Last month’s editorial was so relentlessly cheery that the editor’s Dad rang him and suggested that he may have been ingesting something more than sunshine. Not the case sadly, but this month has been the swing to the preceding roundabout.
Firstly, apologies for the various gig fiascos during February. The Casbah gig was pulled because we couldn’t come to a satisfactory agreement with the venue and felt it was better to scrap the event and relocate it rather than have the night and be unsure about the arrangements. As you’ll see we’re now putting the night on at The Boardwalk on Thursday March 6th.
The [Student] Halls gigs, where we attempt to bring the Mohammed of local live music to the mountains of the halls-bound student populations, suffered from clashes with England’s football fixtures, Valentine’s Day and the couldn’t give a monkey’s attitude of at least one JCR committee. If you’re a student these people are elected to decide how your money is spent. Keep an eye on them. Honourable exceptions being Mark Cole at Sorby and, to a slightly lesser extent, Tapton.
But most of all apologies to the bands themselves. There’s enough grief involved in being in a band without being messed about by promoters. In this case it’s us and we’ve got to take responsibility for it and we’re sorry.
On a cheerier note Tempting Fate got the first streaker The Boardwalk has seen in a while (ever?) a couple of Saturdays ago. It wasn’t pretty, but it was quite entertaining, and a lot cheaper than Sheffield’s own corporate titty bar, Spearmint thingy.
As ever there’s been plenty of good stuff going on this month if you’re prepared to dig a little. The Dustpunk shindig went off well. More power to them and we hope they want to do it again.
Anyway, we’re seconds away from legging up to the printers and handing over the magazine. Sweat shines on our brows and we have no more time for simile, metaphor or even just the usual cobblers.
Sandman Sheffield Editorial