Spanner, Bill and I descend into the bowels of Sleazy’s for what is a fairly average gig from what is normally an exciting band. The very low stage means that my two comrades saw little if any of our Oriental chums’ stagecraft.
The best thing about the whole night was two young girls whom I engaged in conversation. Not for the very fetching kimonos they were wearing but for the fact that they had Peter Andre masks on the back of their heads.
(AMT&TMPUFO never fail to have ‘interesting’ album sleeves. I remain unclear whether this one suffers from a poorly placed cloud or whether she’s levitating using a mystery anal propellant)