It had been going on for months. The hi-jacking of Club airtunes, the semi-serious countdown. A general air of 'the Black Keys are playing soon and we are very excited'. So last Wed' off we went on the London Underground to darkest Brixton. Gastronomically, we got off to a bad start. However, the homeless man in dirty MacDonalds - who seemed to favour our company - at least had the decency to ask us to give him money 'for crack' rather than putting us under any false illusions. He was a remarkably toothless chap but honest nonetheless.
Goals undashed, we careered along to the academy. Support band, name instantly forgotten, were rubbish. Then le Keys Noir entered stage right and times were happy. Until it became apparent that Carling Academy, with all of their chat about live music, had neglected to plug anything in. Worst sound ever. It made no sense. Gigs there are meant to have loud on their side, no?
I could see drummer Patrick Carney (who has an uncle named Ralph that used to play Sax with Tom Waits) kicking the shit out of his drums, I could hear that it was awesome, yet no nice, concerty loudness was there to be found. It was a tragedy of Shakespearean proportions. Plus I hate Carling.
Black Keys - 8
Brixton Academy - 2
JaLucy - need haircuts
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