This was the tour to promote the Street Fighting Years album, a disappointing affair that contains the frankly dreadful chart topper Belfast Child. I had been persuaded to go by friends who had lent me their double live album. That had convinced me that they were more of a rock band live than in the studio.
How hard they rocked was rendered completely moot by the utter shittyness of our seats. We were at the far end of the arena, about two thirds of the way up the back wall. The sound was dreadful and we were so far away that it could have been anyone on stage that night. There were no big screens. One to forget, ironically. The guests were The Silencers. Quite.
