Outside, and Nottingham’s Old Market Square is the usual mixture of drunken bodies, arguing couples and stag nights intent on drinking their way through as many foul-tasting bottles of cheap lager as they can lay their wages on.Inside, Milky Wimpshake have just left the stage after giving a performance that only they can give; a masterclass in pop thrills and mayhem that makes everything outside the venue look as futile and downright dull as it actually is.
It looks so easy when Wimpshake do it, and you wonder why every band can’t do this. Vocals, guitar, bass, drums: it’s simple, but it makes the sort of mind-blowing sense that other, lesser bands can’t seem to fathom. Why try so hard when all you need are songs about, love, relationships, politics and sex?
Tonight, Milky Wimpshake fizz through all of these topics and more. They play a heart-warming mixture of old and new, including an explosive version of ‘Dialling Tone’, which has even the woman at the front in the blue jump suit on her feet and pounding the floor with her feet. This is pure pop music in front of an audience who can’t get enough. It’s not that busy in here by any means, but the 30 or so people seem like a thousand when Milky Wimpshake create the kind of atmosphere that only they can.
Afterwards, Pete Dale is having a fag outside in the alleyway, as the hordes of Saturday night revellers veer past, just yards from us. We’ve just had a better time than they’ll have if they continue to drink Bacardi Breezers until the next morning. He’s as humble as ever, despite just playing the best show I’ve seen for months and months. Someone compliments him on his jumper. He shrugs and says his wife bought it for him. Inside that jumper beats a pop heart so pure that we all pretty much want to smother him in kisses. Next time.
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