One thing's for sure, they're not here to see support act Richard R Black - a three-piece who have been listening to too much Ufucking2; all single-note guitar solos and over-emoted vocals. Actually, that's not fair - RRB got a good reception from the crowd, I just can't imagine anyone travelling further than, say, next door to see them headline.
Change-over is quick and Holmfirth welcomes, well, the smallest band in the world. First onstage is a short, tubby bloke - a bit scruffy and carrying a rucksack. He doesn't really look like a suicide bomber, but this is Holmfirth so it's a relief when he sets himself up at the keyboards and we realise it's Richie Castellano.
He's joined by guest bassist Danny Miranda, drummer Jules Radino and the two "main men", Buck Dharma and Eric Bloom. Only Miranda seems to be taller than Monty (who's doing the lights). To be brutally honest, this doesn't look like a 14-million-selling rock band - it looks like their roadies.
Opener This Ain't the Summer of Love gets the crowd up and going and is followed by Cities on Flame With Rock and Roll, Stairway to the Stars, Career of Evil and a handful of tracks I'm not familiar with (actually, I was surprised at how many I did recognise, not being a "fan" per se).
I'm just getting into the groove and mentally filing Dharma away as the second best guitarist I've seen this year when he breaks out what is possibly the worst solo I've ever heard. I'm sure it's very clever, but making his guitar bleat like a lamb does nothing but excite the Marsden crowd for all the wrong reasons. Poor Buck, not only is his solo spot a bit shite, but he is then blown off stage by Castellano's performance of Buck's own song, Last Days of May.
Ain't camera phones rubbish?
Miranda is introduced to the crowd and we're told that he's off to play with Paul Rodgers and Queen later in the year. The resounding boos should really have tipped the band off that playing a quick Queen medley wasn't going to go down particularly well. "I can't believe you boo-ed me" whines Danny. Welcome to Holmfirth, mate.
Highlight of the set is, for me, Burning For You which is followed by the (as silly as I'd expected) Godzilla. Sadly, this hosts the rhythm section's solos which they don't even have the decency to play in the right order for my joke to work*. The queue for the Gents is huge.
I'm caught slightly off-guard as cowbells chime (well, clink) and (Don't Fear) The Reaper makes an appearance earlier than I'd anticipated.
The night drifts to an end with a few more songs I don't know; it's a gentle landing rather than going out on a high.
I have seen much, much worse, but it could've used more cowbell.
*This would have been so much funnier if Jules had played his solo first...
A scientific expedition disembarks from its plane at the final outpost of civilization in the deepest Amazon rain forest. They immediately notice the ceaseless thrumming of native drums. As they venture further into the bush, the drums never stop, day or night, for weeks.
The lead scientist asks one of the natives about this, and the native's only reply is "Drums good. Drums never stop. Very BAD if drums stop."
The drumming continues, night and day, until one night, six weeks into the trip, when the jungle is suddenly silent. Immediately the natives run screaming from their huts, covering their ears. The scientists grab one boy and demand "What is it? The drums have stopped!"
The terror-stricken youth replies "Yes! Drums stop! VERY BAD!"
The scientists ask "Why? Why? What will happen?"
Wild-eyed, the boy responds,
"...BASS SOLO!!!"
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