My 72nd gig
After nearly eighteen months away from a full live set, stepping back onto the stage at Mold Sureways felt both alien and familiar. The Psycho Sexual Sex Terrestrials were never about complexity—three or four chords, often in the same order—but about attitude, noise, and the peculiar thrill of being in a band. The setlist was a blast through the core of PSST’s repertoire: Liar, Beirut in Rhyl, Life Goes On, Kennedy, Fatal Attraction, £2.17, Death on the Motorway, Scared, the instrumental Happy as Larry (with Paul on bass), and Melanie-Jane.
Off-stage, the mood was less harmonious—Jon’s prattish antics during soundcheck and Paul’s subsequent sulking stirred memories of difficult 4Q gigs. Yet when the lights dimmed and the first chords rang out, the frustrations fell away. The room, crammed with what felt like hundred bodies, vibrated with the raw energy of a band leaning into its own ragged edges. It wasn’t perfect, it was a bit shit, but was good fun (I think)
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