 | | The Twang (pic: Shirlaine Forrest) |
Make no mistake, The Twang truly are knuckle-draggingly poor. One minute’s worth of their live show is enough to make anyone with half a brain cell to rub together wonder why they are receiving the attention they are at present. It probably doesn’t help that they’re simply ripping off Happy Mondays circa Hallelujah and repackaging it with a covering of The Streets. Quite how they thought they’d get away with such a thing in Manchester beggars belief, but sure enough, a shout of "Where’s Bez?" from the crowd showed they didn’t. Indeed, coming to sell the image and attitude of baggy to the city that invented it is akin to sailing a slow boat up the coast filled with pressed carbon to sell to our Geordie cousins.  | | The Twang (pic: Shirlaine Forrest) |
By the time they’d staggered and smoked their way through one of the most unoriginal sets you’ll hear all year, the only piece of praise that they were worthy of was a swift pat on the back for rewriting Mad Cyril so many times. Had The Twang appeared a couple of years back, they might just have got away with this sorry mess. As it is, Shaun Ryder’s bankruptcy has been sorted out, they’ve reformed the Mondays and there just isn’t a need for The Twang’s tribute act. After all, Shaun and the boys simply do it better. | 
