Reviews

I walk into Nottingham’s Rescue Rooms secretly thinking that nothing will be able to top The Horrors gig here last year. But not only do Sweden’s finest gang of musicians and uber producers Miike Snow hurl egg on my face Read More

It’s Sunday bloody Sunday at Nottingham Rock City and, judging from the horribly sticky floor, it’s most definitely the night after the night before. After a somewhat bizarre double-whammy consisting of Shane Macgowan-esque vocal stylings Read More

Never mind Frightened Rabbit; Lucy and I are stunned when, upon entering Nottingham’s Bodega Social, we’re met by a solid wall of tall, sweaty men. The venue is totally packed but we somehow manage to claw our way to the front. Big props go out to the motley crew of tree surgeons, a personal trainer, an astrophysicist and, err, a student, who let Lucy stand in front of them to take pics. Yes, there is a God – for tonight at least.
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The crowd at Nottingham Rock City can – and do – reach newer lows every week. Take tonight for example: I thought I was being harsh taking bets on which idiot would decide to stand right in front of the girl in the wheelchair at the side of the stage, but when a crowd of morons turned up to do exactly that, even I was amazed.
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A lot can happen in two years. Things evolve, people change, even wars can start and end. For me, the roots of NG Magazine will always start with The Horrors, being the first act we covered at the end of March 2007. Back then, even though they’d sold out Nottingham’s Rescue Rooms like tonight, large sectors of the music press still regarded them with distaste, mainly because their hair was excessively large and faces overly made up in a neo-Goth stylee.
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I’m not really in the mood for hordes of screaming teens with their hands in the air tonight, but that’s firmly on the agenda when Chipmunk ( aka Chip Diddy Chip) hits Nottingham Rock City (or anywhere, I guess!). But first, the tone gets nice and grimey, blud. One of the original kings of the UK grime scene, Skepta, hits the stage to a cacophony of deafening screams. It’s awesome that these kids know who he is and greet him with the kind of reverence reserved for a headliner.
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This isn’t just a gig – this is a musical experience

Oasis have gone, for the time-being at least, leaving a big hole to fill. Yes it’s quite some challenge, but if any band is going to do it, it has to be their friends and protegees Kasabian. Tonight they own Nottingham Arena, transforming it into their very own ‘West Ryder Pauper Lunatic Asylum’ which is a nod to their third album that charted straight at number one. Attention to detail is impressive, even their roadies are dressed in white lab coats, with the word ‘sane’ emblazoned across their backs in red writing.
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