Before we get into the details of why this gig was one of the best ways to spend a weekday imaginable, I just want to note how much of a pleasure it was watching a gig at The Glee Club in general.
The Arcadian venue is known for comedy gigs rather than sea-shanty-folk-punk gigs but you'd never guess aside from a quirky layout. Even the beer is reasonable, which is a relief for someone who is still suffering from too many visits to the arenas of the city.
Beans on Toast opens proceedings and plays for over an hour. There's nothing overly complex about Jay's style but his wit and charm is something that you can't teach. As such he has the crowd in fits of laughter at times and cheering in agreement at others.
MDMAmazing remains his brightest moment but The Chicken Song, a tune about chickens rising up and eating humans, is introduced to me and a genuine treat.
At this point, I'll just take a second to praise the staff and musicians for a swift response when a member of the audience collapsed moments in Skinny Lister's set. Kudos too, to those who attracted the attention of the band. She was back on her feet after a few scary minutes.
The band are back out after a short delay and, while a little of the momentum has gone at first, they're soon into full swing. It's the baffling, chaotic momentum of John Kanaka that first whips everyone into a frenzy.
Trouble on Oxford Street and Beat it from the Chest have the crowd bringing out their best (or worst) folk moves. A pretty big jar of mysterious alcohol is passed around the crowd by the band.
Beans on Toast belatedly rejoins the stage for a rousing rendition of Six Whiskies to see things off in communal fashion.
Neither Skinny Lister nor Beans on Toast provide the most complicated of shows, but both are passionate, energetic and provide the best possible Tuesday night.
