Bohemian No!

I'm not usually one for judging a sub-culture....


Ah who am I kidding. I judge anything and anyone. It's an inherent trait I received from my mother, just one of the few things we happen to have in common. I'm not going to lie to you, I can be pretty mean at times.

In writing this, however, the motive is not to be mean, but to save you (and your ears) from the most terrible excuse of a band I have ever seen.

Although I don't know their name, I can tell you this:

If you see an army of cardigan clad men with an casually dressed drummer, run. RUN FOR YOUR LIFE!!

I didn't.

I suffered.

On the stage the Bohemian army of 'musicians' stood, dazed, skinny and scruffy. They looked out into the crowd...at all 5 of the bohemian little gypsy minions that tagged along with them, already swaying before the music had begun. Those fucking gypsies.

The ominous sound of one of the THREE GUITARS ON STAGE begins to rattle. The lead singer, in a brown sweater, dirty dreads and an ugly face, braces himself and pulls out...


a melodica.

Wanna know what a melodica is?





Yes that's right. The BoHo 'played' the melodica. It was bright green, and plastic. An astute gentleman standing behind me bore the expression on his face that said it all:

"WTF?"

Not having seen a melodica before, I asked what the 'instrument' was, to which he replied: "A children's toy."

Quite right.

In case your wondering, the melodica is not the only thing the lead singer blows. He blows pretty much everything. Hmmm...let me rephrase that: he blows AT pretty much everything.

3 Guitars. 3 Guitars that 'band' had. One of them wasn't even playing...he was just standing there. Swaying back and forth. Mumbling to himself.

Fucking Bohemians.

Their minions weren't any better. The dancing...it was...I don't know what it was. One of them was romping around on the dance floor with a beer bottle in his hand.

Which was empty...

YET HE STILL CONTINUED TO DRINK FROM IT!!!

I could continue rambling on about the number of things I was disgusted with, but it is 1am in the morning and I really must go to bed. I have a full day ahead of me in which I will try and forget that this whole experience had ever happened.

Who knows? Perhaps I will convince myself that it was all a dream.