Another flipping end of year music list....

I suppose it's customary for people to do their 'best of' lists at this time of year. I don't really like the list format so I'll do my own merry thing, thank you. Here's what I enjoyed this year:

For sheer “I would never have expected to ever be at a gig like this. My eyes hurt and I want to cry a little bit until the music makes my brain melt and I can't cry any more because I am just rolling around on the floor dribbling” experiences, it was hard to beat Fucked Up's gig at Club Academy in February.

If your dream is watching a topless, bald, screaming, fat, sweating Canadian man who looks like he'd be suited to hairy bear gay porn while a baying crowd, including a freakishly tall fella in a wrestling mask thrashes all around you, then this was definitely the gig for you. Or a bizarre nightmare that would have you waking at 3am, screaming and sweating and strangely aroused. I accidentally touched singer Father Damien's hirsute back as he marauded past me and I tried to prevent myself from being stamped on. It was how I'd imagine an Orang-utan who'd just gone through a car wash would feel. Only Father Damien would be more angry and shouty.



Going to see Brakes at the Ruby Lounge in April and discovering that the toilet guy wasn't working was amazing. Finally I could go for a wee during a song I didn't enjoy as much as the other songs that were played, and not worry about having to pay him to look at my penis and spray dubious liquids on my hands afterwards, the bottle probably topped up by his own special aftershave produced while comparing the size of weeing mens cocks.
Hopefully 2010 will see the cult of the Toilet Guy retreat back into it's natural habitat of awful bars in London that I'd never go into.



I very much enjoyed the mullet-wielding joker attempting to blag his way into the Ruby Lounge ahead of me back in March, adamant that he was on the guest list for the Damo Suzuki gig. He tried the 'jokey rapport' with the doorman approach. He tried the 'being unconvincingly angry' approach. He even tried the silent scowl approach (presumably while his brain ticked over desperately grasping for another way he could force his way in without paying the 8 quid). Finally he gave the "Well, Damo will let me in when he gets here, he is my friend you know?" line and flounced off. I didn't see him again that evening.

Or ever again come to think of it. Perhaps he was swallowed whole by his terrifying imagination that had already convinced him he was a friend of a 70s Kraut Rock legend. I'd like to think he was next seen trying to pass himself off as a sound man for Girls Aloud, only to instead steal a pair of Nadine Coyle's skimpy pants and set off on a mazy run across a car park with them on his head chased by camera crews and security guards, only to eventually trip over his own feet and collapse sobbing like the broken idiot he is. The camera crews could focus really close on his crying face, to watch the tears sting his eyes and the skimpy pants will have slipped slightly into his gaping and useless mouth. It would be like a really weird and upsetting episode of Benny Hill. Heat Magazine would probably implode if this ever happened, so it can only be a good thing.

I think I've strayed away from the real purpose of what I was supposed to be writing about somehow. Maybe a list was a better idea. Okaaaay:


The Good:

Islington Mill – more venues like this in Manchester please (and, yeah, I know it's in Salford, calm down all you retentive people)...

The Deaf Institute and it's marvellous mirror ball – my favourite venue in Manchester currently...

Not being able to hear for 3 days after seeing the Secret Machines – it was completely worth it...

Puressence at the Manchester Apollo – the biggest gig they've ever done and the best I've seen them do in 15 years.

Durutti Column performing the amazing “Paean to Wilson” in a tent on Albert Square. And I got my curmudgeonly face on the Culture Show cameras at this gig, even if I didn't see Miranda Sawyer...

"Before You Left" by At Swim Two Birds - album of the year and further confirmation that Roger Quigley is the best singer-songwriter in Manchester...

The Bad:

Cage the Elephant. I won't slag them off anymore, just go back and read the review...

The 50th time I've seen The Fall turned out to be a complete disaster (true to form though, thankfully the 51st time was great)...

A couple of nonsensical club launch nights where it wasn't really clear what was being launched or why a seemingly completely random of collection of bands were on the bill. Naming no names...

And, of course, Toilet Guy at the Ruby Lounge...


The Ugly:

I think we're back on Father Damien from Fucked Up now aren't we?


Band to watch out for in 2010:

Flange Circus. What else did you expect me to write?



Thank you to both of my regular readers and all your encouragement. I promise that next year I will actually do this much more regularly. And many thanks to those of you I regularly have the pleasure of going to gigs with – don't go changing.

Happy New Year!