Optionally entitled 'How I blagged a review because I am a pisshead' this review contains rather sketchy opinions on bands that deserved better but unfortunately got the dog ends of this drunkards attention. Having met up with Tim Davies at 3pm we both headed to the local Morrison’s to purchase 18 cans of beer and 2 bottles of Black Tower wine. Finding some sun drenched grassland we polished off 6 cans apiece and a bottle of the Tower before heading to The Alma Inn for a swift pint and a game of pool. Still feeling that tonight’s gig was going to be a struggle and suffering the consequences of stress I nipped to the bogs to empty the old Jacobs Ladder and try and stop myself hyper-ventilating. Bad thing breathlessness but my busy lifestyle, passion and inability to sleep catches up with me now and again and a good blow out gets things on an even keel for a while and therefore stops me falling over the psychotic precipice (a place I have plummeted to many years ago). Anyway - carrying less liquid I re-entered the main pub to receive a life time ban due to myself and Tim's drinking habits and it has to be said, constant piss-pot behaviour in the drinking establishment. Scotch brass Mags remove our recently poured beer (from our own cans) and away we went.

Upon walking (rather slowly) through Bolton a couple of chav wankers decided it would be fun to shout from their pathetic car and suggest that I and Tim were of a homosexual nature. I was thoroughly amused by this but Tim nipped out in front of oncoming traffic and collared the said youth promising him that if he wound down his swiftly closed window he would smack his teeth clean out. And yes you guessed it - the chav shit himself - what a surprise!

A chippy call, some more ale sank then into the Dog for a few jars, another bottle of wine and a sunbathe on the back stage. All is calm on the fungal front.

Bands arrived and time was swallowed up by the hungry maw of the clock and before I knew it The Senton Bombs were kicking off the show. The fact that these weren't on first and that they offered no argument when asked to do so due to another bands late arrival was well noted and the set they knocked forth was a fuckin' beauty. I had seen these lot once before supporting Riot Squad and The Epoxies in Poulton and was undecided as to what I actually thought. I knew they weren't bad but on tonight’s evidence I fully realise these are a band who are just perfect to throw onto any gig to alter the style and yet still maintain a high level of quality. The cover of 'The Brothels' by Rancid was a peach and I really do need to get some stuff on CD by this choice band. Really enjoyable and although slightly sozzled I was still aware enough to recognise quality.

After a few more bevvies the gig started to become hazy and from the next 3 performers all I can really patch together is the fact that The Dangerous Aces kept things steadier than usual and The Medicine Bow played a crazed set of bluesy punk that still had the odd frayed edge but does seem to be knitting itself together into the finished underpants of sound. Some semblance of sobriety was found during Jon Crocker and in truth this guy knocked my socks off with an up close and personal performance that oozed sincerity and confidence. It is a great bit of colour to splash into any punk gig and when this yankee doodle crooner ever visits these shores he's always welcome on a gig of the fungal ones.

Impact came next and I was hanging in there with dogged determination and the discovery of a couple of undrunk cans in my rucksack was a veritable bonus and kept me solid (that's my version anyway) through the set. Tim seemed to enjoy it from his comatose position and I thought the noise this crew burst forward was mighty fuckin' exciting. Last time I saw them was on a gig for myself in Bradford and though clears eyes I was amazed at the quality of tunes the band played. This was just as good and when bands like this can hardly get any gigs it really does make me realise where the punk mentality is at the moment. These lot could headline a show with some of the finest and not look out of place and I hope some fucker takes note of this and gives them a gig or two. You won't be disappointed.

And lastly the Scabs. Totally smashed and with frontman Steve in a more than usual angry mood these 4 fuckers from Penrith blazed through a set of brutal offensiveness and gutterpunk brilliance. These are one of my favourite outfits on the current scene and the song 'Bastard' encapsulates the cutting edge the band thrives on. Steve was in a troubled mood and threw mike stands, smacked a fan off the wall and grappled with several punters at the end. About five of us crashed to the floor several times and my badly bruised leg and aching back were evidence of a rough shindig by a crackin' band. The door security seemed ready for action and I considered a riotous finale but the show ended on a high and that was all that was needed.

And so a show that over-ran by a hour, contained several episodes of criminal damage not least the toilet door that was ripped from its hinges with obvious crazed lunacy and with some insane drinking the night ended in a blur but with the punk flame fuelled in the hearts of the ones that know the score. As a promoter I feel I let things go a trifle too much and any bands that feel let down by my behaviour I apologise. The one's who know me and where my passions thrive will realise a blow-out is needed sometimes to address the balance with the amount of shit one trawls through to get the punk message across. The overall turn-out was poor again and no doubt the Anti-Nowhere League gig tomorrow in Stockport will be empty early on but busy when the headline act hits the stage. Read into that what you will.

Some great photos of this gig can be seen on my comments page courtesy of that happy snapper Andrea. Cheers love.