The Fall

Fall front-man Mark E. Smith is the only remnant of the Manchester band’s line-ups from the late ’70s to the late ’90s, leaving the back-up musicians in the unenviable position of deferring to a cranky old alcoholic and getting little love from the fans. The audience erupted when Smith finally appeared to spit his trademark tweaked-out lyrics and cranky vocals into two mics at once, complain about the sound and boss his band around by pulling on their clothes. The set lasted roughly half-an-hour and we waited nearly as long for an encore that never happened. I left feeling just as grateful for having seen the Fall as not having had to buy a ticket.