Saturday, May 18, 2002 Iain Harvie

Bristol

We arrived at four in the afternoon at Colston Hall just as the last of the optional seats in the stalls are being bolted down. My heart sank. I have clear memories of the first time we played here when the seats were left in. It is profoundly wierd playing with people sitting right at your feet and by the looks on the faces of some of the people sat in the front few rows it is pretty wierd to be down there. Some dickhead at the promoters had told the venue to sell the show as seated. SNAFU. “They can’t be taken out”. “Not enough time”. “People have bought tickets expecting seats”. Excuses, excuses. Jobsworths “Not my responsibily”. “I just do what I’m told”.

So we play six feet above rows of upturned faces. Sure some people stand and some come down the front but others get pissed of because they can’t see from their seat that they paid for and what about the poor bastards who paid their sixteen quid and really want to get into it and are stuck dancing in row Z.

We try our best.