NICK-CAGE AGAINST THE MACHINE
That’s right a Nick Cage fronted Rage against the machine. I mean Cage in his Underwear: fantastic. Feel them and find out. I would say give them a blast they are fun and a great warm ups for the next gig.
ELVANA
Some bands you hesitate to admit you love. You mention them quietly, waiting for the eyebrow raise. Elvana are exactly that band. And yet, every time I take those sceptical friends along, the same thing happens. They leave buzzing, hoarse, and mildly annoyed they didn’t discover this nonsense sooner.
I’ve seen them plenty. Back in the Ruby Lounge days in 2017, Gorilla in 2023, Kendal Calling in 2025. Familiarity hasn’t dulled the impact. If anything, it sharpens it. They know exactly how far to push things, and Manchester was more than happy to be pushed.
Proceedings began with a lie. An “ambulance man” appeared on stage to announce the gig was cancelled. Groans. Disbelief. Then, instantly, the rug was pulled. Elvis burst onto the stage with a walking frame after hamburger and zip accident, and all was right again. From there, it was straight into “Territorial Pissings”, a chaotic opening statement that made it very clear this was not going to be a respectful tribute night.
“That’s All Right” followed, before “In Bloom” swaggered in, rhinestoned and grinning. By the time “Rape Me” collided with “Love Me Tender”, the crowd had fully surrendered. Any lingering irony was long gone. This was commitment.
“Scentless Apprentice” snarled its way into “Hound Dog”, and then came one of the night’s loveliest moments.
“Dumb”, dedicated to everyone in the room and especially one lad’s mum in the crowd, melted effortlessly into “Always On My Mind”. Tender and ridiculous in equal measure. “Cos I think I’m dumb” has rarely felt so affectionate.
By now, Elvis was already in the pit, dragging people out of the crowd like it was a hands-on workshop. “Breed” arrived with a grin and a command, before things lurched gloriously into “Moist Vagina” and “Stay Away”. If anyone was still pretending they weren’t having fun, they’d picked the wrong night.
An outfit change brought a brief pause, handed over to head cheerleader Rachael Farago, who informed us all that we have mummy and daddy issues before encouraging us to breed. Sound advice, delivered efficiently.
Then it was straight back into it with “All Fucked Up”, followed by “A Little Less Conversation” mashed into “Smells Like Teen Spirit”, which felt like the most natural pairing in the world by this point.
“Come As You Are” offered a brief breather before “Drain You” flirted shamelessly with “Suspicious Minds”. The crowd was then physically parted, forming a circle around Elvis, who invited every Elvis impersonator in the room into the centre. A convention within a gig within a fever dream.
The closing stretch didn’t let up. “Can’t Help Falling in Love” slid into “Heart-Shaped Box”, “Viva Las Vegas” landed like a glitter bomb, and finally “Heartbreak Hotel” collided with “Lithium”, sending everyone home sweaty, smiling, and slightly confused about what they’d just witnessed.
This shouldn’t work. On paper, it’s a terrible idea. In reality, it’s joyful, ridiculous, and executed with total conviction.
Elvana don’t just mash up Elvis and Nirvana. They turn the whole thing into a shared joke where the punchline is pure fun.
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