Secret Sisters, Norwich Arts Centre

To state the bleedin' obvious, yes, these ladies can sing.  For non-musos like ourselves, the harmonies rang out, the guitar-playing was pitch perfect and the renditions of tunes old and new were incredibly faithful and on the money.  Did that make the gig exciting? An event?  In a word, no. 
If this is your thing, then there was much to savour.  But upon leaving the venue and hearing one attendee comment that "it was ok, but my legs are aching from all that standing up", it was clear that, for some, the Owl included, there was just something missing.  
But by means of a review, that's all you're getting, because the real action happened after the show, when the Norwich Owl members achieved something we thought may be beyond our wildest dreams, and threw down the gauntlet to our friends in the north. In short, we Drank With The Band.  See, while y'all may dream about it, and Nick Hornby may write fiction about it (loser), we actually made it happen as, after some drunken badgering and much promise of us getting a round in, the band (well, one of them.  And the support act) joined us over the road in The Ten Bells, Norwich's finest post-gig boozer, to talk tunes and influences.
At least, that's what happened in our heads, and we are fairly certain that Lydia (our new secret sister) was absolute charm personified, dissecting the night's gig, filling us in on future shows (Hop Farm! We were drinking with royalty!) and letting us in on the glamorous life on the road we always thought was just like  Motley Crue told us it was, only with maybe slightly less shagging. ( It isn't.  It involves Premier Inn.) No, the problem was, the Owl were absolutely twatted, and therefore probably didn't provide the kind of post-gig relaxation our esteemed guests were after.
So, Lydia, if you should read this, then we are sorry.  Sorry for calling you "secret sister", and not Lydia.  Sorry for telling you over and over again that you really should be listening to the new Wild Beasts album, and for insisting that you need to check out the great, wonderful, amazing (etc) Laura Marling.  Sorry for promising to buy you a drink and then having to pool all our change just to make it happen.  Sorry for shouting, ranting, gesticulating and pointing and being unable to maintain an upright posture for very long.  Sorry sorry sorry.
But we remember (we think) a hug as you left us, and a claim that you had enjoyed our company.  So we look forward to doing it again.  And next time?  We won't drink so much.  As long as you don't play "Homeward Bound".

Chris