a spoon to get a restfull nights
morphean slumbers!
General verdict on The Cult: Awesome! Brilliant! Nowhere near as crap than they were a year a so ago! 10/10. Only complaint is,as with most live performances, the re-arrangement of the lyrics, so you try and sing along, and the singer is shunting bits about and changing lyrics. Slightly disappointed that he'd changed the iconic shamanic wail at the start of Spiritwanker to a generic grunt, but hey-ho, you can't have everything.
And Ian doesn't half bark a lot! Brother Wolf, indeed!
Universal verdict on Bo Ningen²: Shitter than a shitbox shitted in with shitty shit. Absolute crap. Talentless twattery. Will never, ever see them again, and you couldn't pay me enough to obtain one of their seedy CDs.
All in all - a top night out (apart from the support, which I was lucky enough to hear only 1 song by)
¹ NEWS JUST IN! SEEMS THE CURFEW WAS IN PLACE BECAUSE THE UEA HAS A STUDENT CLUB NIGHT - AND THEY HAD TO CURTAIL THE CULT SO THE STUDENTS COULD HAVE THEIR POKÉMON NIGHT...
...YEAH, COME TO THE UEA! BECOME A PROFESSOR OF POKÉMON! COME TO THE FRESHER'S (POKÉ)BALL AND DRINK YERSELF SENSELESS AND SHAG A STUDENT! STDs - GOTTA CATCH 'EM ALL!
POKÉMON? POKE YER MUM, MORE LIKE. IF SHE'S A FITTIE MILF COUGAR BEAVER IN CATTON PARK. OR SOMETHING...
² UPDATE! I HAS COME ACROSS TWO, YES TWO PEOPLES WHO LIKED BO NINGEN! I CAN ONLY GO OFF THE LAST TRACK, WHICH THE LIKERS ADMIT "DID GO ON A BIT". MAYHAP I SHOULD LISTEN TO SOME OTHER TRACKS FOR A MORE INFORMED JUDGEMENT...
...OR MY DISLIKE COULD COULD ALSO BE THAT AT FIRST GLANCE BO MINGEN LOOKS A BIT LIKE HO MINGE(N), AND THUS PROVING A DISAPPOINT ON THE VAGINAL FRONTAGE. OR SOMETHING.
...ACTUALLY, THE MORE I THINK ABOUT IT... PERHAPS THAT'S WHAT THE FOX SAYS!
♪ BO NINGEN NINGEN NING NINGEN, BO NINGEN NINGEN NING NINGEN, BO NINGEN NINGEN NING NINGEN, WHAT THE FOX SAY? ♫
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