20.10, New Stage

And then, once The Warlocks depart, all hell seems to break loose. In a short space of time the crowd swells dramatically, doubling, trebling, quadrupling in size. Whereas the reception afforded to The Warlocks was modest and polite rather than feverish, there’s suddenly a buzz of expectation and a frisson of anticipation in the air – and the next act haven’t even appeared yet. When KINGS OF LEON finally do walk onstage, there’s an almighty cheer. And then they start to play. And my heart sinks. It’s pretty clear that, despite being hyped to the heavens – especially by NME hack Imran Ahmed, who seems incapable of finding fault with anything, least of all bright young things with guitars – they’re nothing particularly special. So, they play a bit of Southern boogie stuff and look just right with their tight jeans and eccentric facial hair arrangements – am I supposed to fall fawningly at their feet? Read my lips, hypesters: I ain’t doin’ it, I tells ya. I’m long gone by the time they saddle up and leave town.