A couple of weeks ago, I spent a fine weekend in Cologne, Germany. (Well in truth, I was taken ill on the Sunday so it wasn't all fine. Indeed, there are some German sanitation workers who i owe a big apology too. I will speak no more about it.)
I ended up there as a result of an implied obligation dating back 5 years when I was able to persuade someone to accompany me to Scandinavia to see my favourite singer - someone they, like most of the word, criminally, doesn't care for.
It was only fair that when one of their favourite bands played in Europe I would go.
That favourite band? Oh yes, that'll be Alphaville. *looks to camera, pulls Harry Hill's perplexed face*.
In all honesty I enjoyed it. They're quite good, in a Euro pop, marchy disco, occasional awkward male ballad way. I was rather taken by the bassist with the permanent smile. That helped a lot.