Last Thursday, I was lucky enough to get tickets to see the Black Kids at one of my favourite venues ever, the Thekla. The history of the Thekla is actually quite interesting – originally built to transport lumber, she was found abandoned in Sunderland, and was sailed round to Bristol in 6 days and 6 nights in August 1983. Go read Wikipedia if you want to know more, this isn’t a school lesson! Anyway, I love the Thekla, because its such a random venue, where you go down into the hull to watch the bands.
I was going to go with my friend Rachel, but she was so ill that week, so I faced going alone. I know I ought to get used to going to gigs on my own, but it still feels very odd, so I asked my friend Ruffle to come with me. He had never heard of the Black Kids, but still came along with me because it has worked in the past where I have persuaded him to come with me to see Regina Spektor in Feb 2007.
The support band was called The Magistrates, and they were… OK. I guess. I mean, I wouldn’t go to a gig specifically to see them but I wouldn’t be too offended if they were supporting. Which they were. I honestly don’t have that much I can say about this band. Um. The lead singer was wearing a t-shirt dress I’m 90% sure I’ve seen before in Topshop. Thats about it.
Anyway. The actual gig. The band came on and ran through their album as if it was on shuffle. I do love the album, and was trying to dance as much as I could (you try dancing surrounded by big sweaty blokes. Ew.) but even so, it would have been nice to hear a new song, or even a random cover version (and not that version of “Damn, I Wish I Was Your Lover” because I’m not a fan). There was little in the way of banter, which, yeah, I don’t know. Its good, because it means they can get through the set list more, so they can play more songs, but its a bit crap because firstly it feels like they’re just coming on to do their thing then go and secondly because I like a bit of banter. It breaks up the night a bit. I guess theres quite a bit of pressure on the band to be funny, but lets face it, they only need to have a standard set of lines to use at each gig because most people are only going to see it once.
Before the gig, Ruffle and I went up to the wood panelled bar upstairs, because I needed to drink a lot (I had a really bad sore throat, was headachey and could hardly breathe, so I had munched on ibuprofen all day, and drank about 5 pints of diet Coke at the gig – I was just so determined to go to this gig!) and were sat near the little staged area. This group of people wandered in, slightly hipsterish but that was the general look of the others that were there. There was one girl however, with frizzy blonde hair, and giant Deirdre Barlow style glasses (yeah, you know the ones I mean). She wore a grubby white t-shirt with no bra and a tartan high waisted skirt. I laughed to Ruffle about her, and probably told him she was his. (You don’t know how to play “Yours”? Poor you)
So that was one of the band. Yes, we were sitting right by the band, and instead of being all starry, I made fun of someone. I was ill, what can I say?
Anyway, I really enjoyed the gig, as did Ruffle, and would definatly go again, but I would hope that there was a little more than just running through their only songs!