That's it for another year... Tuesday FNF and final thoughts from CA.

Well, where else to end the night - and the longest weekend of the year - than at FictionNonFiction? It is actually Tuesday, after all. And more to the point it's Halloween - and in Tiger Lounge it's always Halloween to a certain extent. It's pretty empty when we get in there, perhaps everyone's just all gigged out. There's a couple of bands to go though...

This Is Pop are from Paris and the trio, known only as M, S and L, comprise two boys and a girl and a cheap keyboard and guitar, and play gloriously dirty electro-punk that sounds like the Rezillos on low-grade speed. Singer L, exuding rather more typically Parisian glamour than her generally trashier looking British counterparts in this genre, jumps up and down on the spot a lot and sings and shouts like Karen O's cheekier little sister in what might be a mixture of French and English although its all rather hard to tell. Their enthusiasm doesn't let up despite the best efforts of their rather stroppy equipment as they deliver pacy, energetic two minute bursts of fuzzy bleeps and guitars, as well as a track where one of the lads takes over lead vocal which sounds like Kraftwerk covering Spacemen 3 in an underpass. That's a good thing, by the way.

And this is my In The City. Not the canape munchers - all probably well on their way home by now, fudging their expenses forms in First Class - but watching a band you'd never heard of until two minutes ago who have travelled from another country to play to 20 people in a slightly seedy cellar just because they're there.

So as the clock strikes midnight (well, over the road in the Town Hall somewhere) pumpkin lanterns are lit, and surveying the largely black-clad stragglers in here it's hard to tell who's dressed up for Halloween and who's just, well, you know... Black Fiction crank up some old-school Crampsy B-movie rockabilly punk thrash carried along at a brain-melting pace by drummer Tim O'Sullivan, who I'm sure in some countries would be classed as a weapon of mass destruction. They're blisteringly loud, good classic rock'n'roll fun - and as far removed from the big money chasing world of corporate ITC as you can get.

*

It seems weeks, rather than four days and five hours, since Decoration opened the ITC batting as the first band on V-Man's Friday curtain-raiser session. My camera batteries have just about gone and my brain's turned to soup. I have seen 54 acts at 16 separate gigs in 12 different venues. What with the rest of the MM crew I'm sure we'll have topped a hundred. Not bad going for a bunch of enthusiasts who don't even do this for a living. I owe lots of apologies to bands I just couldn't fit in; I'll be catching up with Starfighter Pilot tonight at Night & Day as life starts to return to some sort of normality; to other local favourites such as The Amber Club, The Children, iDresden, Duty Now, The Ending Of, Kni9hts and doubtless many more I can only say I'm sure I'll see you soon enough. For those we did catch, over the next week or so we'll endeavour to get them posted up onto the main ManchesterMusic site as well as put together some sort of highlights review; and there's the small matter of the enormous pile of demo CDs people have been stuffing in our pockets along the way. We'll try and review them all, but this could take a bit longer.

In the meantime, enjoy the photos. http://s12.photobucket.com/albums/a215/MMinthecity/

Cheers all
Cath Aubergine

Tuesday evening - Baby Grand & Joshua Brooks

God only knows what the thinking was behind shifting ITC "weekend" to Sunday-Monday-Tuesday. And whilst there were still a good number of passes around on Monday night, as we walk past the Midland Hotel early Tuesday evening there are plenty of official satchels being shovelled into taxis; the seminars and networking sessions are all done, and back in the real world it's two days into a working week - I booked a few days' leave from the day job as soon as the dates were announced - but there's still an evening's worth of bands to go. The NME New Bands Showcase is being held at Baby Grand this year which seems like a really lovely little bar compared to its brash Peter Street neighbours - until our two bottled beers set us back nearly seven quid. Anyway we're here to see a young band from the North East whose demo caught our attention too earlier this year; I'm faintly surprised the NME likes them as there's not a kohl-rimmed eye or processed beat in sight, but at the same time pleased there are clearly still people at the magazine who aren't tied to its official trends.

The six-piece A Woman Of No Importance are from Seaham Harbour, a small town on the coast somewhere between Hartlepool and Sunderland; pleasantly suburban on the surface but whipped by the cold winds of the North Sea and the demise of nearby industry. It's all there in their sound; classic, crystalline indie-pop that harks back to the days of 20 years ago when in a teenage bedroom full of fanzines all indie bands were synonymous with the small towns in which they came together. Nobody was from London then. Their acoustic guitars might be strummed with the sound of summer and the vocals easy-going and melodic but there's a chill factor in the cello and violin which fill out the sound. Shades of the Smiths echo through the minor chords and intelligent, literate lyrics. This band are unlikely to ever trash a hotel room or fuck Kate Moss, but they have timelessly gorgeous tunes which could soundtrack lives. That's got to be more important.

