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|Sunday, August 28th, 2016|
|feel the heat of all the years you were never mine
As usual, the drop-in has been closed for August so it's been all pretty chilled at work and I've been walking in across Hyde Park, making the most of the sun and the opportunity to take back some of the hours I worked over in the winter, although we've already hit that 'getting ready for the shelters' period which is all pretty depressing as the month draws to a close.
I stayed over at N's last Friday and then went home early the next morning to do my domestic duty in time to head out in the afternoon to The Windmill in Brixton where a bunch of bands organised under the Weird Sin
moniker were playing, although I never really got a handle on the theme drawing them all together. It started with Mig21
, who had a punkish feel and some unique dance moves, then were The Pink Diamond Revue
, the day's most remarkable offering, who combined a mesmeric mix of electronic and guitar sounds with projections and a mannequin; I hadn't previously noticed Crack Foxes
were on the bill, who I'd actually seen before, riot grrls mostly playing covers, then (after the carefully rationed free BBQ) came Flash House
, who were the day's heaviest band, and the europunk chaos of Raw Fun
. Hands off Gretel
were the nominal reason for us being there, cream_horn
having seen them at Whitby, and did not disappoint, then came the testosterone-fuelled silliness of Kiwi lads The Cavemen
; there were a couple more bands due but we pretty much called it a day at that, although I ended up going on a random work-related mission to Willesden before heading home.
On the Sunday M, N and I rendez-voused on a train out to Wendover and we re-did a walk around the Vale of Aylesbury which M&I had done before, crossing the Chequers estate and popping in on the amazing C14 wall paintings in the church in Little Kimble, which was really nice, and then had R and his (relatively) new girlfriend over for dinner in the evening.
I went out to the Shacklewell Arms on Monday: Alexander Teller
was opening up the program but seemed to have brought the most vocal crowd with him and the support was deserved; Carnivals
were fine but never quite distinguished themselves from your standard four-blokes-in-a-band for me and Haus
were more modern and musically complex but not really my thing. I was there for White Room
's psychedelic rock, which topped the night off nicely.
On Tuesday I actually went out in West Hampstead itself, for some drinks with E who has moved over this way. I went over to N's on Wednesday and we had a really nice night out at The Beehive with his housemate D. I was local again on Thursday, seeing bands at The Good Ship in Kilburn, which is even closer than Camden for me. It was another full bill and I really enjoyed the grungey Subterranean Popular
, they were followed up by Daisy Punch
and the trippy Lead Sister
, who were the reason I was there, being (like White Room) a band I had seen and enjoyed as support previously. Ice Baths
finished it off but they probably left me the coldest.
I ended up going up to Hendon for some drinks with E again quite late on Friday: poking around the limited nightlife options as we crawled our way back to his new place in Colindale. Then yesterday N & I were back in the van heading South: we stopped of for elevenses with Rachel & family near Southampton and then for lunch with J&E in Brockenhurst, going for a pleasant amble around the village and having to lure a horse out of the village hall grounds with a trail of apples, before heading on to my parents for dinner. We were down there to help N's new(old) housemate move up from Bournemouth so we headed down to load up all her stuff this morning, after a bracing wander along Branksome Chine in typical English Seaside weather, and drove back up to London.
|Monday, August 15th, 2016|
I'd come home early from Plas Dinam so I could attend a Housing Benefit tribunal on the Friday, which turned out not to be like the other tribunals I have attended and actually involved having to present a case to a judge: it wasn't my finest hour but it turns out there wasn't much we could have done. N came over that evening and then after a day of pottering I went over to his Saturday evening for a BBQ after which I headed out with all of his housemate to Whirl Y Gig: a club we've had recommended to us a few times on our nights out. We were a bit surprised to discover that The Camden Centre, where it is now held, resembled nothing so much as a school assembly hall, although we did eventually discover a nice little chill out area behind the stage. It had a nice crowd but suffered a little from a lack of variety in comparison to other such nights, although once we had finally got into the music a good time was had by all.
Sunday was pretty much entirely given over to recovery and I was back up in Tottenham Tuesday night when we went out to The Beehive to say goodbye to his housemate S, who's moving back to Germany. The next night I had my first gig in ages back at the Black Heart in Camden: there were four bands up, metallers Snakes
started off then it was This Year's Ghost
and Fizzy Blood
, who were new to me but really good. I was there for Allusondrugs
, who I've been trying to catch again since last year's Great Escape and were endearing, energetic fun.
N came over Thursday and on Friday I went to Brixton to hang out with Joe, who was down from Manchester: I was back there the next afternoon for a BBQ to celebrate a friend of N's birthday, which turned into the most indulgent, gourmet BBQ I've been to with her boyfriend producing course after amazing course all through to the evening. I stayed at N's then went down to the British Museum the next day to see the Sunken Cities exhibition with ketchgirl
, which was really good: it focused very much on the mix of Greek and Egyptian culture but had some incredible, monumental pieces as well as an added excitement from so much of it having been newly discovered. It was a gorgeous day so I wandered home up through Regent's Park and Primrose Hill.
|Saturday, July 30th, 2016|
|I'm leaving but I don't know where to
That's all my holidays done now: I had a pretty quiet couple of weeks before going away to Wales. The first week I just caught X-Men: Apocalypse
before it disappeared from the cinemas with S on the Wednesday, popped down to Lewisham for the Aberrant game Thursday and went to some drinks for a friend of N's 40th on the Friday, then all I did at the weekend was head down into Surrey on the Saturday to visit my Granny, who seemed to be doing fine. We had another Aberrant session on the Tuesday night the next week but otherwise I was in (mostly catching up on GoT with M) until heading off on holiday on the Friday.
Our biennial 'Buckland House' holiday with the Egham folk had this time decamped to Plas Dinam, near Newtown in Wales. themadone
drove me down to what turned out to be a big Victorian country house with a lovely view of the hills, a billiard room, it's own little museum and a mysterious door to the vaults. Pretty much all the usual folk were there (although, just staying for one week again, I did miss some of them) and it followed the usual pattern of relaxation, games and outings during the day whilst we took turns to cook big communal meals in the evenings. I feel like I did more 'nothing' than usual, which is a something that takes some adjusting to but probably did me some good: M, E & I set out for a walk up the local hills on the Sunday (which turned out to be one of the drizzliest of days), we ended up wandering through a wind farm, which I didn't mind in itself, I find them quite beautiful, but it did mean that all the paths had been made accessible to vehicles so we never felt particularly away from civilisation and we manged to go slightly off course on the way back, angering a local in the process.
