(review n pix by neil crud)
Bags packed, basil plant sent to the babysitter, everything unplugged except the fridge. Tune on, turn in and fuck off… Blackpool here we come. This is the one time of year where Blackpool takes a breather from the hoardes of pissed up stag and hen nights, and relaxes, safe in the knowledge that thousands of cider swigging punks won’t be trying to kill everyone on sight. That’s the difference with the punk family; we are, in essence a family… Yes there are dickheads, but the majority of us were brought up on that same philosophy – have a good time, but cause the least suffering possible, it is almost the Hippy way but without being a stoned wanker all the tIme.