Next stop is the Joshua Brooks, where the weekend all starts to merge into one as I find myself talking to Rachael Kichenside about iLiKETRAiNS. We're here for RealFreshTV (on which Rachael will be performing later, although I have to give my apologies and promise to come and see one of her own gigs soon when things calm down a bit) - a brilliant little operation whose remit of putting on quality four band line-ups in various venues around town for about a fiver, interviewing the bands as they finish their sets and editing the whole thing into a video podcast you can watch a few days later via their website (http://realfresh.tv/) has been one of Manchester's quiet revelations of 2006. I can't help thinking all those suits who were probably discussing the future of how we experience music over cosy canapes back at the Midland should be down here watching it in action. The shows are watched from as far afield as the US and South Korea, apparently, and the link man jokes that we should all cheer particularly loudly because they probably think they're watching some big arena show.

Otra Mano are certainly a band you could imagine playing some big arena show. They look the part, and sound it too. This is commercial adult pop with a big chunk of indie sensibility; the great widescreen sweep of "In Love For the First Time" (surely a contender for single material) with the prominent keyboards of singer Don Vega brings to mind the new-spec, grown-up Killers. With drummer Adi and guitarist Razor adding harmonies to the vocals Otra Mano have a lush, full sound that's not afraid to wear supposedly uncool influences alongside the usual ones; the polished sheen of 80s FM radio pop blends seamlessly with the anthemic Mancunia of Doves and Puressence. "Circles" (more potential single material) has a massive great big uplifting chorus, and the fantastic set closer "Last Man In Europe" has the commercial-with-an-edge appeal of later-period Idlewild. Over the next few days they'll be playing in such rock'n'roll outposts as Sale and Accrington, but you can't help thinking the Apollos and academies are very much in their sights. In the post-set interview they display a charming lack of pretension and arrogance; "Are you getting a lot of attention then?" asks the interviewer. "Well... my mum likes us..."

Palo Alto sound so unlike pretty much anything else going on in this city right now that our mate asks us if they are from Manchester; singer Elaine pretty much answers him before we can; "This next song is called Slade Lane Junction". That'll be a yes, then. Their sound is probably best described as "very 4AD" if that in fact means anything; there's rumbling deep Chameleons bass, Slowdive meets Sigur Ros atmospheric guitar washes and Elaine's quite outstandingly beautiful voice, equal parts soaring and ethereal; whilst on "Catalan" the gently strummed guitars and indie-pop melody recall Lush in their (pre-Britpop-bandwagon-jumping) heyday. In the final song "Yellow" the sound builds up into great waves of delay and passion not a million miles away from the likes if iLiKETRAiNS; and there's that word I'm always a bit wary of using because it still has negative connotations in some circles, but the interviewer's not afraid to jump in with it. "Shoegazing... I know some people get offended by that..." "No" laughs Elaine "we love it". Well, she does have very sexy shoes, after all.

- Cath. One last stop to go then...

Tues Afternoon

With the imagery and sounds of the Japanese showcase (Kouzui & Siberian Newspaper) warming the soul, three days of shoe leather wearing and ITC event book page turning is finally reaching a close, so it’s time to rest the back and take a visit down to the basement of the Bay Horse to catch the Forecast records showcase.

The mixture of church pews and leather seats gives the venue an incongruous mix, but in turn provides a warm ambience. That plus the 15w light bulbs which barely light the cellar, but which in their own way are making a contribution to the reduction of global warming,

Though it may be his fifth performance in 2 days and he is feeling the effects of the flu, Nomad Jones carries his guitar once more to the stage, making sure that the show goes on. With incisive lyrics and a sweet voice that can move through the ranges, I’m glad he did.

So much so that when the next performer, George Borowski, spies him leaving, he shouts out “Great voice mate” and gets a round of deserving applause. Borowski is a Manchester lad through and though, so he identities with the number 53 bus route that dissects the city. It a reference point for his gravely voice to recite stories of what’s going on at the time, from Jesse James and Billy the Kid (both shot in the back) to football thuggery. His passion for playing remains undiminished in the 30+ years he’s been going, and long may it continue

Another act with several performances to their name is the Paper Wives. Or rather one woman and her band. Trying to defy the limited space available, at least 6, (possibly more hidden in the darkness) member featuring cello, double bass, guitars and other things, try to avoid stepping on someone else’s foot. The set is split into two elements; one with the band, and featuring (the lass whose name escapes me) one performer plus keyboards. Solo, she displays a range reminiscent of Kate Bush, but with some nice takes on her days working at the CIS. With the band it’s a very orchestral type of delivery, witnessed and appreciated by a packed area, which may only hold 30 people, but seems much more

Ged Camera