Monday was the only day I went away any distance, getting a life up to Chester to walk around its ancient walls and poke various historical remains, as well as the unusual town centre. Tuesday was my cooking day and chorizo stew and fudge brownie pudding for 17 went pretty smoothly. We ventured out on a simpler but sunnier walk on the Wednesday, to the local town of Caersws, and marked my last night by staying up to see the dawn. I headed home a day early (due to work) on the Thursday, winding my way back to London via 4 trains, which I hadn't thought would be a big difference but it did make the whole thing seem noticeably shorter than usual. Still, many games were played (Scythe, Eldritch Horror, Concept, Nevermore, Tigris & Euphrates, Super Rhino, Camel Up, Captain Park's Imaginary Polar Expedition) and it was a lovely week.
|Sunday, July 10th, 2016|
|I was thinking, let's forget about the car
The journey back from Glastonbury on the Monday took about as long as the one there but was made much more bearable by the fact that I slept through most of it: I was straight back to work the next day but easing myself in gently by going to a conference until the drop-in was safely closed and N came over in the evening. Our Aberrant game got fully underway on the Wednesday and then a few of us went to the National on Thursday to see The Threepenny Opera
, which was one of those things I've always heard of without really knowing anything about: I think I was the least whelmed of our group by the play, there was nothing wrong with it but nothing that really engaged me either, although the others all seemed to be more positive in their appreciation.
With M away, I spent a lot of the weekend just hanging out at home, although I did go down to the pro-EU march on Saturday and met up with my old friend S, who had come up from Winchester, at its terminus in Parliament Square. It was nice to share the frustration, no matter how little effect it may have had on the course of events: there was a definite sense it was a lot of 'ordinary' people too, not just the usual protest suspects. Lovely Joe had announced he was in town so in the evening I went down to Brixton for his friend S's birthday: there were only about 15 of us dancing around her bedroom but a full-on DJ with decks pumping out tunes all the way through until morning and I had really good night. M arrived back from her hols in the afternoon on Sunday and we eagerly started devouring Games of Thrones, having denied ourselves until it was purchasable.
After some off-site work in her vicinity, I dropped in on hysteria74
last Monday for dinner. It was really nice to hang out and chat without it having to be some big thing: something I should be doing with friends more. N came down and met me after work for a drink on Tuesday: I went in late on Wednesday and it was such a nice day that I walked down and through Hyde Park. I was supposed to be back there for a mini version of their BST gigs Thursday evening but it had relocated to Tufnell Park. First up were Dream Wife
: an enjoyable riot grrrl band, next came provocative punk from Shame
: I couldn't decide if (musically) I liked them or not but I definitely wanted to see them again. The first two bands had been in the Boston Music Rooms, then we moved up to the Dome for the bands I'd mainly come for, the cheerfully bouncy Magic Gang
and now familiar favourites Spring King
, both of whom drew an explosion of energy from the young crowd. Headlining were The Wytches
, who I didn't know and had a rockier sound: I didn't really get into them but it may just be that, age catching up on me, I had worn myself out.
Friday night was a BBQ at N's with quite a few housemates and friends, which was a really nice evening. I headed down the next morning to meet ketchgirl
at The British Museum for the Sicilian Exhibition: it was good, focusing on the Greek and Norman amongst the island's many periods of foreign dominance, although oddly made no mention of the great Athenian disaster there. I headed home for a bit then went out into Camden in the evening to see The Smith Street Band
(lyrical Aussie punk) at The Underworld; the support band, Apologies, I Have None
, were also good value, although possibly more for their banter than their music. Three of the four of us then headed down to Brixton for Rumpus, which had moved to Jamm for their Summer party: we're hoping it will move back as the smaller venue allowed for less of the wandering and characterful touches which have been such a feature of our Rumpuses. The bands were pretty good though: The Filthy Spectacular
were a slightly more goth take on the usual gyspsy/carnival/steampunk mash-up, Prinz Friedrich
a Northern Europe flavoured melange of waltzes and weirdness in German military dress and then good old Tankus the Henge
. We weren't really feeling the DJing this time around so left after the bands had finished. Today N & I went down to Peckham to visit C&M, who I hadn't seen for an age.
|Sunday, July 3rd, 2016|
|the sun arose revealing goosebumps on your arm
So we had survived to the start of the festival, which began with the sound of swearing from neighbouring tents as the Referendum result began to make itself known. I think it's safe to say that had Glastonbury been its own polling district, its results would have born a remarkable similarity to Gibraltar's, so it did cast an odd mood over proceedings. There seemed to be a collective decision, however, that while we stayed in our own little bubble we could pretend the rest of the world didn't exist and try to avoid accepting the painful reality until spat back out into it on Monday.( Glastonbury Details Part IICollapse )
|Saturday, July 2nd, 2016|
|so much went unsaid so we stared at clouds instead
Glastonbury Executive Summary: it was fun! I had an Actual Ticket this year and was camping with M & E but managed to meet up with pretty much everyone I planned to who was there. We didn't get rained on that much, but the occasional shower was just enough to make sure the pre-existing mud never dried out, which made trekking about the site pretty hard work. Every year that I go, I seem to spend less and less time at the main stages and I mainly spent the festival watching small, fun, energetic acts that I've seen before, which I had some regrets about: there was a whole other festival I could have had where I saw PJ Harvey, Sigur Ros, Rat Boy, Kurt Vile and Muse but I was mostly surprised that there weren't more bands playing that I knew, since I've made quite a bit of effort to keep up with 'new' bands this year. The atmosphere was great as usual, a sense of community which was particularly welcome in the wake of outside events, although I didn't have any standout 'magical moments' or encounters with strangers this year.( More Details Part ICollapse )
|Tuesday, June 21st, 2016|
|Hey June, why d'you have to come around so soon?
We were up in the Lake District for a week, having hired a cottage for 8 in Grasmere: the basic plan for the holiday was to walk up a hill every day and then cook an enormous meal every evening. A larger group meant people less enthusiastic about the vertical could do their own thing a couple of days, although we all stayed together for the first few days while H and baby were there. We were really lucky with the weather and I lived in shorts the whole week: there was only one day of rain, which we used to check out Grasmere's Wordsworth industry. Cousin A, N & myself headed into Keswick one evening to meet up with another cousin who lives there, his parents happened to be up as well so it turned into quite a gathering.
Mostly so I remember where I've been:( Here"s a blow-by-blow accountCollapse )
A few hours after getting home, I headed out to Planet Angel with cream_horn
and some enthusiastic first-timers, now also up at Electrowerkz, which was a lot of fun, even if I did bail shortly after 3 in pursuit of other adventures. I spent most of Saturday recovering enough to head up to Nambucca to see some bands in the evening: Lighthouse
, The Shantics
, rocky Irish dudes Otherkin
and Baby Strange
. I met up with N to poke around some bits of the British Museum on Sunday but otherwise spent it at home.
