City Hobgoblins

By the time I had packed, repacked and finished off all the little bits of nonsense I felt needed attending too, it was half two in the morning. This left an hour to kip before I had to get up again and heave my rucksack to the bus station for five. I slept some of the way, until the bus filled up with more people.

On arrival in Manchester I slogged it over to the railway station to use the left luggage, before taking a snoop around Manc. Haven't been for ages. It was a lovely day, so after a while I collected my stuff and went to read my book in some park and wait to meet Quine and Ang. Traffic was a bit daft cause Robbie Williams was playing up the road. Not enough to interfere with getting to Danzig on time though.

Danzig opened with two new songs, that sounded frankly, more than a little ropy. Then to everyone's relief he announced "that was enough of that new shit" and proceeded to play all his best material. Result. Doyle stormed out to bash through some misfits Numbers, although to be fair the other guitar player Tommy Victor was carrying it. Doyle was just there to look like Skeletor and bounce around like some kind of Misfit spirit guide.

As expected, Danzig was a surly little bastard. Complaining throughout the set about this, that and the other. Which is fine. He has a strong enough catalogue to excuse his diva tendencies. He finished with a blinding Die, Die, My Darling before storming off stage in a massive cream puff about somebody filming the set on their phone.

[Pic:Arndale Book and Magazine exchange, Shudehill, Manchester]