(review by marcus peachey n neil crud pix by neil crud)
I stopped necking the liquid gold Carling to keep me sober enough to actually remember gigs I was reviewing and to make me almost human for the next day, so the thickness of Guinness should have kept me upright all night. Should!
Of course, watching Rafa’s men take out Juventus led me into a semi(final)-euphoric state and the black stuff flowed as freely as the gold and by midnight I was totally bollocksed and found it hard to remember my name, let alone how good the bands were. READ MORE »