I was back into work last week but it finally seems to have started quietening down. I went to the post-Orlando shooting Old Compton Street vigil on Monday night, which was an odd kind of affair: the street was totally jam-packed but when the appointed hour clicked round there were a couple of minutes of silence, then a couple of minutes of cheering and that was about it. I spent much longer trying to make my way to the other end of the street afterwards: it's not often I have much of a sense of 'my community' but this one time it did feel important to be there and among them.
I met up with S for the first time in an age on Tuesday and we went to see Captain America: Civil War
in Leicester Square, pretty much the only place it was still on. Thursday evening saw me back in Lewisham for the Aberrant game which is starting up: conveniently, I'd had to go to Woolwich for work in the afternoon, where I had all my prejudices confirmed by witnessing a fight within two minutes of exiting the station. N and I ate out in Seven Dials on Friday, then on Saturday I headed down to Havant to spend the day with K: a couple of her friends came over for a BBQ and we had a really nice evening hanging out. I got back into Waterloo just as N was hanging out on the South Bank on Sunday so we wandered along there before I headed home in time for ketchgirl
to come over for dinner; correspondingly, we were the dinner guests last night for my ex T over in Leytonstone. Glastonbury tomorrow so busy spending the evening packing waterproofs!
|Sunday, June 5th, 2016|
|I took a nightbus down to the park
We had a work event a few Thursdays ago to say thank you to all our volunteers, funders and other supporters: it was swankier than usual, at St. Columba's Church with posh canapes, and I did wonder whether it might elicit grumblings about whether it was the sort of thing a small charity should be spending money on but the staff had all turned out to help and it seemed to go really well.
On the Friday N and I ate at the last remaining Stockpot before cousin A drove us up to his folks' where we were staying the night before we all headed over to Wales the next day. Another cousin was over from Chicago with his family and so a convocation of the clan had been called: pretty much everyone was there, including one of my Mum's cousins who I've only really got to know as an adult but I really like. It was lovely and meant N has now been completely integrated into that side of the family, although it rushed by in a few hours without feeling like I'd properly spoken to anyone, before we started the long trip back to Oxfordshire, then Ealing, then home. I then didn't venture from my flat at all on Sunday, knowing it was going to be a while before I had the chance to spend some time at home again.
Monday night I ventured down to my old (now undergoing massive construction) haunts in SE London (via some very dubious travel choices) to meet up with people to plan some potential tabletopping, which is pretty exciting. Tuesday I was out at Dingwalls to see Yak
: I got there pretty late but still saw one support band, whose identity I have lost to the mists of time but I remember being a little more straightforwardly rocky than the chaos of screaming guitars, flailing limbs and a crowd-surfing frontman that followed. N came over on Wednesday and then I was back out for another lively gig on Thursday: Spring King
at the Scala, although the crowd were already full of energy for the two supports, Get Inuit
(who've been on my list to check out since last year's Great Escape and were really good) and the also impressive Magic Gang
I had Friday off to head up to Empire, which turned out to be a great event: dry weather, more and more familiar faces popping up, some fun battles, lots of stuff going on for those that like that sort of thing and some enjoyable evening carousing: songs around fires, an IC debauch, bars, old friends and invading strangers' camps to find somewhere to carry on drinking. We came back on the Monday and, despite my limited engagement with the plot that's out there, it didn't feel as much as though we had run out of things to do as it sometimes does on the 3-night events; it's just a shame that impending parenthood will keep some of our group away for a while.
I had three days back at work and in London before heading off on holiday for proper, which did involve some pretty hectic getting things done, especially for the former. I stayed at N's Tuesday night, spent an evening-in sorting out holiday stuff on Wednesday then, when I finally escaped work on Thursday, headed over to Hackney Wick to a warehouse space where Arrows of Love
were playing a show to be recorded for NTS Radio. It was all very Hackney (the girl filming it all with an enormous VHS camcorder was a particular highlight) but gloriously so and the support from The Primordial Soup
and the rockier Gang
were enjoyable entrees to the usual Arrows of Love chaos. I slipped away pretty much as soon as they were done but then made some epically bad transport decisions, ended up in the desolate wasteland of the Stratford Westfield and didn't get home until 2.15am, relieved that I was already on holiday.
|Sunday, May 8th, 2016|
|when at anchor we ride on the Portsmouth tide, we have plenty of time for play
Last Sunday was M's birthday and we seemed to successfully manage to fill it with things that make her happy: brunch, kitchenware for presents, art courtesy of the Delacroix: The Making of Modernism
exhibition at the National Gallery and then friends over for roast beef in the evening. I enjoyed the exhibition: it did focus a lot on his influence on later artists, so we had quite a lot of the impressionists and beyond thrown in, which did leave me feeling that it could have stood to have more actual Delacroix, a couple of the rooms only had one piece by him in them.
N had stayed over and we went off to a practically deserted Spitalfields and met up with Tammy for coffee at Rough Trade, but I otherwise had a Bank Holiday of home-stuff and catching up on some work. After work on Tuesday I got the train down to Portsmouth to have dinner with cryx
, whom it was lovely to see, before heading back to London again. Determined not to miss all of the hot weather being stuck in an office, I sat in Hyde Park and read for an hour and a half after work the next day and again on Friday evening. In between, I managed to enact a rather convoluted plan to go home to vote after work on Thursday, then immediately back into town to see The Maids
at the Trafalgar Studios with the Culture Club folk. It was very deliberately not played in a naturalistic way, which suited Genet's typically lurid subject matter but sometimes became a bit of a distraction; it didn't change my world but certainly provoked plenty of discussion.
Yesterday N & I went up to Birmingham to catch up with some school friends I'd not seen for a while: we wandered around the city centre, admiring some of the architectural developments, had afternoon tea and checked out some art: some Dan Flavin light installations at the lovely Ikon gallery and then a wander through the city's grand main gallery/museum, which mostly featured a large collection of Pre-Raphaelites and the Staffordshire Hoard of Mercian gold.
