Standing in the moshpit, unafraid and undeterred

The Strokes at the Hammersmith Apollo, 18th February 2006

So after a difficult couple of months battling against the distemper of winter and trying to regain my lost mojo in gig-going terms, I finally broke through the awful lassitude and enjoyed a rampaging evening of rock-god proportions in the uber-cool person of the fabulous Strokes of New York and universal indie fame.

In the past my devotion to the band has been rather uneven, with a certain wariness of what they do and did stand for musically. What were they about I wondered, and 'what are they FOR' my purist housemate asked. Well, they're about making uncool over thirty miscreants like myself twist and shout with old fashioned innocent glee. Oh yes.

The band were on great form and it was a sublime night from start to finish; with all my mates there (vodkasluts, Bulmersbabes and whiskeydivas, one and all) and my gin-drinking and gig-going mojo returned in glorious unison. Hallelujah.

Oh and Julian Casablancas has been totally reborn to me with his really rather attractive sultry masculine presence. His voice is deep and powerful and slightly, ahem, overwhelming. Well worth the hype. GSG.