11. Adam Ant

IndigO2

26 May 2011

We’ve barely set down our drinks when the lights dim, the tribal drums kick in, and suddenly, emerging from the fog of a six-year mental-health sabbatical, Adam Ant himself strides onto the stage. The man has seemingly beaten his demons and is back, louder, prouder, and with enough eyeliner to repaint the Eighties.

But hold onto your hats, this isn’t just any comeback gig. Oh no, Mr. Ant’s brought with him two burlesque backup singers. Yes, including that one, the very Georgina Baillie, cruelly infamous for being the focal point of the Russell Brand and Jonathan Ross prank scandal that had us all spluttering our tea back when we thought Russell Brand was just a bit of a cheeky chap and not an alleged sex predator. The promise of drama alone could justify the ticket price.

So what were we in for? A car crash in 4/4 time? A heartfelt resurrection of a star who’s had it out with fame and come out the other side? Well, a bit of both, honestly, like a gloriously strange hybrid of kitsch carnival and Monty Python sketch with campy flair. Somewhere in the Venn diagram of surreal, silly, and spectacular, we found ourselves swept up in Mr Ant’s mischievous energy, grooving to those infectious beats, and thinking, “What on earth are we watching?”

And then, as if perfectly timed, Adam Ant, jigging around enthusiastically to Antmusic, jigs right off the stage with all the balletic grace of someone who forgot where the edge was. He bounces back up, pure slapstick gold, and dives right back into the madness as if nothing happened.

The result? A bonkers, burlesque-laden blitz of an evening that refused to take itself seriously, and left us entertained, bewildered, and delighted.