Too Old for Live, Local Music?!

I was at the well-loved, well-respected live music venue, The Cluny t’other day for a regular dose of local, live music.

However, I noticed a few ten things which I fear may deem me ‘too old to go to gigs’ (at the ripe old age of 23):

  1. I didn’t recognise any of the music played between bands
  2. The music (see above) was too loud – I could barely hear myself talk never mind anyone else!
  3. I didn’t seem to be wearing the new breed of gig-goers’ uniform which seems to have developed (crotch-restrictively-tight jeans & pointy shoes)
  4. I felt very under-dressed – since when did people get ‘dressed up’ to go and see a band?!
  5. I only came out with enough cash to get a rabbit drunk
  6. The enjoyment of one band’s performances was marred by the vision of some middle-aged woman’s arse hanging out of her jeans that I could see out of the corner of my eye
  7. I couldn’t understand what the singer was saying when he wasn’t singing
  8. It was far too hot
  9. That damn Too Far North stamp is as stubborn as a really stubborn mule!
  10. I felt old enough to be some of the punters’ father

So, there you have it. I love music. I love live music. I love having a beer and watching a local band.

But I can’t stand all the things that go along with that, like people, and expensive beer, and loud/shit music!

Yep, I really am a grumpy old sod.


  1. I know exactly what you mean mate. I was reviewing Hot Chip at the Academy last week, and couldn’t get over the fact that I was surrounded by total and utter abject wankers of the highest order… sadly this seems to be the norm thesedays.

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