The last thing you said to me

Travelled down to Bristol last night to watch The Thrills with Lou. They were pretty good, although we were both quite disappointed that they only played for about an hour. Considering that they were the headline act, we felt a bit ripped off having paid ticket price purely to come and see just them. It's not even like they don't have the material, they've at least two albums worth of songs to choose from.

They rocked. They just didn't rock for long enough.

The second of the two support groups were an eight piece ensemble of some very weird looking people. From initial impressions it looked like an AA group just decided to form a band one day. A more mismatched and freaky looking group of people you'd be hard pressed to imagine (if, that is, you haven't seen the post-room scene in Men in Black II). Of particular note was the keyboardist, who could have stepped out of the library here at work. He had this pasty, 'don't see the sun very often' look, which would have quickly had him made leader of the archive monkeys (who, I hear, have a heirarchal system based on how close to translucent your skin is). Their music was good, technically sound, but too downbeat and too depressing to be played between the other two bands. You wonder at the choice.

The first of the two support groups introduced themselves as the Kooks. I'd never heard of them before, but the horde of teenage girls that surrounded us[1], seemed to recognise them (or were at least good at pretending). Standard stuff; guitar, bass, drums, vocal. Nothing immediately wrong with them (aside from the fact they all looked 12yo), but I wasn't inspired to rush out and hunt down their back catalogue.

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[1] I don't think I've ever felt so old at a gig. Early on -- before the headline act arrived -- I felt like I'd gatecrashed a school-trip.