The Junction, Cambridge, Wed 30th August 2006 (04/09/06)

Brian:

Excellent, excellent night, as expected. Horribly modern venue, though at least you can expect decent sound I suppose. Here's a few hazy recollections:

The support was a local Cambridge band called Bomb Factory - "It seemed like a good idea at the time" the singer announced. A bunch of angry, middle-aged men playing fabulous Fall/80s type guitar stuff and who looked like they'd been going for years. "It's my first band, we've been going 18 months" the singer later told me in Subway. Website here.

Then for HMHB. "Good evening, we're The Grumbleweeds" announced Nigel and immediately ploughed into Fucking Hell It's Fred Titmus. An instant crowd pleaser, and those down the front continued moshing for pretty much the rest of the night really.

"Is that a full kit?" a somewhat impressed Nigel asked the guy in the Dukla strip - the guy pointed out the socks were unauthentic, but respect was still clearly due.

Some twat threw their empty plastic glass at the band as one song finished. Nige went over, picked it up, and with a nod of thanks poured his bottle of water into it, to drink from.

And then there was the fabulous tape player! It had been resting on Nigel's amp all night, and half way through 24 Hour Garage People he went over to play us some tunes 'from the attendant's iPod'. But as all fell completely silent, no manner of FF/Rew/Playing got it to work. Nevertheless Nigel listed them for us, receiving a huge cheer for each.

A quick chorus of 'Keep on rocking in Seaworld' in between songs gave us a teasing glimpse of some possible future classic, and later a solo rendition of the first two verses of Hair Like Brian May Blues. "Sorry mate, I can't remember any more of the words" he called down to the guy who'd repeatedly shouted out for it between EVERY song on the two Cornwall dates last year.

My final, rather worrying observation of the night was the new trend of bringing your 14 year old son/daughter along, who are 'really into them'. It's the sort of subject I can imagine Nigel himself penning a song about one day. Saves on babysitting fees I suppose.