Secondly:

Read the blog below.

It's from yesterday, but I only just put it up there.

Whirlwind version of events in the past 36 hours:

Uploaded the Impnaz and ETID reviews.

Went to Liam's going away. Met an Australian bloke named Ray. He see in my Diary that I am going to Strength Through Joy the next night, and he tells me that he is taking some Australian friends with him. Neato, see you there.

Left to go home.

Talked to a Russian girl I'd met in the Afternoons with a Goth DJ named Angel.

Buses and stuff home.

Sat up and transcribed half of the interview.

Sleep.

Get up. Run out of Floss. Read Robin Hobb.

Check Email and stuff.

Watch Doctor Who.

Shower >> Dressed >> Tube >> Train >> Strength Through Joy.

Dance like a maniac. Chris and guest DJs are on top form with selections. Even some noisy stuff by Converter (I had expected that would have been too Powernoisy for Chris).

Somewhere along the a tall woman with angular features and white extensions in her hair pull me aside. She's a friend of Ray.

Her: 'Do I know you from Sydney? You look familiar.'

Me: 'You do know me. From Brisbane. Rachel Black.'

Rachel is someone I met on the Goth scene in Brisbane eleven years ago. She was at Art College at the time, and on Graduation she fled Brisbane. I saw her in Sydney a year later, and she was an Art Director. A year after that I was in Sydney, at another club, and she was a the Assistant Art Director of Ralph.

Now she is an Art Director for hire, doing both Editorial and Advertising, working wherever in the world for whoever pays the most money and offers the best deal.

After Strength Through Joy I go on to Slimelight, dance, talk to pals etc.

Rachel invites me to have breakfast with her posse and her fiance.

Breakfast is cool, we swap notes on all the Brisbane people we knew.

Tube home.

Tescos isn't opening til ten. It's nine and I'm asleep on my feet. Can't buy floss. Fuck.

Go home and sleep.

Miss Lost.

Come here and check word lengths on FL articles.

Check Emails.

Tomorrow I'm going to have my fingers crossed constantly. It think it is fifty/fifty that I get the job.

Got to go home and keep writing.

Transcribing is hard work.

Rachel Black got me thinking. Thinking about the difference between someone like me, and someone like her. Like Gus and Elea.

Philosophize later.

Sit down and write now.

Over and out.

Jason.

Yesterdays blog:

First of all, Blogger wasn't uploading blogs yesterday, so here's the blog I wrote (I cut, pasted and emailed it to myself:

Hey All, Today I had lunch with my parents, who have just arrived in the UK, and are soon to head to Madrid.

We ate at a cafe off Regent Street that served okay food but the service move at a tectonic speed. Next we took a bus down to Charing Cross Road where we looked in second hand bookshops and antique shops and stuff. Cool.

I found a copy of The Hinge Factor (which I've been meaning to read for years) for £2. Note: yesterday, while I was riding on trains trying to get to places, I read 70 pages of Feersum Endjinn by Iain M Banks, the book that I've been battling for months.

Today I finished the damn thing. Hooray Fuck!

Anyways, after bookshopping, eating and wandering with Parents, I took the tube home, edited the ETID review and the ImpNaz Review and came down here to send them off. Which I have.

Now I go out again to Liam's going away shindig at the Devonshire Arms. I'm determined not to have a late night, since I have too much work to do this weekend. Over and out. J

Hey All

Hey All,

Today I had lunch with my parents, who have just arrived in the UK, and are soon to head to Madrid. We ate at a cafe off Regent Street that served okay food but the service move at a tectonic speed.

Next we took a bus down to Charing Cross Road where we looked in second hand bookshops and antique shops and stuff.

Cool. I found a copy of The Hinge Factor (which I've been meaning to read for years) for £2.

Note: yesterday, while I was riding on trains trying to get to places, I read 70 pages of Feersum Endjinn by Iain M Banks, the book that I've been battling for months. Today I finished the damn thing. Hooray Fuck!

Anyways, after bookshopping, eating and wandering with Parents, I took the tube home, edited the ETID review and the ImpNaz Review and came down here to send them off. Which I have.

Now I go out again to Liam's going away shindig at the Devonshire Arms.

I'm determined not to have a late night, since I have too much work to do this weekend.

Over and out.

J

Hey All

Hey All,

Today I had lunch with my parents, who have just arrived in the UK, and are soon to head to Madrid. We ate at a cafe off Regent Street that served okay food but the service move at a tectonic speed.

Next we took a bus down to Charing Cross Road where we looked in second hand bookshops and antique shops and stuff.

Cool. I found a copy of The Hinge Factor (which I've been meaning to read for years) for £2.

Note: yesterday, while I was riding on trains trying to get to places, I read 70 pages of Feersum Endjinn by Iain M Banks, the book that I've been battling for months. Today I finished the damn thing. Hooray Fuck!

Anyways, after bookshopping, eating and wandering with Parents, I took the tube home, edited the ETID review and the ImpNaz Review and came down here to send them off. Which I have.

Now I go out again to Liam's going away shindig at the Devonshire Arms.

I'm determined not to have a late night, since I have too much work to do this weekend.

Over and out.

J

Hey All

Hey All,

Today I had lunch with my parents, who have just arrived in the UK, and are soon to head to Madrid. We ate at a cafe off Regent Street that served okay food but the service move at a tectonic speed.

