I'm home, I'm drunk, it's 4.11am.
Stunning night, a night of gladioli, dangling and lovely. A night of all-too-available bedsit loneliness (in a crowd), Salford Lads Clubbing and Gary Oldman quiffery. Prize for most striking creature must surely go to Ex, with her big (biiig) boots, braces and Tank Girl skinheaddiness, but CherieLaBombe drew all eyes with her definitive quiff-to-end-all-quiffs, particularly teamed with the stern-rimmed 'sing me a song' Moz-glasses.
Cabaret-wise, it was wonderful, but clearly the best deal all night was the music. It's perhaps testament to the wonderful Mozness of Moz that I spent the best part of six hours thrilling to his music, without (bizarrely) hearing some stuff I expected to hear. Oh well. They definitely playedFirst Of The Gang To Die and There Is A Light That Never Goes Out right at the end...
But, when I came in, they were playing Golden Lights and Boxers, both big favourites of mine. I guess Morrissey's canon's so huge (ooh, missus) there's always gonna be an enormous element of interpretation to it all.
Aaaanyway, it was lovely to see lovely Ex, Haus, CherieLaBombe, Sleaze, Deva, Tangent, Sad Robot (sans plushie suit but avec cravat-enhanced loveliness) and, of course, His Longstandingness, Xoc (currently snoring loudly on the settee).
It was all too beautiful. |
