According to some pictures I saw, they seem to have once had a male keyboard player. He has been replaced by a bottle-weilding-chain-smoking-drink-spitting lady in a brown suit...maybe Joan Crawford's inner self. (SPEAKING OF JOAN CRAWFORD: No one ever did say if they like the film Johnny Guitar when I mentioned it...I was expecting a barrage of abuse). I thought they were fun, and sounded amazing out in the street (which is supposed to be a compliment!)...when we got in, they reminded me of Bauhaus, with frocks, and were certainly the best band of the night. I desperately wanted to walk out on The Long Blondes, but we were sort of trapped at the front through their dismal set. UGH.