Oh no, Steve Hillage!

I was really expecting someone to shout out Neil's famous lament when the man himself walked onstage last week, but it's just as well they didn't, as despite being a very nice chap he has a bit of a sense of humour bypass about his brush with popular culture, as Robin discovered when he interviewed him a couple of weeks ago. An excellent set from the Steve Hillage band (including Mike Howlett & Miquette Giraudy) with some great (astral) projections going on behind them too - none of the dancey ravey nonsense he's been toying with of late, just lots of oldies, which suited the crowd down to the ground.
With most of Gong already onstage, we waited with bated breath & not a little trepidation to see what Daevid Allen would be wearing on his head tonight... last time I saw him back in the eighties, he hopped around like a demented gibbon with a pair of underpants on his noggin, declaiming awful poetry while a bunch of matronly earth-mother types danced about with silk scarves. It was not a pretty sight.
Happily he was in full-on Pothead Pixie mode tonight, and along with the venerable Gilli Smyth (the Queen Mum of hippies at 76, Gawd Bless 'Er!) they delivered 2 hours of solid gold Gongery, including all the stuff I really hoped they'd play - great show, and an inspiration to young whippersnappers like myself (stop sniggering at the back) - if they can do it at their age, I reckon I've got a few years left in me.