A Review Less Ordinary.
The Full Moon was totally eclipsed tonight as Richard Buxton’s Hippy Haze army took over for this reunion for staff members, press and acts from the Easter Weekend Festival, where ‘artists’ showcased their worthless talent once again, and the crowd once again pretended to listen with passion and excitement whilst necking back whatever alcohol they could to numb the pain their ears were put through.
Opening the open mic night was, of course, Hollie Vee, minus the hubkaps (probably stolen by Radical’s Rising’s Scouse photographer Daniel Rowlands), and next up on the Full Moon stage went Brains For Breakfast, and it would seem he had actually eaten his brains for breakfast, as he stumbled up on stage and proceeded to stumble through a few songs he clearly had never rehearsed, opting to mumble as fast as possible during one particular Irish folke song in the hope people would mistake his petty slurs for quick-witted lyric. Slanderous. He then took up his final song by playing some crazy guitar several sizes too small for him- a Makelele or some such French footballer sounding name.
Emilio Pinchi then realised his name was far too destined to be famous and so rose to the stage probably wearing his favourite colourful socks- which are in fact black(??) to show off yet again, after already spending half an hour in the 6 Towns Radio studio boasting about his place in LIPA by singing songs about fruit pastels, daytime stars and ghosts. That boy’s got a shock coming to him, however, when his beautiful hair gets stripped and sold for parts by those lovely Liverpudlians.
The boys from Six Towns clearly turn up just to ‘show their faces’, (though heaven knows why as they are one ugly bunch) and couldn’t even be bothered to play any songs before they make a swift get away. Fair play to them, though, they have got work to do in finding a new drummer (he was obviously not all that ugly and realised he was the poster boy stuck behind the drum kit). Being a lover of mum jokes, it becomes frustratingly difficult to stop oneself from letting loose on 3’s A Riot guitarist Toby Simcock when he declares that his dear mother is hanging around Newcastle for a bit so he can have a lift home. Apologies Toby, but I’m bet she…. No, be a good little reviewer.
As the Radical’s Rising team hammer their way through the full set list of cocktail pitchers available at The Full Moon, good old Aaron Mobberley takes a place on the stage so he can play folke boy yet again. Aaron mate you can’t even sing, just stick to root notes on bass yeah. Giving that same old excuse of having a croaky throat- you’re going to have frogspawn in your throat if you don’t get rid of that frog soon!
Some guy in glasses- which he swears are prescription- keeps hanging around and pretending he’s Columbo or summat in a rather fetching raincoat, but this particular Columbo opts not to play any songs, funny really, you would think he would be happy to just Get Along singing his song.
By this point, the Radical’s Rising lads are cruising through their last pitcher on the menu, and go full hog and purchase another two more; you know, to be on the safe side when last orders are called. Amy Parker and Ben Steele sneak into The Full Moon at a rather late hour, and thrash out a few tunes in their cunning, extremely out of harmony harmonic tone, and then proceed to play in the corner of The Full Moon unplugged- crimes does that pair ever shut up?!
Some band going under the name Ruby Dukes hop on stage to play out a final rehearsal set before their debut gig supporting Columbo on Friday May 4th. The Star Wars joke will not be used here, rest assured. Though guitarist Josh clearly thinks he’s Luke Skywalker, prancing about the stage as though his guitar is a light saber.
All in all, it was a terrible waste of time. And to top it all off, this is one hell of a hangover. Bad times, man.