Reef

I emerge from Mornington Crescent (remember them?) tube into a dirty wet windy night and hurry on down to the pub down the side of Koko to find it shut and the security guy loitering a Koko doorway tells me it's going to be turned into flats. Muttering to myself about where are all these people going to go drinking when all the old pubs are flats I text Pete to tell him change of plan and go to the Lyttleton Arms across from the tube which is always packed. Is so this time and 10 minutes later I finally get served just as Pete walks in the door. Good timing mate. After a swift pint we go into Koko and swagger over to the guest list window looking down at the paying punters. Pete's fixed the Reef guitarist's computer so we're on the guezzie which is great as the tickets are a pricey 28 quid each. A minor issue in that Pete's name isn't on the list and as the guitarist's girlfriend is nearby Pete explains and the guitarist is summoned who then reassures us that he'll get the manager to add us as there's been some sort of email related mix up. Everyone disappears and after a forlorn 20 minutes waiting in the foyer enviously watching loads of other liggers getting in for free we finally give up and ask how much tickets on the door are. At the £28 we decide to go out into the wet where we haggle a tout down to 40 quid for 2 tickets. Usual grumbling about being robbed by the tout but we feel the same. We've missed the support band although heard them whilst waiting inside and not sure we exactly missed anything special.

Toseland are apparently fronted by an ex professional motorbike racer and the "likeable Yorkshireman’s band sound like a ballsy Reef, twinned with a hint of Bon Jovi and topped off with the swagger of a polished Airbourne. And they’re revving their way to a town near you right now…". Says it all really.

Reef come on to a lot of applause by the ageing crowd and hurtle into a fine set that ranges from heavy rock in a Led Zep style to ballads to a little bit of late 80s indie and finishing with a druggy head nodding heavy shoe gazing finale. It could be AC/DC if they had been from the British West Country and of that era or as the more discerning Pete says Split Enz. The drummer is pretty standard drummer fare but keeps the whole show driving forward. Bassist is big grey haired big bearded old school heavy rocker hippy style with a punchy bass at times seeming to send the reverb up to 11 (as these bands tend to do) shaking through the dance floor. Singer long haired classic rock shouty screecher but all in tune. Our guitarist mate who forgot about us after finding the rider strikes classic cock rock poses whilst playing a very competent set of big riffs and solos. All in all a great set which they obviously enjoyed and appreciated the crowd. They're on a 20th anniversary tour and in a way seemed a bit of a pastiche of a rock band but not quite Spinal Tap and maybe the look's put me off whilst the music was in the main good bar the ballads. So after what was probably their best song the aforementioned finale we shuffle out through the crazy exit queue into the wet night and the Northern Line. £30 lighter than I expected to be - £20 to the tout and then another tenner to Pete as he didn't have enough money for a ticket and drinks. I guess it was worth it and I'll have the tenner back next week after footie.

Post script is that Pete emails me the next day saying that the guitarist has sent him text saying sorry about the tickets. I reply saying as well as sorry he ought to send you forty quid. Or hold his hard disk to ransom next time he visits Pete's computer repair shop.