The Young Ones

It's a rare night out with each other for me and Debbie and we spend it watching the band that we saw the time before our last time. If you understand that. Anyways it's the boy Simmo's birthday bash at the Tooting Tramshed and after trekking to Balham tube in inappropriate footwear (heels and creepers, you work out who wore which) we take the short journey 2 stops south to the home of the TPF and arrive at the venue to be greeted by Simon and son outside and his daughter hanging with the adults inside. A stop for a chat with the young un reliving the recent FA Cup success, the boy's a Gooner, and then into the frenzy of the Tramshed. OK at just after 8 on a Wednesday it's hardly buzzzing but we've missed the first band Riddles who sounded fun. Apparently volume turned down by sound engineer leads to a bit of shoving then spitting on the amps. Rock and roll indeed!

We meet Simon and Jules' friends and soon a few other friends arrive. After opening his presents (the predictable cycling media) the next band come on who we saw a month ago at the Windmill on our romantic night out, with Simon playing the gooseberry i.e. hairy and rolling around a fair bit. Bellwether entertain us with a tight hard ranging from grunge to blues. Reminiscent of the Libertines at times. The atmosphere's not as intense as at the Windmill probably cos we're in a large tramshed with the evening light streaming through the skylights and not many people in yet. The opposite to the Windmill in fact - they even advertise that they don't sell draught after 11.30pm, something to do with taking too long which seems to go against the wisdom of centuries of pubbing. So they aren't quite as exciting as the first time but what is hey?

Next it's singing happy birthday dear siiimonnn as he blows the two candles (that is not a euphemism) but we rule out the bumps talk of which brings back painful memories for Pete. The the greatly anticipated King TV take the stage and launch into an energetic set of garage punk rock that gets the crowd jigging about somewhat, well we were, although some are still sat down near the stage as if it's a Roy Harper gig. Bloody folky influences. It's pathetic. Maybe cos it's still bright light out and therefore in the gig.

After debating with Pete and Wendy the pros and cons of cheese and chairs at Glastonbury we don't reach a conclusion before the main act Dignan Porch are on. The 6 piece includes female percussion of drums and tambourine (sometimes swapped for a very short but swirly keyboard. They serve a good set of tight and finessed art rock in a Suede like manner. Tuneful interspersed with a fair bit of hippyish tambourining and then guitar hero rocking out goes down well with the punters who are encouraged to stand up and go to the front. As I think a fair few are their mates they do as they're told and the atmosphere finally takes off somewhat. A great midweek set which would be helped by a rawer sound in my humble opinion.

After the encore, I think there was one but they didn't actually leave the stage, we have a last small glass of tipple for the road before going our separate ways. Thanks to everyone there for making such fitting comments on who the various bands sounded like all of which I've forgotten. We journey back on the trusty Northern Line and splash out both financially and environmentally on a taxi driven by a cheery driver who was protesting today about the new metered taxi service. Radicalised black cab drivers. Wolfie Smith would have had a few choice words about that!

RIP RIK

Headliners

The Gang. Although I don't think the amorous couple were with us. Not sure why it's sepia as didn't choose that setting on the phone. Guess it knew how old Simon is now.

Simon blowing candles