My mate Ronan is in a band called the Metropolisians. A month or so ago they won their heat in a battle of the bands contest for which the ultimate prize is a gig at the Elysée de Montmartre (Paris’ Astoria for the Londonners amongst you) and a record deal. With their brit-pop charm, stomping rhythms and oodles of charisma, they brought the house down with their second round performance last Friday night.
Appropriately for this second stage the competition was harder to beat, but not in terms of quality but rather the number of people clapping. Bands are rated on the basis of how many raised hands a man at the front can count at the end of each set. There were some pretty ropey high school bands and it looked at one point that one of these bands might have won, having brought half the high school with them for support. But in the end, it was the Metropolisians who got the last laugh with 189 votes to 99 for the band in second place.
Check out their website and if you hear “winkle-pickers” in one of the lyrics, it’s thanks to your friendly engineering correspondant in Paris.