After so many years of dancing around bonfires on the hills in Ireland to the irrepressible music of HMHB we finally decided to take a trip across the water to see them live. The town I come from - Drogheda - has crap record shops and doesn't even stock any of their albums. I once went into CD World and asked for them and the assistant said, "Half Man Half Biscuit? Who sings that?" But a hard core division of Biscuit fans live here and we have been frightening farmers/cows/sheep/cops with our trusty ghetto-blaster all over the country. We prefer the open spaces where we can er sip herbal tea and jump up and down quite a bit. Anyway I don't know too many places you could go into and hear Dickie Davies eyes or Joy Division Oven Gloves around here. O yeah, none. So myself, Big Muz and Jock stayed in the Premier Travel Inn (sorry about the wine stained sheets) for 2 nights and after the Swiss result on Wednesday we needed cheering up. On Thursday we took the famed ferry across the Mersey to visit the Wirral and see if it was still shaking. In Birkenhead we spotted the underground railway and just had to go back to Lime street for the novelty of it all, get off for a second, go back again and then get the ferry back once more. On the way to the gig that nite we had a disagreement about the route so Me and Big Muz went separate ways. Jock said -"I hate when you two do this" and forgot to follow either of us. He made it to the gig by a complete fluke as he has a hopeless sense of direction. I thought Marlowe played an excellent set, spurred on by the powerful sax playing of Chloe Mullett (sorry, dunno where those two dots are for over the "e" on this keyboard). From The Light At the End Of The Tunnel to Trumpton Riots I was spellbound. What a gig! More than a gig - a religious experience. Great versions of C.A.M.R.A. Man and For What Is Chatteris. Brilliant singalong to Paintballs Coming Home, I think the whole audience joined in. Loved I think we're Alone now too. Saw Loop giving it loads during JDOG. Jock was lucky to survive the whole gig. Around Restless Legs the security guard caught him filming with the camcorder he snuck in down his (stripey) cacks. He wasn't thrown out, thanks to his pleading that he came from Ireland just for the gig. Next day we amazingly didn't miss the plane home (close call though) and brought with us memories that will last forever. No, longer.