JAMIE BRITTON recommends that we all buy at least two copies of a remarkable book of poems
The Mekons, 100 Club London
The Mekons live up to their reputation as 'the only band that matters'
Legends: The Mekons at 100 Club
[Ilka Schlockermann]
The bard joins the Carnival Against Fascism, which summer fun sends him down Memory Lane
FIONA O’CONNOR is bowled over by a stunning Welsh language drama
MARIA DUARTE and MICHAL BONCZA review Virginia Woolf’s Night & Day, Familiar Touch, Nino, and Toy Story 5
MATTHEW HAWKINS explores the initiatives proposed by HEALING ARTS SCOTLAND
ALEX HALL welcomes an analysis of how modern capitalism is deeply intertwined with emotions, and their manipulation
DESCENDING into the musty red glow of the 100 Club, you wouldn’t know you were walking the steps of music history.
Wedged between a Boots and Anne Summers, the legendary club — with its haze, heat and smell of dust and sweaty leather — is just a sliver in the wall, its neon red sign the only hint of its glorious dissent from the couture buzz of Oxford Street.
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