The double gig

Last night I double-gigged. And I love doing the double-gig. Rushing across town between venues makes me feel so important and in demand. Well, it wasn't much of a rush. More of a stroll down the road.

The evening started in Liverpool Barfly, which I affectionately call the Baffly. That's because a lot of their line-ups baffle me, and it sounds like Barfly. A double-pun for a double-gig. Clever. My friends Cayelle were playing. They were a bit rusty but did well. I still think they should exploit their strengths and write songs about things they know about, such as tax issues, engineering and Numb3rs. They could be the North West's premier nerdcore band.

After this it was off to Korova for Zarif. She's the new Lily Allen or something like that. We arrived early and had to admire her bass drum for a while (see picture). Quite a while, in fact. But late stage times are just Korova's thing. Luckily, the upstairs bar has CCTV screens, so you can monitor what's happening in the gig venue and decide when it's the optimal time to go downstairs. Too early and you'll have to sit through the soundcheck. Too late and you'll struggle to find a space (although last night that wasn't a problem, with about 20 or 30 people - a bit disappointing for a free gig on a Friday night). As soon as I headed downstairs with my friends we were accosted by two braying City boy types. They were loudly yah-yah-yahing and wearing shirts. Not the Ben Sherman ones you get in TK Maxx either. One of them had slicked-back hair. They might as well have carried a sign declaring "We're not from around here". I'm all for mixing it up and meeting the variety society has to offer, but some people are just twerps. When we politely refused to sit on a sofa with them, they brayed "don't be such a homosexual!" Shudder.

Zarif and her session band were a pleasant surprise. I'd been expecting Remi Nicole Part II, but Zarif was much better than that. Brassy, funky and summery. Uncannily similar to Amy Winehouse circa Frank, yes, but somehow different. Plus her star-shaped earring matched her star-shaped tambourine. How lovely. I was enjoying her set. So were the City boys, who salsa-danced at the front with their accompanying blondes. Berks.

At the end of her set my applause was sincere. "I like this," I thought to myself. "I'm going to add her on MySpace." But then it hit me. She knows those City boys. She's friends with them. Oh Lord. Maybe I don't like her after all.