The train back to London handily deposited me not far from The Water Rats
where I was going to see some bands: they were all good, White Room
my favourite new discovery, although the more anthemic Judas
seemed to have the most adherents in the crowd, Clay
had a more electronic sound and were probably the least my-kind-of-thing; I was mostly there to see Sisteray
, who were on last and slightly suffered from the crowd having thinned out by then. A guy from another band I've been to see, who I've never spoken to but added me on Facebook recently, ended up sitting next to me at one point but, in an almost parodically English way, neither of us made any attempt to turn the online link into a meat-space one.
|Sunday, May 1st, 2016|
|it's fair to say the turbulence was kicking in
I went over to N's on Monday night, then had dinner chez ketchgirl
, to facilitate more sharing of graphic novels, the next evening. Since then it's mostly been music :-)
Wednesday started with a bit of art as N & I dropped in on one of Fiona
's private views, which was conveniently just round the corner from The Lexington, where I was going to see Beach Baby
. First up were Tones
, who were young, rocky and probably my favourite of the night, then came Babeheaven
who had an ethereal electro kinda sound and a lead singer who seemed effortlessly lovely; Beach Baby
were one of those bands I'd seen supporting someone and thought deserved further investigation, although for a lot of their set I couldn't really work out why I'd thought that as they seemed fairly MOR, not helped by a pretty moribund crowd (apart from one very drunk Frenchman), then right at the end they pulled out two or three really good songs, which I guess must have been what drew me to them last time.
On Thursday I was much more certain about the band I was going to see : Broken Hands
at Dingwalls. As with Tones the night before, I had a vague feeling I may have seen the first support, Tangerines
, before: what they played wasn't quite my thing, there was an Americana edge to it which felt a bit pastichey, but they nonetheless seemed very good at it. Dolomite Minor
were more up my street but Broken Hands
were definitely a cut above: they had filled the stage with enormous silver umbrellas, enhancing the ideas of dissociation and liminal states of consciousness that already exist in their music, and although they have some more average songs, as well as some real stand-outs, Dale has enough energy and stage presence to carry the crowd through.
On Friday I met up with TQS for a couple of post-work drinks, sitting out on a square in all that new development behind Kings X, before he hopped on the train back to Sheffield, then headed home for a bit before going out to Negative Creep at Nambucca, a rocky bar up on the Holloway Road I've wanted to check out for ages, with an Italian friend. It was billed as a grunge night, although it seemed to be all kinds of early 90s rock and alternative: it wasn't rammed but had a friendly crowd of regulars and there was a bit of dancing.
Yesterday N & I went to an afternoon gig, back at the Lexington: the Loud Women collective, whose event we'd really enjoyed before, were putting on a gig that was specifically parent-and-child friendly, so there was face-painting available, dancing competitions, swearing edited out of songs and some bands pared down their noise levels too. I'd been most keen to see Argonaut
, who had probably modified themselves the most, so I slightly regretted not having taken another recent opportunity to see them. The Wimmin's Institute
were very funny again and Crack Foxes
were the only band new to us, a rocky trio doing mostly covers (Hole, Elastica, Nirvana). Piney Gir
was headlining, although she slightly suffered from kids who had been there from near the start (they were mostly 2-6 year olds) having worn themselves out and needing to be taken home before she came on, although she remained her usual, perky self.
|Saturday, April 23rd, 2016|
|sure you were swift when the handsome greek boys dropped by with gifts
April seems to be getting away from me! It started excellently with our return to Rumpus, this time in our best intrepid adventurer gear (First Prize to E's pith helmet), where a couple of bands that I had seen at Glastonbury last year were playing: Tell Tale Tusk
and later King Porter Stomp
, I also saw a more chilled out gypsyish outfit late on in proceedings called The Debt Collective
. A good time was had by all and I went out clubbing on the Saturday night as well, having decided to celebrate my birthday back at Feeling Gloomy
, who were having a Depeche Mode night, one of N's favourite bands. It worked pretty well, with a wave of people just coming for some drinks beforehand, then a mostly different bunch coming from about 10pm, who all came downstairs to the club. It took a little while to fill up and I had the usual birthday experience of feeling like I didn't talk properly to anyone but dancing occurred and people seemed to enjoy themselves. I'd left the rest of the weekend pretty empty, figuring I'd need plenty of recovery time, but I did manage a walk out on the Heath with M on Sunday.
I went back to the Sam Wanamaker theatre on the Monday and watched Cymbeline
with Cousin A: it wasn't quite as uncomfortable, having learnt some lessons from my first visit there, and the play was pretty entertaining, with an amusingly long explanatory sequence at the end as all the play's secrets are unfolded. The rest of the week was pretty quiet: my actual birthday was the Wednesday which I just spent at home and cooked some food for M and N.
On the Friday I headed down to Southampton and spent the weekend trawling around some of the usual suspects: R & family Friday night, then down to my parents Saturday daytime (we went for some pleasant little walks along the Milford coast and Keyhaven Marshes) before heading back up into town to The Dolphin in St Denys where the tail end of a cool little 'festival' the pub was having in its beer garden was taking place; I'd gathered together Jonny, Allen and a guy I'd got to know through one of my London friends who'd gone to Uni down there. Jonny let me crash over again and, after going out for breakfast, I headed back to Totton to hang out with Lee on Sunday before getting the train (rather later than planned thanks to some annoying timings) back up to London.
I went out to Chelmsford on Monday evening, then Tuesday saw Midnight Special
(which wasn't that special) at a cinema tantalisingly close to home with M & A, only to head off to N's afterwards so I could get to see him post-show, although some pleasant late evening socialising and food with his housemates made it well worth it. I went to FNB on the Wednesday, managed a stroll though Hyde Park on my way home on Thursday (having been feeling like I was stuck inside through all the Spring sunshine), then went out to The Black Heart on Friday night: it was put on by Sisteray, but they weren't playing, instead it was Paradise Underground
, along with Lighthouse
and The Bulletproof Bomb
, who I'd previously seen supporting Sisteray there.
The weekend was mostly given over to decorating (we've nearly finished!), although I did sneak away for the last Angels game in Egham on Saturday evening, which finished very satisfyingly with us trying to steer a middle way between the relentless machinery of heaven and the orchestrator of our woes, who was happy to destroy everything in her efforts to take it down.
The shelters have now been closed three weeks but work doesn't seem to be calming down yet, especially as we've been having to deal with re-absorbing the numbers from the second drop-in, which we open over the winter, and a couple of difficult situations on top of everything else. I had anysbryd
over to dinner on Monday, went to see the show N was working on this week (Godspell
, which was pretty hectic but enthusiastically performed) as a means of seeing him on Tuesday, was back at the Sam Wanamaker with A to see A Winter's Tale
on Wednesday (a grim first half giving way to lots of bucolic comedy in the second) and yesterday had a lovely night at the Griffin catching up with barty
Not much on this weekend: N & I went down to check out the Shakespeare Walk along the South Bank today: 37 screens were supposed to be showing 10 minute excerpts of all of his plays but lots of them weren't working when we wandered along, which at least made it a more manageable endeavour, even if some weren't especially audible. It was nice to see the chronology, though: I think I've got to see four more to catch 'em all! My only plan for Sunday is to pop down to the end of the Marathon as a couple of my colleagues are running to raise money for us.
|Thursday, March 31st, 2016|
|With hey, ho, the wind and the rain
I was at the nightshelter on Monday last week, then Tuesday went to see Vukovi
at the Barfly: unsurprisingly, the support were both on the heavier end of the scale. Chasing Cadence
were impressive youngsters, very much of-a-type but done well (the lead singer had definitely perfected the rawwwk voice), whilst Empire
's singer had a much more impressive range but their songs grabbed me less overall. Vukovi
were good, with a more responsive crowd than last time: although it didn't really get completely into it until a chap slipped forwards, threw himself bodily into a few people and then slipped away again as carnage ensued. I wondered whether some bands have ringers they plant in crowds to get them going.
