Wednesday started with a bit of art as N & I dropped in on one of Fiona's private views, which was conveniently just round the corner from The Lexington, where I was going to see Beach Baby. First up were Tones, who were young, rocky and probably my favourite of the night, then came Babeheaven who had an ethereal electro kinda sound and a lead singer who seemed effortlessly lovely; Beach Baby were one of those bands I'd seen supporting someone and thought deserved further investigation, although for a lot of their set I couldn't really work out why I'd thought that as they seemed fairly MOR, not helped by a pretty moribund crowd (apart from one very drunk Frenchman), then right at the end they pulled out two or three really good songs, which I guess must have been what drew me to them last time.
On Thursday I was much more certain about the band I was going to see : Broken Hands at Dingwalls. As with Tones the night before, I had a vague feeling I may have seen the first support, Tangerines, before: what they played wasn't quite my thing, there was an Americana edge to it which felt a bit pastichey, but they nonetheless seemed very good at it. Dolomite Minor were more up my street but Broken Hands were definitely a cut above: they had filled the stage with enormous silver umbrellas, enhancing the ideas of dissociation and liminal states of consciousness that already exist in their music, and although they have some more average songs, as well as some real stand-outs, Dale has enough energy and stage presence to carry the crowd through.
On Friday I met up with TQS for a couple of post-work drinks, sitting out on a square in all that new development behind Kings X, before he hopped on the train back to Sheffield, then headed home for a bit before going out to Negative Creep at Nambucca, a rocky bar up on the Holloway Road I've wanted to check out for ages, with an Italian friend. It was billed as a grunge night, although it seemed to be all kinds of early 90s rock and alternative: it wasn't rammed but had a friendly crowd of regulars and there was a bit of dancing.
Yesterday N & I went to an afternoon gig, back at the Lexington: the Loud Women collective, whose event we'd really enjoyed before, were putting on a gig that was specifically parent-and-child friendly, so there was face-painting available, dancing competitions, swearing edited out of songs and some bands pared down their noise levels too. I'd been most keen to see Argonaut, who had probably modified themselves the most, so I slightly regretted not having taken another recent opportunity to see them. The Wimmin's Institute were very funny again and Crack Foxes were the only band new to us, a rocky trio doing mostly covers (Hole, Elastica, Nirvana). Piney Gir was headlining, although she slightly suffered from kids who had been there from near the start (they were mostly 2-6 year olds) having worn themselves out and needing to be taken home before she came on, although she remained her usual, perky self.