Where to begin?
Maybe I could be a bit of a contrary bastard and start at the end and work my way back to the start.
Yeah. That sounds right up my street
So anyway we left as Roadway started into what must have been their third song.
By that point of the evening it was creeping ever closer to the end of what had been a very long day.
I would have liked to have hung about a bit, but my bed was calling me, and no matter how good the band was, and they were good, I was reaching the stage where my feet were aching and the small of my back had taken out a fatwa on the rest of my body.
The young guy singing was hitting all the right buttons though.
If exhaustion wasn't weighing down on me I would have probably made more of an effort to make it to the last note as he's got the cocky rock front man swagger going on that I like
It's not just the impressive vocals that carry the band though.
The guitar work is equally as impressive, and the keyboards work well within the framework of the songs, but I'm not sure if the world really wants a band like this any more.
If Whitesnake where Israel and Deep Purple were Palestine then Roadway are the Gazza Strip.
They're occupying that land between the two, and while they sound great, it still might not be a place people want to visit.
It's not like they were adding a modern twist to the style of rock music they play that would lead people to say that they have some current relevance.
There's maybe a smidgeon of a grunge influence, but in the main they gave the impression of a band suspended in amber.
The Mighty Kung Fu finished their last ever gig to rapturous applause, wolf whistles and probably a tear or two.
Not bad for a local band calling it a day after eight years.
Playing funky rock in Ayrshire was always going to be a bit of an uphill struggle, but they managed to carve themselves a credible niche, and although the band are now on the path to being a memory their final performance was something that their fans will no doubt cherish as they went out on a well deserved high to what was the biggest crowd of the evening.
The Longhorns seem to make random hit and run appearances since they got back together after seventeen years of a lay off and I haven't managed to see any of them.
In fact it's quite possible that I haven't seen them in twenty years.
Not that it felt like that.
Once they fired into their set the years just slipped away and it could have been yesterday.
There's no hint of anyone considering this a nostalgia trip with everything sounding as if it could have been written in the last few weeks.
In fact one of them that had a nice bit of a nod to the Spanish Stroll of Willy Deville and may we have just been written in the last few days.
The band were tight, on form and as relevant now as they ever were.
There was one problem though. Where were the Killie faithful who usually come out to see them?
Ahhhhh. The calm before the storm.
A few friends, family and random punters like myself hang about and watch The Empathy who are on before The Longhorns come on.
Virtually everyone vanished to the bar downstairs, or outside for a fag after Dirty Angel played and left the four piece struggling to connect with an audience.
I was a bit rude.
Totally understandable if they sucked like a Dyson turned up to eleven, but they didn't.
I quite liked them.
There's nothing that screams at you 'look at me' but it's equally there's nothing on display to have you running to the hills covering your ears either.
In fact the Abba cover rocked big balls and anyone who missed it should be kicking themselves now.
It was always going to be difficult to follow Dirty Angels, but they made an admirable job of it and it's a shame more people didn't manage to make the effort to watch them.
Is the roof on?
No honestly is it?
Someone better check as it could have been blown clean off
Dirty Angel finished as they started.
They came, they drank, they fucked about and then they left, or more accurately they left everyone with smiles on their faces.
Imagine Jack Back in School of Rock and then scratch out the R and replace it with a C.
It's the School of Cock......and rock.
They were feckin hilariously entertaining.
From the classic fretboard masturbation to the iconic cum face guitar solo they nailed it, and that was just Dudge.
The only thing missing was spandex, loads and loads of spandex, but we can forgive them for this......this time.
It was the perfect balance of taking it seriously enough to get by, but not taking it too seriously that it impacted on the fun.
Brilliant. Simply brilliant.
Acrylic Iqon are in the wrong place though.
Some music just doesn't suit a pub, but how do you jump past playing in them to get to the larger venues that your sound needs to live and breathe in.
There's hints of the eighties that float in by way of some tinkering on keys, a bit of a stadium rock sound and plenty more current influences weaving in and out of their songs.
As a start to the night it seems odd.
The position on the bill and the band actually playing in these surroundings just doesn't work, but that's not a bad criticism.
Hopefully soon I'll get the chance to see them play in a larger venue that suits what they do as there's plenty of interesting things going on in the Acrylic Iqon camp.
Excellent. The first night of the Dirty Editions dates that David Hanvey is bringing to Kilmarnock. I reckon it's going to be good.
Photos will follow.