I was at The Garage the next night where Sisteray
were doing one of their 'guerilla gigs': this usually means they announce at the last minute that they're going to open up for a band they would usually feature above on the bill. Their set was punchy and fun: I was going to get my fiver's worth and stick around for the other three bands too but the next one on (a keyboard and drums duo) were so bad that I figured I could go home and still have plenty of evening there instead.
N came over on Thursday night and then I launched off on my usual Easter Weekend trip to a muddy field for Empire. The new (last minute) site had the playing area quite a distance from the OOC camping field and given the site was already very muddy, no-one was allowed to drive their IC stuff onto the site, which is where we began to regret having gradually accumulated such an elaborate set-up. We were pretty exhausted by the time we'd lugged it all up there and erected everything, which didn't leave us much energy to throw ourselves into the Friday night game on a field we hadn't had the chance to explore in the daylight. A bunch of us did manage to make the most of the evening, although I woke up the next morning to the realisation that the zip no longer worked on my tent and the strong winds were making it pretty chilly in there. We were lucky with the battles on both Saturday and Sunday, which were fun and took place in the dry, but the weather was generally sub-optimal: there was only one really torrential downpour while I was there, so I never actually got wet, but the winds didn't really abate and having to constantly sure-up our awning and trudge through the mud got pretty tiresome. I was able to move into the South Wing of urizen
's tent mansion for the Saturday night and Sunday daytime was actually pretty sunny but the promise of more wind and rain for all of Sunday night and Monday was enough to convince us to beat a retreat, so we packed up after lunch and headed home a day early. Everyone got a lot less done in game than usual but still had a good time: nice to see some old, familiar faces too, who didn't seem too put off by the weather!
M had also been away for Easter, so I made the most of my unexpected Monday at home, with the flat to myself, and the drop-in has been closed for this week so I've been mostly spending the week trying to catch up with stuff as much as possible, although I did make my last visit to the shelter, before it closes at the end of the week, on Tuesday evening. I went over to N's yesterday and his whole house was all in together for once, which was lovely: N cooked mac & cheese for the seven of us and we broke out the Cards Against Humanity.
|Sunday, March 20th, 2016|
|stop making me older, start making me new
The Monday before last had Model Aeroplanes
playing at the Barfly: they're a Scottish band I've been following since last year's Great Escape, they have a poppier, more uplifting sound than I usually go for but are pretty infectiously danceable: of the support Shiners
were a straightforwardly guitar-heavy band, whilst Lisbon
had more of an electronic element. Model Aeroplanes
' singer was losing his voice and they perhaps weren't at their best but still nice to see them headlining shows at last.
Rather bigger in scale was seeing Fat White Family
play on the Wednesday, down at the Coronet; first on were the gloriously named I, Ludicrous
, who were kinda like a comedy version of The Fall, and then blaring dance music Paranoid London
: there are situations where I may have enjoyed that kind of thing, as a support act was not one of them. "I'm glad he's looking more healthy," one FWF veteran was saying as we stumbled away from the gig, "But they did have more edge when he was on heroin." There may have been less on-stage antics, but the seething mass of sweaty flesh that constituted the crowd certainly had edge enough for me.
I went to a pretty weird event with N at some Google building near Old Street the next night: it was the launch of an app called ReVu, which helps you edit video footage, remove the fish-eye effect from GoPros etc., which comprised of a demo of the app, a talk from a futurologist and then a career overview from a sound artist called Scanner
, whom we were mostly there to see; he performed some music for about 10 minutes at the end, which was really lovely, but not really worth the hours of talking we'd sat through first.
I was at the shelter on the Friday, then spent pretty much the whole weekend decorating, other than escaping to Kentish Town on Saturday night for one of N's old friends' 40th: we kinda huddled in the corner with the people we already knew but it was still fun.
I was supposed to be going to the BFI on Monday with Cousin A, but he was sick so I trekked to Ealing to pick up the tickets, then back in again to take N instead: we saw High Rise
, which we'd read for Book Group and had been pretty faithfully translated onto the screen, and there was a Q&A with Ben Wheatley and some of the cast afterwards. Spanish seems to have sputtered to a halt for now and I ended up on a boat in Gallions' Reach on Tuesday night instead.
N & I were also celebrating our 4th anniversary this week, so, either side of going to the Shelter on Thursday, we went out for dinner around here on Wednesday and then on a gin-tasting at the City of London Distillery on Friday. It was suavely delivered, with an expert blend of history, science and drinking.
Saturday was mostly taken up with more decorating, but then I headed out to the gothic splendour of Oakley Court (further from Windsor than it looks on the map!) to celebrate anonymous_james
' 40th with a very nice meal; it was good to see some familiar faces I don't really cross paths with anymore. N & I checked out the Wellcome Collection's rather unsubstantial exhibition on states of consciousness this morning and now I'm trying to just take it easy for the rest of the weekend.
|Sunday, March 6th, 2016|
|not in a Roman tomb, or an Italian womb, but buried deep in English slime
The Saturday night in Manchester turned out to be less a party than a bit of a hanging out: it was just a few of us sitting around, even the usual bedroom dancing didn't happen; I think I would have benefitted from being spurred into action a bit more but it was still fun and for once I'd managed to book a train back home on the Sunday, meaning I wasn't rushing off too early and could spend some more time chilling out with Joe, although I couldn't quite face dealing with M's Mum and friends when I got in and skulked off to my room like a teenager.
I had a pretty standard week, Rad Spanish, the shelters, some evenings in with N, before escaping work early on Friday to meet up with K and another friend mid-afternoon at Gordon's Wine Bar to celebrate her birthday: N joined us for a bit, then wisely left us to it as we careened off around the Strand and Old Compton Street, picking up a random Mancunian from the Retro Bar on the way, then back to a hotel-room in Southwark to dance around to 90s tunes until the early hours.
