Well darlings, it seemed the decent thing to do. Bluesbunny Girl had, after all, been personally invited to pass opinion on the musical talents of a few choice bands in the 13th Note in Glasgow. Of course, I live the good life but I did actually expect something more upmarket. The name itself suggested that it might be my kind of place. Beautiful people, French cigarettes and style, style, style.
Following the directions written in crayon by Bluesbunny's idiot editor (and accompanied tonight by the delightfully witty David, bass player from Louise Against the Elements), I descended the stairs. Had I gone back in time? Had I been transported to East Germany before the wall came down? This was not so much a venue as a dungeon. And the smell. The place smelt like 40 post match rugby players attempted to hide their sweaty manliness with a solitary can of Sure deodorant. I can't believe that I was actually wearing pure silk in a den like this.
Little Stevie of Equal an Opposite - he was the promoter- shook my hand. At least his hands were clean! He did look familiar. I think I used to let him wash my car before those nice, fit Polish boys came to town. On the stage - if it can be called that - are two men. An older man called Alec playing a guitar and a big, strong hunk called Brian the Lips playing one of those blues harmonica things. Oh, you could tell he had staying power with all those long sustained notes. Staying power is so important after all, and I am sure that he would not disappoint. Certainly a very manly sound, all - what's that crude phrase? - piss and vinegar.
Sometime during Brian the Lips' set, I noticed a strong smell of burning. Oh my God, a young boy has set his hair on fire using one of the candles that light this dungeon! I later found out that it was the guitarist from The Dharma. How very rock 'n' roll! No more lemonade for him.
The Yellow Bentines are on next. Now I remember them from a previous night and I have to say that they were so much better than I recalled. More rockier if you like and they had no trumpet player this time. History teacher Martin - well, he was dressed like one anyway - pounded the piano keys like a man possessed and they even played my favourites "Pay Cheque" and "Francesca". I wonder if they will name a song after me.
A punk band? Surely that is a musical genre long dead? Not tonight, as a rather mature band - one must show respect to our elders - called The Repeaters took to the stage. Despite looking more than a touch world weary, they played their songs of social conscience with noticeable vigour. You don't hear too many songs about Chernobyl or MRSA from our Clearasiled youth these days so someone has to take up the mantle. Those invigorating little blue pills have done so much for the usefulness of the older man.
The last band on tonight were from Leeds and were called The Dharma. 3 sweet boys - one of them slightly singed of course - who were more than a bit above the indie pop average with some - I love these cute phrases that we reviewers get to use - post punk influences. Certainly you could even sing along to their songs and "The Forgotten" was easily my favourite. Very energetic they were too and you should try to track them down. It won't be difficult. Just follow the smell of burning.
Altogether an eclectic choice of bands tonight and they all made the effort to put on a good show. I just don't see why the other Bluesbunnies rave about this venue. Maybe they have no sense of smell but more likely it is the Goth girls behind the bar. No man can resist an excess of mascara. On that happy (13th) note, I bid Little Stevie goodbye. If he buys some air freshener, I might even come back again.