Sunday Matinee Nicely jumpered skinny students suck feverishly on white-pack Silk Cut surrogate tits and titter tweely at every feeble onstage witticism. Oh! It’s all so oh-so coy and warm and happy-clappy cosy! This ever-so-slappable crowd of shit-eating indie-schmindie sheep … [cont…]

All Three Shows It’s been a while since I travelled further than a spin on the DART to catch a band, but then again, it’s been a while since I’ve heard a band this damn good. Even grimey Manchester can’t … [cont…]

Sunday Night “Take a second of the day and think of all the things which we have done this year…” I know you’ve heard twice as many end-of-year summaries than a sane person could reasonably stomach by now, but this … [cont…]

Saturday People just don’t like Belle & Sebastian, they’re hopelessly devoted to them. Among tonight’s collections of hipsters, Habitat squares, C86 revivalists and out-patients, there are people who’ve trekked from America* and Japan. Why? Because the Belle & Sebastian songbook … [cont…]