We parted ways after some brunch, then I engaged in some productive domesticity before heading down to Leatherhead to watch the Godalming Operatic Society's production of The Grand Duke
, one of Gilbert & Sullivan's most rarely performed works. The audience and ambience were much as you may expect but, although the singing by a couple of the men could have been stronger, the production values were actually pretty impressive. On Sunday a bunch of us met up for a tour of the Roman fort gate which it turns out exists locked in what is essentially the back office of a car park next to the Museum of London: it felt like the tour could have had more substance to it but it was definitely worth a fiver to see. I headed on to the pub for our Empire group's pre-season planning meeting then on from there to the shelter in the evening.
With M and C from Book Club, I took advantage of The Royal Court's £10 Mondays again to see Caryl Churchill's Escaped Alone
, a shortish piece interspersing four old ladies sitting in a garden and nattering over cups of tea with lurid post-apocalyptic monologues, which was better than it may sound. On Tuesday I was at The Lexington for a consistently impressive line-up of oddball-duo Her's
, confident, soulful singer Tom Grennan
, chirpy band Motes
and finally Yonaka
, who I'd come to see, having caught them as support somewhere before: they were thrashier than I remember and no worse for it.
A straightforward and successful cooking session at FNB on Wednesday gave way to an exciting coda as some local chancers tried to extort £150 out of one of my fellow volunteers to return the keys he had lost; I did a lot of standing around guarding his bike in ill-lit New Cross backstreets whilst he went off to tense rendez-vous, but it all ended happily. I checked out the Whitechapel Art Gallery's late-opening Thursday with N, where their little exhibition on the Kindred of the Kibbold Kift captured my attention far more than any of the art, and was gigging again last night with ketchgirl
: one-girl-and-guitar Charlotte Carpenter
had a good voice but struggled to keep the crowd's attention, an issue that energetic purveyors of Bedfordshire bluegrass, CC Smugglers
, did not have any problems with.
This weekend's going to be pretty uneventful: M and I are spending it starting to decorate the hall (the last room that needs doing!), although I mixed it up by going off to work at the shelter this evening.
|Saturday, February 20th, 2016|
|the canals in Camden are filled with bottles tonight
N has been in Show Hell for the last few weeks so two Saturdays ago, having taken some stuff to the tip in Kentish Town, I took a surprisingly easy stroll over to Holloway, where he was camped out in the Pleasance Theatre and managed to spend some time with him on his lunch break. I wandered home through Camden then went out again in the evening for the Feeling Gloomy
Bowie Night we had booked before his death and which had obviously taken on a whole different significance since. It was nice to see emilydongray
there, in addition to my usual clubbing compadres, and much dancing ensued.
I reunited with some of the same people out in Egham the next day for Daniel’s 1st Birthday: if the rest of his childhood birthdays are as well attended he’ll be doing well, although he may want more guests his own age at some point. On Monday I took advantage of the Royal Court’s £10 Tickets On The Day policy to go to see Yen
in their upstairs space with Cousin A. It was a depiction of Feltham youth and really good: not exactly cheerful but often funny as well as visceral and powerful.
I was at the Shelter on Tuesday then had hysteria74
over for dinner the next evening, which was also pretty much the last time I got to hang out with our Temporary Housemate S before she headed back to Canada at the weekend.
On Thursday the 2016’s Gig Schedule got going in earnest: I popped over to Dingwalls to see Pretty Vicious
(with decent support from Fronteers
and, especially, Baby Strange
). On Friday I went back to the Pleasance to watch one of the shows as an excuse to see N for a bit: alarmingly I was coinciding with a musical about cheerleaders, Bring It On
, but it was actually well produced and pretty fun.
When I headed back home from his on Saturday, the flat was in chaos as M’s Mum and partner had descended and all kinds of DIY was going on, turning the place upside down, albeit in a good cause, so I wasn’t too sad to be heading back to Dalston in the evening to see Arrows of Love
. I knew a couple of groups floating around, which was nice: T&A and friends, for whom the Shacklewell is their local, as well as A&co., who know the band. The supports both purported to be playing their first gigs: “and our last” according to first-on High Wasted Genes
, although that hopefully won’t be the case for Lead Sister
, who really impressed. The Arrows’ set was the most coherent I’ve seen them manage to deliver and afterwards we went back with some of them to a little warehouse party somewhere near Hackney Wick, complete with a box of wine bottles that A had bought. People were really friendly although I danced more than I socialised before an arduous trek back on early-morning buses to snatch a few hours’ sleep before the DIY started back up.
I made lunch for the workers then went up to Stoke Newington for tea with ex-housemate R, who was in town en route to her next adventure in China: we ended up in an atmospheric cellar wine-bar, although I think we may have been taken for a Valentinesing couple. Then I headed down from there to the Peckham Plex to watch Deadpool
, who it’s exciting to have move into the city, rather than out of it.
I was at the Shelter on Monday this week, then Tuesday at the 100 Club to see Spring King
(more energetic young indie rock, much as Pretty Vicious
were) as well as catch Beach Baby
, of whom the former were probably my favourite, in support. Then Wednesday what is rapidly becoming The Usual Crowd turned out for another Gaz Brookfield
gig at The Monarch: of the two other solo acoustic guys supporting him, Trapper Schoepp
had a good voice but sang heavily about Americana (his fondness for prairies and wagons prompting venta
to speculate that Trapper may be his profession rather than his name) and Nick Parker
was very funny.
I managed to fit in two of my many friends with February 18th birthdays this year, a bunch of us (mostly school friends) went out for dinner to Belgo with Ralph on the day itself and then yesterday I slipped away early to take the 6 ½ hour coach trip to Manchester to celebrate with Lovely Joe. We eschewed the usual Friday night out to hang out in his flat and have a 1am roast dinner and now I’m just waiting for the others to get up to start making preparations for tonight’s party.
|Saturday, February 6th, 2016|
|where's the harm spending an evening manning the old barricades?
Work was the predominant flavour of the week post-N's gig, with an evening in the shelters on Thursday then heading into work on the Saturday too, as there's quite a bit of pressure to try to move our working guests on out of the shelter at the mo and that was the only really way to be able to sit down properly with them. I did meet up with N for some food out on Friday evening though, and then on Saturday we went to the BFI to see a showing of Todd Haynes' Poison
which I've been on the look-out for for years. It's three interwoven, unrelated (but all Genet-inspired) stories in various pastichey styles; I quite enjoyed it, although N was less convinced. We headed from there up to Leytonstone for my ex T's boyfriend's birthday, which followed the usual formula of parties at their flat but it was good to catch up as it had been a while.
