Went to see The Earlies last night, pretty good, in terms of scale, anyways. I didn't realise that they were from Manchester, but it was made manifestly clear by the homecoming atmosphere in the Band on the Wall. The bandleader, though, is from Dallas, Texas. Ten of the buggers. One of them had just left the Police Force and came on in a riot helmet and jump suit. There was a perma-grinning guitarist / backing singer / horn player with a crazy Zappatista, curly Dali-esque moustache, such a hippy, trying to vibe up the place. One of the legion of keyplayers came on with a monster spliff in his gob. I actually found them quite dull, in the final reckoning. There were good moments - when they suddenly pulled out the three-man brass section, it sounded immentse - but I dunno, I've seen Pixies and Television in the last couple of weeks, so the bar's quite high at the moment. As ever, The Longcut, who supported, were excellent - although they were really pissed off with it (and you could tell - Stu pulled a couple of tired faces), which was interesting. They thought they'd had an awful gig, but in fact, it was the best I'd heard them sound. Things did go wrong (the leg fell off the tom being the most notable) but out front, it sounded terrififc. They convinced me of their overall excellence; my reviews have tended to focus on the insrumental, three-piece rock side of their music, but I really got into the drum-machine / tambourine percussion, with Stu singing, tracks last night. Speaking to people who'd seen 'em loads of times, you got the feeling that it was far from being a top top Longcut show, but it was the best I'd seen them anyway. Oh yes, Goldfrapp. She played the Move festival before Pixies - we stood in the rain and watched her. She was going for a Debbie Harry look - dirty blonde hair, knee-length boots and black knickers, no skirt and a big black coat. Ye Gods. Half way through the set, she whipped out a theremin and started going at it some. The first thing I thought was, this is her version of a frustrated, masturbatory guitar solo. That theremin is her axe and she's squalling on it, through the rain and the understandable apathy of the waiting for Pixies crowd. Then she pulls up her coat and places it up against her crotch and starts gyrating against it, the antenna of the theremin jutting out, long, straight and hard. This is her band, her stage, this theremin is her cock. It's long, metal and hard and is screaming out in pain. Bill Hicks pointed out that all Jimi Hendrix ever did was 'play his cock'. What was Alison Goldfrapp doing? I guess she was using her sexuality - Stereophonic Man, obviously, was leering at her through the rain (Phil and I, cut us and we bleed, were just standing there, 'impressed', although our friend Sarah speculated outloud that she'd 'probably look knackered close up.') - she was using the cipher of the screaming solo, such a traditionally male excess.