Editors

Plot: A bunch of poms get on stage and prance around in the grand delusion that they can actually play music.

Review: What passes for music nowadays is fairly broad and mostly crap. In the case of the Editors, these people think they can get on stage and play a brand of rock that uses minimal distortion, too many effects pedals and even a fricking keyboard. Keyboard? This is rock, people - NO KEYBOARDS ALLOWED!

And another thing: support acts are supposed to suck, they are NOT supposed to be any good - or, if they are good, the support act's genre is completely unrelated. This is for the safety of the main act so that there is no unexpected upstaging. Whoever organised the support act (called Mercy Arms, by the way) for the Editors should be shot.

The gig itself wasn't a complete loss. There was the obligatory emo-loner who stood right next to the stage, scoping out the venue (and probably thinking he looked way cool) while people were still arriving. There was the teeny-bopper dicklick who thought he was a rabbit and bounced around in his own imaginary mosh-pit (yes, I pushed him out of my way after my surreptitious attempts to trip him in mid-bounce failed). And there was plenty of rock-pointing by the audience, which looked as stupid as it sounded; I refused to point at anyone, no matter how much they rocked.

So, how many ticket stubs would I give to watch this movie in a cinema again?

5 - but they would be the smashed teeth of the cockmunch teeny-boppers who shoved their way to the front.