On the Sunday I headed out to Surrey to do family things: I had suggested teaming up with my cousin to visit our Granny on the same day that she had arranged to meet my brother and his family for lunch, so we had decided to combine them both. It was good to see them, as we'd not spent Xmas together, and visiting Granny mob-handed didn't go too badly: she didn't seem overwhelmed, as she had sometimes previously been by the little ones, although I think conversation would have been easier for her with a smaller number.
I was back at the shelter in the evening on Monday, then Tuesday evening was the first evening of a Rad Spanish
group I'd heard about: a group of people from the activist community coming together to self-teach Spanish (inevitably in Hackney), there were around 8 of us, although I was the eldest by about a decade, and it was all pretty encouraging. Some were real beginners so it's been mainly going over old ground so far, but the main thing I want is conversation practise outside of the same things I use again and again at work. I took Wednesday off as TOIL and had a gloriously uneventful day and evening, catching up with home stuff, the we went out for a flat curry (plus N) on Thursday as our temporary flatmate is trying to eat it as much as possible while she is over from Canada, where (like Australia) they don't really do it well.
Last Friday we celebrated N's housemate's birthday, a nice contrast of cocktails and Mexican streetfood at the hipsterish bar attached to her Tottenham studio then pints and pool locked-in at the rough and ready Irish pub round the corner, N trekked down to Chelsea with me for brunch before I went into the office and then the shelter in the evening on Saturday. I'd pretty much forgotten until I left that I'd said I would go to Debbie
, the wandering gayish night that only plays female-fronted acts, with our friend T over at the Shacklewell Arms. I headed over, drank my way through the lingering hangover and we danced as best we could in the crush of its packed-out back room. I was back in work on Sunday too (but only for a couple of hours before heading up to poke around the William Morris Gallery with N and D) and had to cancel my Monday night plans to head down to Roehampton to hand over a wodge of cash to a dodgy landlord, but at least it meant the extra hours had paid off.
We had Spanish again on Tuesday and I was back at FNB on Wednesday, we're probably just going to manage once a month until our co-ordinator has finished her finals but there were a couple of new volunteers and lots of people came to eat. I went to the shelter Thursday night but yesterday went to the National Gallery with a couple of Book Group folk to see Ali Smith do a talk related to How To Be Both
, which we'd just read, and its relationship with all of the art in the novel. She seemed pretty lovely and the whole thing left time to head home and have a bit of an evening in as well.
|Wednesday, January 20th, 2016|
|we're not down with electronica, but we've all got a harmonica
I've realised that I edited out of history a visit to the British Museum in my last entry, N & I catching the Egyptian Religion After the Pharaohs
exhibition between Xmas and NYE, which traced the shift from Roman to Christian to Islamic dominance, and the blurring between the various traditions, pretty effectively.
I started last week with a couple of evenings in, hanging out with our new flatmate, N came over on the Tuesday too. I was at the shelters on Wednesday and then a few of us went to see Hapgood
at the Hampstead Theatre on Thursday evening: it's a Cold War era Stoppard, one that didn't do so well when it came out, although it seemed pretty much up to his usual calibre, exploring our capacity for duality via both spying and physics in typically wordy fashion.
On Friday N and I poked around the Kings Cross end of the London Lumiere light festival: it was pretty crowded, despite the cold, and I enjoyed the experience of lots of people out and about on the streets of London, sharing something, probably more than the installations themselves, some of which we couldn't really get near, and we warmed up with a curry rather than head into town to catch the rest. After another Stoke Newington brunch the next morning, I met up with D (who was briefly over from Switzerland) on the South Bank and it was lovely to catch up, even if he's having a bit of a tough time. I popped home for a couple of hours before heading out to Egham for our Angels
game, then back in and up to Stamford Hill for FNB M's birthday at his fabulously hostel-style house there. It was definitely a young person's party, of the kind I rarely get the opportunity to go to these days, with giant cardboard structures, friendly strangers and hallway DJs, who were still going when I bowed out at 4.30 in the morning, traipsing back across a London being gently dusted with snow.
It mostly didn't seem to settle but when M and I went for a tramp around the Heath the following afternoon, there were some scattered clumps of white stuff, which had been dragged together to make a couple of very sorry looking snowmen here and there. We'd invited some people over for a Sunday roast in the evening but it turned out to be just the three of us plus N, which was their loss as it was definitely one of our better efforts.
I had Monday off to head up to Oxford to help out at the Iris 'Festival of Lost Cities' at the Classics Centre there, which largely involved trying to cut up food as quickly as the ravening hordes of school children were devouring it whilst dressed as a Roman soldier. I didn't make it to any of the talks this time (Bettany Hughes and Martha Kearney were among the dignitaries) but it all seemed to go really well.
Last night I was at the Fiddlers' Elbow, a gloriously scuzzy Camden gig-pub I hadn't encountered before, to see N make his muscial debut at Zero Wave
an Experimental Music night our friend B runs. N was performing as a guest artist with B's duo Far Rainbow
: his modular synths adding to their percussion and looped sounds for a single 20ish minute piece with a very urban feel, underscored by some quite sinister industrial sounds. It was definitely an emotional journey. Also on the bill were a Classical experimental collective, who had one piece I really liked, based on the Tube Map, which changed with each performance depending on which lines they took. The big draw was Peter Zinovieff
who played four recent compositions through his laptop. We rather guiltily snuck out before the last act and bundled back to Tottenham with N's housemates in my first Uber.
|Monday, January 11th, 2016|
|he left the coast and overdosed on that London sound
I managed to get ill the day before NYE, which was unfortunate timing, throwing all my "Catch Up On All The Things" plans for the Xmas-New Year lull (at home and at work) into disarray, at one stage I also wasn't sure I would be up to travelling down to Devon and a Little People laden environment for NYE itself. In the end it's just as well I went, as others had bailed, so we were a smaller than expected house party in an idyllic stone millhouse right on the water's edge at Lee Bay. I was still not full of beans for most of the weekend but no-one else really seemed to be either and we mostly huddled in front of the fire as the rain sheeted down outside, enjoying having no greater demands on us than keeping the kids entertained with the occasional game of Banangrams and failing to do justice to the enormous quantity of cheese and pate that we were presented with. We did manage a walk one day, up and down along the stunningly craggy coast, to the lighthouse which looked out to Lundy Island, and it was a wonderfully pleasant way to spend at least the start of 2016 in an oasis of peace, before the return to London and the rush of life started up again.
