APU Bar, Cambridge

Kicking off the indie fest that this night was blantantly destined to be was Turn. At least, I think that's what they said. With some catchy little poppy numbers, they definitely had an appeal to those amongst the audience that enjoy reminiscing over a good ole rehash of mid-90's British guitar bands but, unfortunately, I think that was only me and I lost interest after the first couple of songs. Still, they tried their best to entertain a room (half) full of what could have been cardboard cut-outs. I feel for these bands; I really do. Bloody Cambridge people. Most of the population were probably enjoying a nice long weekend in a caravan somewhere in Bexhill-On-Sea. Suckers.

Although, when Snowfield took to the stage, I guess I would have gladly cosied up in a sleeping bag, toasting Hot Cross Buns on a little camping stove somewhere, anywhere. This band were my tiny beacon of hope. They looked cool, (the guitarist has one of those haircuts that makes him look like he's wearing a helmet), and I was almost flat out on the floor with hope and anticipation that they may liven up the proceedings. And with each dragging epic onslaught that followed, my head sank deeper into my hands, as I sought for something about them which may excite me, wailing guitars and equally as wailing vocals soaring over my head. And did I mention that I hate bands that think their music surpasses their need to communicate with the people watching? Snowfield left me cold and isolated and very, very bored. The kids seemed to like it. I did not.

So by the time The Boxer Rebellion appeared, I had had three large glasses of white wine and was feeling quite emotional, desperate even. However, hailing from London, but picking up their very cute singer from America, things were looking up. After a slow start, and period of recovery from the previous band, I did actually begin to warm to the Cooper Temple Clause- sounding vocals and seering guitars. God forbid, they actually seemed to be putting their hearts into what they were playing. They were also good at it. They had passion and soul and were getting interesting to watch. But, by then, I think it was too late for me and, just after making afore-mentioned observations, the end was nigh. Had I just failed to grasp the point of the most important show in the last month or so? Doubtful. All I can say is forget the first two bands. Go see The Boxer Rebellion and be enlightened or whatever it is that you're supposed to be whilst listening to loud anthemic Indie music. As for me, I went home and drank vodka for the first time in 7 years.

Anna Claxton