Friday, February 23, 2007

Little Man Tate

K is taking a night off from gigging and has a girl's night in planned with the two youngest 'favourite nieces'. Accordingly Stuart and I are dropped off early for our night out (how splendid is this woman, first she feeds us a rather wonderful minestone stew and then she chaffeurs!). Having checked out the support band on MySpace (how did we survive without?), we're not convinced and decide a drink is the better option.

Big Hands is the perfect start and finish to a gig at the Academy usually, but either Stuart and I are getting old or the decision to boost the volume of the music for the second time (taking it from ear-splittingly loud if you are anywhere near the speakers, to downright painful) was a mistake. Judging by the way it prompted several other groups (of all ages) to similarly drink up and leave, it was probably the latter. It did seem to get dropped as we reached the door, but too late, custom lost.

Kro in contrast is somewhat more restrained and we have a happy couple of drinks before heading across the road.



Tonight's gig in the Academy 2, is Little Man Tate's biggest gig to date outside of their home town of Sheffield.

Coming on to Man I Hate Your Band, the venue is alive, the crowd are bouncing and chanting along. They may be from t'other side of the Pennines, but based on this reaction, their fanbase is spreading fast. It's easy to see why, given the passion and intensity that this band bring to the stage.

We were pretty impressed with them at the Xfm Winter Wonderland, but tonight proves they have what it takes to assume headline duties. Top tunes, stage presence, lyrics that beautifully capture shared experiences, passionate enthusiasm and a clear connection with the crowd - I reckon they'll do ok. Always exciting to see a band at the cusp of the next step up.

We head back over to Kro for another couple of rounds (very, very generous measures thanks to the lovely bar staff). The last of which is downed as soon as it's bought as K is on her way to pick us up and we're not where we said we'd meet her. Tossing down the Stoli and then rushing up Oxford Rd, I can feel the alcohol hitting the bloodstream. Hmmmm maybe we drank those last too a little fast...

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