Hey All
Hey,
It's nearly 11 AM on Tuesday, and I haven't been to bed yet.
Despite my declaration that I was going to stay awake until at least 2100 on Sunday, I decided it would be healthier to get some sleep, and as such woke up at about half eight in the evening.
Big mistake. Nowhere to go, nothing to do and for some reasonthe only thing on TV that came close to watchable was a rerun of American Pie, which for reasons unknown struck me as acutely painful viewing. And not for the gross-out aspect, either. It was just leaning on some nerve inside me like nails on a blackboard.
Whoo! Mixed metaphor.
So I took a walk down the Leytonstone High Road instead, and then sat up all night reading, going to bed sometime after 8 AM.
I slept all of Monday.
Of course, by the time I woke up I was running late for the Bezerker show that I had decided to review for Fasterlouder, so I quickly showered and jumped on the Tube to Highbury (lucky I checked my ticket before I left, I thought the show was going to be at The Underworld in Camden).
The Bezerker show will be discussed in more detail when I write the review over the next two days.
But while I'm here, a few things that won't make it to the review: my friend Richie was at the Berzerker show, there to review it for Terrorizer. The cloak room girl expressed surprise to see me at a metal gig, because she thought I was just a Goth/Industrial dude. I took a bang to the right eye socket when a knucklehead stage-dived onto the bloke in front of me, but no permanent damage was done. And I observed that there were lots of pretty girls in the crowd for a metal show, at which point Richie mentioned that it was an all-ages show, so I should probably check ID.
After the show Richie and I took the tube to Soho and set up camp in the Crobar, the traditional post-gig watering hole of musicians and music journalists. Being a Monday Night, we actually got a table. Somewhere along the way I got talking to a relocated Glaswegian and his girlfriend, who were both sitting near Richie and I.
Here's the funny thing: The Glaswegian was into Depeche Mode, Morrissey and other indie rock kind of things (despite this, he never came across as an Indie Rock Wiener). While his girlfriend could wax lyrical about how Joey Jordinson filling in for Lars Ulrich when Metallica Download two years ago highlighted how much of an overrated drummer Lars is.
IE The girl was into metal, the guy was not. An incongruous situation, though theres seems to be a lot of that going around.
Some mad swedish girls were in the Crobar as well. I usually like Swedish girls, because they are usually tall, fair and slender. And more often than not complete ice-maidens.
These girls were short, dark and extremely ebullient. Not really my type.
There was also a couple of stage tech folk who had just come from a Morrissey show, where they had been rigging and stuff. One of them was in the process of recruiting people for touring crews in June. Pretty big tours. The short version is that even though I doubt much will come of it, I gave him my contact details and told him to give me a call if they needed someone with touring experience and a UK Passport who was willing to work hard.
If I do get onto a tour it will be great, but I'm not holding my breath.
After the Crobar closed Richie and I managed to find a restaurant in Chinatown that was still serving food at that horrifically late hour. I had a Sweet and Sour Pork (no rice) that was actually pretty damn good. Though I was out of practise with my chopsticks.
After that Richie caught his bus, and I wandered back to Oxford Street.
I didn't feel like catching the N8, so I decided to wander to Hyde Park and wait until the tubes were running. As it was, the tubes were running before I was done wandering, but I had a good wander and a good think.
I saw lots of nice old buildings in Mayfair again, and had a nice wander through Hyde Park as the sun came up over London. I can't really remember what I was thinking about, but I did feel strangely reminiscent of the exploratory late night walks I would take through St Lucia. The same feeling of slightly lonely mixed in with enjoying the stillness and space.
The city was starting to wake up, so I took the tube back to Leytonstone.
One thing I just remembered (a non-sequitir, but I don't feel like editing around it): I did spot some new Job Openings in the windows at Borders, so I am going to drop in my resume again. And write a lyrical coversheet about why I would be good for the position.
That's on the to-do list for the next few days.
In the meantime, I have to go home and write that review.
Over and out.
