What did he just call me?

So on Tuesday me and Susie went to Hammersmith Palais (which is closing later this year to make way for flats) to see Kasabian. I was quite excited as the only time I had seen them before was opening Glastonbury when I'd never heard of them, but saw some people with Kasabian flags wandering around (see, advertising works), and also the Palais is quite small and intimate (much better than those stupid old arenas, especially for short arses like me).

Support came from the Hours, who were pretty run of the mill, nothing too exciting, and the Enemy, who looked about twelve, especially the drummer, and had plenty of attitude (which I don't think is necessarily a bad thing in a band, better than being dull). They were good enough, although the hype I'd heard about them being the next big thing looks a bit off the mark to me.

The headliners didn't get off to the best of starts, with the venue's amps playing up during their opener, Shoot the Runner, which meant we only had the stage amps for sound (which in an arena would have been a travesty), but the crowd made more than enough noise to build the atmosphere. They ran through a set containing all their singles, and I was surprised how many songs I recognised having not listened to the albums much recently, although I didn't know many of the words, I must just make them up when I sing, but a lot of the songs do have an aaaahaaahhahahhh somewhere in them, which doesn't take much remembering. He did seem intent on calling the crowd a bunch of fuckers at every opportunity though, I took it as a term of endearment.

At the end I was pretty content, and the singing from the rest of the crowd continues into the streets outside, always the sign of a good finish (I actually got the name of the last song wrong, confusing LSF with Cutt Off, terrible)......I then had to rush home and wrap Tina's Valentines day gift (I'd bought it the week before, but kept forgetting to wrap it).