The Zingzillas rock Manchester

Screaming. Crying. General Hysteria. People had queued for hours to get a glimpse of their heroes.

I had no idea that a band whose lead singer was a six-foot purple monkey could incite such passion. Zak, Panzee, Tang and Drum had added an extra dimension of madness to the toy department.

Take That? McFly? Jedward. No, it was Zingzillas, the oversized CBeebies four-piece band that had sent the top floor of House of Fraser in Manchester in a state of rapture.

I had no idea that a band whose lead singer was a six-foot purple monkey could incite such passion. Zak, Panzee, Tang and Drum had added an extra dimension of madness to the toy department.

It wasn’t the kids you had to worry about either; it was the parents who were getting carried away.

As my three-year old daughter and I were led to the front (I think Daisy may be the youngest holder of a press pass this city has ever had), there were ructions. When the press photographer, a personable young bloke called Scott, normally more at home snapping club nights, moved in for a good shot, there were tuts and groans from people old enough to know better.

The kids, on the other hand, loved it. One young girls near the front – probably about three or four, didn’t stop dancing for the entire four-song set. The rest of them – aged anywhere between ten months and ten years – sat with eyes agog and mouth open.

Daisy nearly wet herself when Panzee, playing a pink guitar and jumping around like a loon, came and stood right next to her. This, it turned out, was so the helper on the music desk could push open her eyes, which had become wedged shut. She played on regardless though. What a pro.

It’s usual for a band to be touring new material, and true to form, the Zingzillas have an album out in time for Christmas, as well as a DVD.

Following the gig, there was a chance to line up for a photograph with the band members. Not wanting to incite a mini-riot, Daisy and I went backstage (the bit through the double doors, near the staff room and toilets) to have pictures taken in a less frenzied environment. We had to ask a cleaner to move his mop to make a bit of room. Rock and roll.

Pictures taken, high-fives all round and off they went to the shop floor, ready to greet the baying hordes once more. “Oh my gosh, that was amazing,” said Daisy as we went back down in the lift. And she was right.

Although I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I was sure Zak was miming.