Last week I went to see Daughter at the Kentish Town Forum. They’re a band fronted by Elena Tonra, whose voice is the aural equivalent of securing a free seat on the tube during rush hour when you’re a bit hungover. Yep: she’s that good. I did my usual thing of buying two tickets without checking if anyone wanted […]

You usually remember a gig. You might remember it because it was very very good, or because it was bad, or because you were excited, or mildly disappointed, or because you’d had a crap day followed by three incredible hours in a magical, strobey, packed, loud, laser-filled room. And if you’re 5ft 3, you will also remember, in exacting detail, the thread count of the t-shirt belonging to the very tall man who stood in front of you.