Independent (2/3) By Katherine Horrex Photos by Darren Rogers

(1/3), (2/3), (3/3).

"Really?" Giles endeavoured, determined not to be so casually thwarted, "I thought they were fantastic - in fact I thought they were awesome." "I thought they were just like every other bunch of fucking no-mark pretentious cunts that come in here every sodding night of the week- all skinny jeans and their dad's money." "No, but there's something different about them," he said with all the energy of the newly converted, "They really know how to communicate to their audience - you saw how people were affected. I found nothing pretentious about them at all - they're just five honest, down to earth lads, whose clarity regarding love belies their years."

The girl laughed at this. "Don't give me that clichéd high-brow shit, especially when it's just a load of bollocks. You know, there is actually a difference between having real presence and being a lanky posturing cunt, and anyway I'm sure their audience reacted exactly the same in that docker's pub they played in last night. Musically they were incredibly bland; there was nothing original there whatsoever.

Christ, it was as if they dropped Es while listening to too much Oasis! And as for their, as you perceive it, "honesty" and "clarity", all they were conveying was the sense that any bloke between the age of 15 to 50 can be a rock n roll superstar." Giles had a certain amount of scruples as to whether and how he should respond to this attack, and his smile had long since been superseded by a look of amiable perplexity.

The girl's hostility was so at odds with what he and surely everyone else in the room felt, that it seemed difficult to believe they had watched the same show. It occurred to him, as he watched her tipping slops from a drip tray into a tiny lime scale encrusted sink, that, busy as she had been, she had probably been unable to appreciate what a great band The Duffal Cotes were. "So you do admit then that these guys have potential? To be rock n roll superstars, I mean."

"They might have had potential if they'd got there first - before all the other indie cunts. There's no room for them any more - this scene is dead on its feet already, and the sooner it comes crashing down, the better." The girl's tone was passionate, earnest. "If they do get anywhere, they certainly won't be stars. Anyway, banal is what it is - I'm not in the habit of quoting Morrissey, heaven forbid, but none of it says fuck all to me about my life; It's all about looking back, to a time where dad played football with his son, while mum stayed in the kitchen - reactionary, you might say..."

"It's what's popular though." "Yeah, and so were shell suits, one time. Hitler, too. Don't you ever look around you and wonder whether there's some kind of conspiracy against change? There've certainly been times when I have. This whole place even,' she indicated the room, with its pitch black walls, 'it's like working down the pit.'

Continued...Next Page (3/3)

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