Kieran and Bernie bought the tickets to see The Black Angels donkeys ago, so I'd almost forgotten about it, what with the stupidly busy work schedule, dogsitting for Wilf and the fancy housesit.
Gig was at the slightly revamped Borderline (lick of paint, toilets that finally work). Dark Horses were supporting (waxed lyrical about this lot in my Black Mountain post recently - the girl singer really is good, great voice, charismatic, lot of stage presence). But when the main attraction took the stage, I was just blown away. They were well worth the wait. (In fact, as they took the stage, I actually said "grrrrr" out loud, like some randy old Leslie Phillips in female form). Then the lightshow kicked in (Keith Hawkwind would have been proud of 'em) and it all got a bit Keith And Anita Do Morocco. Perfect. There was the added bonus of Blondie and The Old Punk turning up unannounced, freshly back from a couple of days in Glastonbury (verdict? "bloody awful tourist trap now - ruined"). A great night, which ended up in The Crobar and far too much booze for a school night...
(Postscript: Aforementioned busy schedule means I haven't blogged about seeing Sleepy Sun last week. Contenders for the crown of "Best Make-Out Music On The Planet", currently shared by Dead Meadow and Mr Lanegan. Flavours of Black Mountain, if the members of Black Mountain suddenly lost the plot and got off their tits on happy pills. Sleepy Sun - a band that look like they're having a psychedelic ball on stage. And all played through Huddersfield's finest:
We gave the world Last Of The Summer Wine and Stoner Amplification
