As C3-PO would say; “I have a bad feeling about this”. When a band brings on their own tech for the sound check, you know you are on for a journey beyond the reach of even the most gifted proctologist. 10m before the gig, I have already breathed in enough dry ice to turn my lungs into a Yes concert.

The Dandy Warhols play a set for the next hour of amorphous, West Coast sludge; peppered with the odd cracker. ‘We Used To Be Friends’ is good, but the crowd kicks off with ‘Bohemian Like You’, a few thousand odd people howling the ‘hoo hoo hoo” is an exhilarating feeling.

Break both songs down to their constituent parts though; and you can observe this salient point: this is a band who has built their whole career being arsey about other bands. They have an imperiousness about them that is majorly irritating. Zia McCabe stands at the keyboard; like a bored North Korean general watching nuclear missiles go past. To answer your question, she didn’t play the keyboards topless.

There was however, a massive tit on stage in the form of Courtney Taylor. Looking like Richard Ashcroft moonlighting as a Scouse binman, he fretwanks with his back to the audience. He makes a joke about Pete Doherty (dangerous satire) and asks us have we been for a swim (in The Mersey? No.)

The Dandy Warhols are a band running on fumes. They expect maximum adoration for their maximum snark. No amount of dry ice can conceal the proverbial ‘nasty piece of work’.

@KevMcCready