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The MacBeth, London N1. Jan 19th '07
Question. Where do old London Punks go to die? Answer; They Don't, they move to the East-end and run a pub, living in secultion, running these fine establishments with a fist-of-iron, begrudgingly putting the bands on that bring in the booze-drinking punters, and where a drink on the house is as rare as a eel-pie without the eel...or the pie for that matter! The Macbeth is a jammed, smoky den of young punks and older rockers. It's just the kind of place that sweats rock n' roll perfect for a Friday night gig. A giant spinning disco ball hangs dormant from the ceiling just in front of the stage. Goodfinger insists on it's 'revolvemnet' splintering the dim red lighting all over the dancing crowd below. Seems the power of some well placed listings on the Londonist has brought out the masses. With faces rammed up against the stage gazing up in wondrous anticipation at Miss Scrappy, Goodfinger pound Macbeth, taking no prisoners as they go barely coming up for air. Not more than a couple of verses into the opener "Taste of danger' they have the crowd reeled in, showering them with the always dark 'Love Digitale', the up-lifting 'Radio Perfecto', and bringing the house down with a climatic 'Sounds of the city'.The house erupted, especially the pack of eighteen-year-old girls who'd danced their way through the whole show and rightly calling out for an encore. How could anyone turn them down? Scrappy had the band finish up with an appropriately tight cover of Squeeze's "Take Me, I'm Yours," on which Mike's drumming was particularly ace. Once down from the stage, a line of newly converted Finger-lovers clambered orderly to meet Miss Scrapp and purchase all the GF booty they could. In celebration, the oldest and most senior of the of Punks running the venue had lined-up a slew of drinks for the band and with hand in air, proposed a toast to; 'Goodfinger- the best band we've 'ad on 'ere. Come back and play again soon!! After that, the drinks just kept coming, the night becoming hazier as it went on. What happened after that, we may never know. Check tomorrow's headlines! JK
Bar Rumba, London. Jan 17th '07.
We decend down into the bowels of the bar. The thump of a kick-drum, the smell of spilt whiskey, the crimson haze of stage lights-this is the spot. I offer to buy drinks for my new friends from the Londonist.com. Mike #2 refuses, turns to the barman, orders a pitcher of beer, then shoves it into my hand. First round's on me. What about you? Can I pour you a glass? Nah, off the stuff since New Year. Apparently, Mike #2's gone sober. Apparently. But he's here to see Goodfinger, which means he's in for a good time. Which means, when I order a round of Mexican firewater for the band five minutes later, Mike #2 wants in. Now that the band's had some elixir, they're ready to jam. Scrappy waits in the crowd as Mike, Johnny B, Frank, and Seth take the stage. A couple of riffs, a steady beat, and she slinks on stage, grabs the mic, and grins. Kicking off in their inevitable style of thunderous drums and bass, with slithers of guitar providing a foundation for Miss Scrap to dance lyrically through blistering renditions of 'Taste of Danger' and 'Outside'. The GF rollercoaster quickly picks up full steam hitting 'Radio Perfecto'. There's no stopping them now!. A wall of Brits stand transfixed as if never seeing a band from foreign soil before.Closing back-to-back with 'I know I know you' and 'Sounds of the city' the crowd of Londoners are left standing Shell-shocked. "The best band we've ever 'ad play 'ere" said one of the promoters. Suffice it to say, we agree, lots a dancin,' yellin,' and drinkin,' and everybody got out alive. This time! Mike #2, fresh off-the-wagon, and Amy said their cheers and adieu, and wandered out into the cool London night. But Goodfinger was just getting started. JK