So Rampworx put on a band night featuring 8 different artists? So over 300 people turned up? So its not exactly Glastonbury is it? Well.. no it isnt.. and that wasnt the point! The ‘poo pooers’ and the ‘nay sayers’ can continue to remain in their nice cosy bubble because its easy to criticise.. its easy to be cynical especially as the country plummets further into recession and unemployment figures begin to climb. Its, also ironic that the resurrection of 80’s fashion and music is likely to coincide with the economic holocaust that Margaret Thatcher inflicted when she ruled Britannia the first time leggings, big hair and guy liner came round. Ao, like the salmon swims upstream to return to its birthplace risking life and fin, Rampworx continues to brace itself against the winds of change and cynicism to try and offer a new dish to try, rather than the typical servings that they offer.

As it happens this rather ambitious move went down quite well with its typically audacious audience. Admittedly, there was some reservation amongst the Rampworx Friday NIght crowd.. there was no need. From Andy Pink’s soulful acoustic set in the makeshift Rampworx sound stage (games room) area to the controversial and often political acoustic verbal tennis of the Insurgents, the unplugged night was a beautifully sculptured collection of musical statues each representing their own melodic niche of indie, heavy rock, rap and punk.

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