J
It's nearly 11 AM on Tuesday, and I haven't been to bed yet.
Despite my declaration that I was going to stay awake until at least 2100 on Sunday, I decided it would be healthier to get some sleep, and as such woke up at about half eight in the evening.
Big mistake. Nowhere to go, nothing to do and for some reasonthe only thing on TV that came close to watchable was a rerun of American Pie, which for reasons unknown struck me as acutely painful viewing. And not for the gross-out aspect, either. It was just leaning on some nerve inside me like nails on a blackboard.
Whoo! Mixed metaphor.
So I took a walk down the Leytonstone High Road instead, and then sat up all night reading, going to bed sometime after 8 AM.
I slept all of Monday.
Of course, by the time I woke up I was running late for the Bezerker show that I had decided to review for Fasterlouder, so I quickly showered and jumped on the Tube to Highbury (lucky I checked my ticket before I left, I thought the show was going to be at The Underworld in Camden).
The Bezerker show will be discussed in more detail when I write the review over the next two days.
But while I'm here, a few things that won't make it to the review: my friend Richie was at the Berzerker show, there to review it for Terrorizer. The cloak room girl expressed surprise to see me at a metal gig, because she thought I was just a Goth/Industrial dude. I took a bang to the right eye socket when a knucklehead stage-dived onto the bloke in front of me, but no permanent damage was done. And I observed that there were lots of pretty girls in the crowd for a metal show, at which point Richie mentioned that it was an all-ages show, so I should probably check ID.
After the show Richie and I took the tube to Soho and set up camp in the Crobar, the traditional post-gig watering hole of musicians and music journalists. Being a Monday Night, we actually got a table. Somewhere along the way I got talking to a relocated Glaswegian and his girlfriend, who were both sitting near Richie and I.
Here's the funny thing: The Glaswegian was into Depeche Mode, Morrissey and other indie rock kind of things (despite this, he never came across as an Indie Rock Wiener). While his girlfriend could wax lyrical about how Joey Jordinson filling in for Lars Ulrich when Metallica Download two years ago highlighted how much of an overrated drummer Lars is.
IE The girl was into metal, the guy was not. An incongruous situation, though theres seems to be a lot of that going around.
Some mad swedish girls were in the Crobar as well. I usually like Swedish girls, because they are usually tall, fair and slender. And more often than not complete ice-maidens.
These girls were short, dark and extremely ebullient. Not really my type.
There was also a couple of stage tech folk who had just come from a Morrissey show, where they had been rigging and stuff. One of them was in the process of recruiting people for touring crews in June. Pretty big tours. The short version is that even though I doubt much will come of it, I gave him my contact details and told him to give me a call if they needed someone with touring experience and a UK Passport who was willing to work hard.
If I do get onto a tour it will be great, but I'm not holding my breath.
After the Crobar closed Richie and I managed to find a restaurant in Chinatown that was still serving food at that horrifically late hour. I had a Sweet and Sour Pork (no rice) that was actually pretty damn good. Though I was out of practise with my chopsticks.
After that Richie caught his bus, and I wandered back to Oxford Street.
I didn't feel like catching the N8, so I decided to wander to Hyde Park and wait until the tubes were running. As it was, the tubes were running before I was done wandering, but I had a good wander and a good think.
I saw lots of nice old buildings in Mayfair again, and had a nice wander through Hyde Park as the sun came up over London. I can't really remember what I was thinking about, but I did feel strangely reminiscent of the exploratory late night walks I would take through St Lucia. The same feeling of slightly lonely mixed in with enjoying the stillness and space.
The city was starting to wake up, so I took the tube back to Leytonstone.
One thing I just remembered (a non-sequitir, but I don't feel like editing around it): I did spot some new Job Openings in the windows at Borders, so I am going to drop in my resume again. And write a lyrical coversheet about why I would be good for the position.
That's on the to-do list for the next few days.
In the meantime, I have to go home and write that review.
Over and out.
J
posted by the.exile at 9:56 am
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