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It is not often that a man in Cuban heels catches my eye – and by often I mean never. Cuban heels?! It’s 2011 I tell you. Nor dreadlocks, for that matter, with the possible exception of Captain Jack Sparrow and maybe Bob Marley back in the day. However, when stumbling upon the lead singer of the indie band King Charles in the Roadhouse in Manchester last week I was mesmerised not only by his quirky dress sense, charisma and – yes, Cuban heels – but also his very obvious talent.
If you haven’t come across them, King Charles are renowned for their often upbeat folk–pop songs which can draw parallels with the likes of Noah and the Whale and Laura Marling – poignant lyrics set to pretty beats. Some of their better known tracks include Beating Hearts, Ivory Road and We Didn’t Start The Fire, a fresh twist on an old classic and an altogether total tune. All of these epic songs were played along with many more as well as a few added extras to celebrate the last day of their recent tour. This inevitably ensured a merry atmosphere and allowed my love for Mr Charles to escalate.
Despite a very minor chundering incident which may or may not have been caught on CCTV and may or may not have caused me to listen to Love Lust via an outside air vent, I reckon I stood a very keen chance with the lead singer, assuming of course he likes the smell of whiskey and vomit. Anyway, high on spirits and who knows what else, the band eagerly invited all of the girls onto the stage to sing with them, in turn causing a minor stampede and a major outbreak of pointy-elbow–in–face syndrome. But with the gritty determination and thighs of a mountain goat, we were able to clamber onto the stage, stare lovingly at Charles and prance about like idiots. All in all a great night, all hail the King!