Gig Review: Thursday 30th August - Brixton Jamm

Weekday nights hold very little promise, and diving from the giddy heights of the rammed, sweaty Solfest dance tent - where the atmosphere teems with an electric charge waiting for an hour-long storm - to peering down into an empty room ready to start the set with a single digit number in the audience. Including the barstaff, who glance at us like they want us to get it over and done with so they can go home.

After a couple of great gigs and a non-stop stream of e-mailed/myspaced compliments in the Solfest aftermath, there is a sense amongst the band members that we're beginning to stray into that territory of being a 'successful' band. I feel it in our changing attitudes towards support acts and I feel it in this twinge of resentment of having to play to 17 people. There is an increasing expectation of what we want from a show, and with it, an increasing expectation of how we should be treated. There is that stereotypical celebrity image of an arrogant arsehole demanding an outrageous rider and I'm beginning to get an insight into how such personalities could be formed from even the shyest of characters. With true success, for me, will come the paranoia that I've become a true arsehole.