#satans whatever

Last night I drew the short straw and had to drag myself over to The High Hat bar to review the 'up and coming' band Satan's Angels - or whatever it was called. They aren’t pretentious in a facetious, flippant, charming way, they’re just pretentious. These misfits try so hard it's almost funny. Only almost, mind you, because if they were actually funny I might've had a good time, which I most certainly did not. Actually, I tell a lie, they did have a wonderful section of drinks at the bar - that I enjoyed.

The lead singer, Michael something-or-other, has a voice like a feral animal. Hard to take the pseudo-philosophical nonsense they pass off as lyrics seriously when they sound like a possessed baby with tuberculosis. Someone needs to tell the guys in 2014 that we found out what the fox says. And there was no stage charisma either - he merely stood there. At least I think that's what happened. There’s always the chance I was too drunk or bored to notice otherwise.

Fortunately, the band has a singular saving grace… although she can’t save them completely, seeing as I’ve forgotten her name. And honestly she looked a lot better than she sounded, a real treat for the eyes, but not so much for the ears. I've seen my fair share, been around the block and whatnot, but this girl was genuinely something else. Maybe I should try and find her one day, but god knows if I'll ever actually be bothered. She was crazy hot though, the hair, the eyes, the...

I'm now being told to say that the rest of the band was there too. But I wouldn't worry about them if I were you. They're rubbish.