Fleece & Firkin, Bristol (25/3/99)

As Witness exit stage left, a teenage Kate Moss skin-and-bone-alike stumbles through the crowd with
her fingers wrapped over her mouth. She is going to be sick. A few seconds later she is. This incident may have something to do with Witness. They are not part of the Stereophonic-Brian-Molko-new-Blur-single's-good-innit world she has come to know and the experience has left her dizzy, puking with uncertainty. The rest of us know how she feels. Xylophonic inspiration one minute, turgid guitar sludge the next. Witness have taken the fruit machine's noises from the end of Wigan Pier
and dumped them onto the wastelands of wide screen Atlantic rock; they are closer to Wilco than The Verve. And their lead singer looks like Argentinean centre-forward Hernan Crespo wearing David Essex's eyelashes.



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