I've got those plastic glass blues again. You get through an entire week with only the thought of a fine pint of Guinness to keep you going and they serve it to you in a plastic glass. Needing something to divert me from my thoughts of retribution for this act of heresy, I abandoned the bar area of King Tuts for the musical charms of Midas Fall, The Viragoes and Sweet Sweet Lies.
Midas Fall did get off to a shaky start and, for a band from Edinburgh, they seem to suffer from a curious lack of stagecraft. Shyness from singer Liz Heaton was perhaps the cause but all the audience really needed was patience as there was an enchantment in there just waiting to escape. It took about four songs - and this was a short support set so that didn't leave much time - but, from amidst the reverb, Ms Heaton's voice merged torment and beauty into something quite intoxicating. A spell was cast.
Apologies, but I feel a football analogy coming on now. The Viragoes took to the stage and just started putting songs straight into the back of the net. No fancy footwork just deadly goal scoring accuracy. Despite being a band at the start of their career, their time on stage played out more like a greatest hits set as one memorable song followed another. Standout tracks were the anthemic "Escape From Glasgatraz" and the wondrously catchy (and named) "Bojangles Junkie".
The headliners were Sweet Sweet Lies who hail from Brighton. They were smartly dressed chaps who looked like they would enjoy the many pleasures that can be derived from French mineral water. Performing with a fair degree of verve, they soon got some noisy support from the audience for their set of remarkably similar songs. An encore was, unsurprisingly, on the cards for them.
You're probably wondering what I was singing on the way home? No? I'll tell you anyway. I took it upon myself to sing "Bojangles Junkie" by The Viragoes. Three drunk women joined in on the second chorus. That's got to be the sign of a hit.