Jon and Libby

It was back to Manchester on Thursday this week, for Bleep #16. This is a significant event for me. First, it marks a year since I first descended the badly-lit steps to the venue space beneath the Peer Hat, and heard some things that made my inner idiot command me to do something in response. A genuine epiphany. A year on, and I'm about to do my 6th gig, having never been on a stage since an ill-fated attempt at a punk band at school. We walked on to silence, played four terrible songs to silence, walked off to silence, and vowed never to do it again. It was clearly the right decision for all involved, especially our audience. But I digress. It's exactly 40 years later, and time for tonight's acts, such as I had time to see before my train called me away to bed and the usual 6:30 start on Friday morning. First up was WhereIsRoamer, who previously graced the Bleep stage last summer with a live set. With a look seemingly influenced by Marc Bolan and Robert Smith, we were tre...

...but this town never drags me down.  Yes, last Thursday the relentless monthly carousel of EMOM nights landed once again on BLEEP in Manchester, accompanied by the kind of rain that seems at first to be far too light to be of any consequence but is actually deeply penetrating, and quickly soaks you to the bone. But dodging puddles on Newton Street, I didn't care. The performance space below the Peer Hat is warm and welcoming.  My train was late into God's own city, and by the time I arrived and grabbed a pint, the space was already filling with familiar faces ...and an enigmatic lady in sunglasses, clad in black, and sitting still and alone, staring at the stage.  The night wasn't as well-attended as usual, but I can safely say that before my 9pm home time called for a 6:30am Friday start, we would all be in for many diverse treats.  First up was Neural Maker, a very interesting and creative DJ. Now, normally, I can take or leave DJs, but this guy is something else...

My tummy went all funny when I saw the poster the Collective had made for us. I don't know about Libby, but I've been super excited ever since hearing that we'd been picked to play Bleep #13. Excited, as in waking up in the night and grinning like a cartoon. Excited, as in washing my hands at work and grinning at my stupid reflection in the mirror. Excited, as in sitting in traffic, and suddenly shouting at Radio 4, "Oh my GOD! We're playing BLEEP!" Bleep was the first EMOM-style night I attended when, back in April, I stood alone in the audience downstairs at Manchester's famous Peer Hat, and my inner idiot said, "I bet you could do that...". Mental cogs began to grind away in the background, and "I bet..." morphed quickly into "I demand..." I say Bleep is "EMOM-style", because there's a subtle distinction between what the Manchester Electronic Collective do and the nights mounted by most other organisers. At a...