The first week of the year was largely spent celebrating N's 40th: we made a return to Pub Quiz on the Tuesday, went out for a meal* with our respective Other Other Halves on Wednesday, the birthday itself; I had Book Group on Thursday (where my choice, How To Be Both
, was largely well-received) followed by another meal as one of our member's imminent fatherhood is putting us on hold for the time being. I was at the shelter Friday evening then on Saturday we marked N's birthday in all the most appropriate ways: cake in the afternoon, cocktails at Scenario
, a games-themed bar in Dalston, then brunch for a small kernel of survivors the next morning.
I had to be back home for Sunday afternoon as our guest for the month, S (an old friend who now lives in Canada), was arriving: she's over here to study for a few weeks and staying with us, so yesterday and tonight we've been hanging out with her, readjusting to living with a third person, temporarily at least.
*N had settled on a vegetarian restaurant to go to (making it all the remarkable that M agreed to come at all) only when we approached it we could see there seemed to be some big rally going on inside, with dozens of people standing around. A sign on the door informed us it that it was closed in order to launch: "2016: Year of the Pulse." We went to a Turkish place and ate lots of meat instead.
|Tuesday, December 15th, 2015|
|when I get stoned and sing all night long it's just a family tradition
Wow, two weeks into December already: I think I've seen all my bands for the year now, but I did sneak in a few this month. The Wednesday before last, I headed down to the O2 for a gig in their bowling alley (the Brooklyn Bowl), rather surreally, which started with the rather over-groomed and soulful Secret Company
, I was there for Broken Hands
, who continue to impress, then The Family Rain
were headlining: a bit too straightforwardly rock for me but decent at it. I was rather closer to home the next night, at The Black Heart in Camden: two enthusiastic young supports set the tone, Lighthouse
and a very energetic set from The Bulletproof Bomb
, they were followed by the equally energetic Sisteray
, Walthamstow boys fresh from making their views about the Syria vote known to Stella Creasey.
We've never gone in for big Christmas festivities at work but on Friday we followed our staff meeting with some tree decorating and a few drinks int he pub, which I had to scooch off from early to have dinner up in Dalston with T&A, which was very nice although festive drink-mixing made me pretty sleepy. I stayed over at N's but he had to head off pretty early on Saturday and I went back to spend a lazy day at home. We met up again in Greenwich the next day to go round the Pepys exhibition at the National Maritime Museum, it didn't really draw all that much out of the diaries that was a surprise (Great Fire, Restoration Theatre etc.) but some of the context of his life (Royal Society, Tangier colony) was pretty interesting and a lot of the quotes did make him sound very much like an erstwhile Boris, bumbling around the great institutions of the land without much of an idea of what they were all about. I headed from there to Chelsea to do some bucket-shaking for work, while carols were sung at Christmas shoppers, then was back at home for the rest of the day.
Last week I went to catch Cracker
on one of their rare visits to the UK, thanks as ever to Professor W. I've scraped the name of the execrable rawwwk support act from my mind but luckily Cracker were fantastic. I love going to see all my laddish indie with its thrashy guitars but it is nice to see instruments being played really well every once in a while. Alternative country rock is not something that I would ever seek out, but it does make me wonder if I am seriously missing out or if it is just because they are so strongly associated with my late teens that I loved it so much.
Whilst I tend to rotate the evening I work at the Shelters, so all the venues and volunteers get to see me, I went back for my second Tuesday in a row, not a terrible thing as they definitely put on the best spread that night, and I even made it to FNB for the first time in an age on Wednesday, which seems to be thriving with the new generation of volunteers. N came over on Friday, we watched the Nick Cave film from a couple of years ago, which was pretty good but had some moments of horrible irony in the light of subsequent events.
On Friday I ventured out to a club called Rumpus for the first time, in honour of cream_horn
's birthday. It was billed as Santas v. Pandas and most people had made some kind of fancy dress effort and the night made good use of the labyrinthine Electrowerkz, with three rooms of bands and DJs, some stalls, a courtyard and various random entertainments. It was a fun night with enough distractions and friendly crowds, a bit Planet Angel-y albeit with more live music and a slightly younger crowd. Most of the music that we saw had a strong 'gypsy'/Balkan influence with energetic sets from Buffo's Wake
and special gallic guests Jabul Gorba
. It's an all-night affair but I flagged about 5am and headed home, not the worst thing in the world as I had agreed to be in Petersfield by midday to meet up with K and our usual crowd for a Christmas celebration: it was pretty restrained, mostly eating and containing three excitable small children, but lovely to get together.
I hung around until after lunch on Sunday then went home for a couple of hours before going back out to the Shelters in the evening. I's feeling okay yesterday but by the evening it had all caught up with me and I crashed out early: luckily I'm in tonight as well.
|Sunday, November 29th, 2015|
|All my friends are getting married, mortgages and pension plans
I wasn't on top form this week: Monday and Thursday were particularly hectic in the drop-in, I didn't manage to take my morning off and I came down with a cold, leaving me pretty worn down. I think Tuesday evening was probably the start of it, when I headed out to the Arrows of Love
gig at The Lexington. They were preceded by Shark Dentist
, who started off as though they were going to be pretty out there but formed into something a bit more identifiable as they went on, and WAW
whose best song was sung by a different guy to the rest of the set. Arrows of Love
are certainly never boring and after an indeterminate length of chaotic guitar fuzz, which may or may not have included their actual songs, some unexpected instrument smashing brought things to an end. I want to love them, especially having met them a little and found them lovely, but there wasn't quite enough energy in the room to make it fly.
I stayed for the shelter on Wednesday, then was already wiped up by the time I met up with M&E for the Frank Turner
show at Alexandra Palace on Thursday. Will Varley
was first on, who alternated whimsical comic songs which didn't quite work for me with some really good straightforward singer-songwriter stuff, then came Skinny Lister
, who I guess were somewhere on the folk-punk spectrum and had plenty of energy. I perked up enough to enjoy the gig, Mr. Turner roaring through plenty of tunes old and new, although the interminable journey home didn't do me any favours.
I joined N over in De Beauvoir Town for an art exhibition linked in to the Hackney Queer Film Fest, which had some good pieces (some photos chronicling trans experience in particular) but mostly I wanted a bit more context to the endless representations of genitalia. N came back to mine for ease of heading up to Finchley the next morning for brunch with his cousins which was enjoyably rowdy, then I trekked down to Mottingham in SE London to say my goodbyes to Mogwai, the only cat I have every lived with, who is sadly not long for this world. She was certainly a shadow of her former elegance but responsive and seemed comfortable. In spite of the sad occasion, it was lovely to catch up with ex-housemate D and family before I headed home for a lazy evening in.
Today's also been pretty relaxed: I headed up to Didcot to see azrayus
for the first time since his wedding and we had a nice afternoon board-gaming: Arctic Scavengers and Dead of Winter, in deference to the cold wind howling outside, as well as Machi Koro.