Dark Messiahs and Ballet Dancers

The last eight days has seen us attending two very different events, both of which have been hugely enjoyable, and both of which, I haveto be honest, I thought would be merely OK.

The first of these was last Sunday at the Indigo club in the O2 arena. We were last there in March to see Gary Numan's run through of his seminal Replicas album, which I wrote about here, and which blew us both away, and we found ourselves back there to once again pay tribute to rock's dark messiah as he played his more current songs, drawn mainly from the Jagged Album.

Now as a lifelong fan I have to confess that I adore the early stuff. Replicas, Telekon, The Pleasure Principle, even Dance, I Assassin and Warriors get the thumbs up in my book, and while I think his output in the last ten years has been excellent, I'd forgotten the power that a Numan gig assaults his audience with, and so going in with average expectations I found myself falling once more in love with his recent offerings.

Then three days later we found ourselves in the company of a new friend and his partner as they took us out first to the theatre and then dinner in the swanky borough of Mayfair (that's Mayfair, London for those of you not residing on these fair shores).

The show in question was Billy Elliott, and again I have to be honest in saying that while I thought it would be entertaining to spend a night at the theatre, something we don't often do, the prospect of two and a half hours watching a teenage ballet dancer didn't fill me with excitement.

How wrong I was.

From the moment the curtain went up to the final bowsby the cast, I was completely captivated, as was Deborah, as the tale of a young man's coming of age set against bitter miner's strike of the 1980s made me laugh, smile and hold a tear or two back in a couple of devastatingly poignant moments.

As Victor Remington almost said, I was so impressed I went out and bought the special edition DVD, which we're hoping to watch sometime very soon to compare the film to the stage show.

Tomorrow night is another change of pace again as I take Kez (13 going on 20) to her first proper rock concert. We've done Pink, we've done Newton Faulkner, but tomorrow night we're off to see the mighty Metallica at the massive O2 arena itself for a 'secret' fan club gig.

I personally can't wait, not only to see the band again for the first time in fifteen years, but also to watch Kez as she comes face to face with the Metallica monster.

I'll let you know how it goes.