On Millennium Eve, there was no place I would have rather celebrated the dawning of a new era than in Cardiff, with 75,000 strangers, and the band I loved more than anything else in the world.
The was my sixth Super Furry Animals gig, but only my second time seeing them headlining their own show. I’m sure it was a fantastic night. However, my memories of this gig are somewhat overshadowed by that occasional bane of the female gig-goer’s life: the Unnecessary Man.
“Oh the Manics, my Manics, how easy it is for them to become Everything again.” The Manics were back, and in universe-conquering form. As usual.
My last gig of 1997, in which two wonderful bands stirred me out of my doldrums for a few hours.
I’d seen them supporting the Manics, and as part of the Reading Festival line-up, but this gently magical night was, finally, my first chance to see the magnificent Super Furry Animals headlining their own show.
A triumphant end of an era for the Manic Street Preachers.
21 years old, in a new country, and here was my favourite band in the world, three nights in a row. Three nights which decided the course of the next 21 years of my life.