Next we took a bus down to Charing Cross Road where we looked in second hand bookshops and antique shops and stuff.

Cool. I found a copy of The Hinge Factor (which I've been meaning to read for years) for £2.

Note: yesterday, while I was riding on trains trying to get to places, I read 70 pages of Feersum Endjinn by Iain M Banks, the book that I've been battling for months. Today I finished the damn thing. Hooray Fuck!

Anyways, after bookshopping, eating and wandering with Parents, I took the tube home, edited the ETID review and the ImpNaz Review and came down here to send them off. Which I have.

Now I go out again to Liam's going away shindig at the Devonshire Arms.

I'm determined not to have a late night, since I have too much work to do this weekend.

Over and out.

J

Guess What!

It's Raining!

In London!

I'm calling The Times, The Sun and the Evening Standard and telling them to hold the front page.
.
.
.
Actually, there seems to be a bit of a drought on in London, even though it is raining cats and dogs at this very minute. I reckon they just don't know how to manage water in the UK, being so sure that there will be plenty of it.

That's by the by.

Here's my blog:

Impaled Nazarene kicked ass. I suspected they were going to, even though I have heard that backstage that are Assholes and I can personally re-iterate that their album is a nasty nasty piece of work, replete with misogyny, extreme nationalism and all kinds of horrible sentiments. Trust me, possibly the most ideologically sound song on the album is called 'Goat Sodomy'. Learning the lesson from Monday Night, I took the tube straight home and went to bed instead of looking for some kind of after party (I should have gone straight home on Monday Night).

I spent some on the morning bashing out 500 words on that, which I've just printed. I'm going to put it under my pillow tonight with my Every Time I Die review and attack it with a bright red pen tomorrow morning. Then I'll send the ImpNaz review to finnish-metal.com and the ETID to Death Before Dishonour mag to see if they want it.

And I'll also take some time to transcribe the AFI interview. I have told Cec at Fasterlouder that it'll be sent by Monday.

My parents are probably mid-air by now. I might meet them at the airport tomorrow. But of course, my tendency to run late for everything might make me miss them again.

Nevermind:

Today I was awoken by my Landlady calling to ask if there was the paperwork for the loan to get the boiler fixed anywhere. On a whim I decided to check all places it might be, and I found that someone had put said paperwork into the shoebox next to the table where the mail goes. She told me she would be by in the evening to collect it.

Sweet. That means that we are now only a week or two away from a new boiler. Which is fucking good, since the other two are really not big on the cold shower thing, and it takes an act of sheer self-delusion for me to endure it.

Still knowing that the worst thing that will happen to you every day is the cold fucking shower that makes you scream and nearly stops your heart is a good thing, of sorts.

In any case, after two hours of writing, one freezing cold shower and hanging towels up to dry (I meant to hang them up at 0200 in the morning, but I fell asleep), I headed out to collect my AFI tix from the Universal Offices.

When I got to the Universal Offices the pretty and friendly brunette at the front desk was at lunch, and in her place was a surly security guard. Fortunately he called through to the Promotions department, who sent someone down to give me the complementary tickets. Still, it would have been nice to see the Brunette again because a) making friends with and building relationships with the gatekeepers at Record Companies etc is an important tactic in this industry and b) any girl in London that is both pretty and friendly is worth seeing again.

After that I wandered down to the statue of the Duke of York and back up another street, Eventually finding myself on Berwick Street in Soho, where I found the Sister Ray Music Shop.

Cool.

Following Berwick Street took me to Oxford Street, where I went to HMV and then to Borders to buy a Kerrang and 2000 AD. At Borders I met a pretty Finnish Girl (seriously, girls from Finland, Estonia and Latvia are so fucking hot) who had flown to London with her Brother to go to the AFI show at the Ballroom (they had already gone to the show in Berlin last Friday).

I gave them the URL for fasterlouder and told the girl that I would see them at the show tomorrow.

Next - Tube home. I stepped out at Liverpool Street because the carriage was like a pack of sardines, something I try to avoid because it makes for a fat target rather than just being uncomfortable. When I got to Leytonstone I check my mail to find the FL editor calling for interviewers for Mendeen and Coldseed. I volunteered for Mendeed, on the condition that it wasn't going to be done Thursday Night GMT (because I'd be at AFI).

On the way home I ran into my Landlady leaving (she had been by the flat to pick up the bank paperwork) and she filled me in on the Prison Break developments (both of us being mad Prison Break fans).

I'm still excited that I'm getting a new boiler soon.

My favourite part of the shower is when I finally turn the hot water on and for thirty seconds the water is something other than ice cold.

The fact that so much stuff seems to be coming together right now makes me worry a little bit. It makes me want to find ways to bind it all so that the pieces of the puzzle stay together, instead of flying off in all directions like they usually do in my life.

Anways, I've got work to do at home.

Over and out.

J

Post Apoptyma Berzerk

Hey All,

The Apoptyma show was surprisingly good. It was very euro-techno in places, but for some reason it made sense in the live context (live being a flexible word... most of the keyboards were clearly sequences/loops triggered off one of two powerbooks).

At the show saw: Liam, Nick, his AFI obsessed friend Dinah, Electro Rose of Texas, Glen and Davey Havok, who was enjoying the Dark EBM/Whatever sounds. I had a quick chat to him, but I made a spot judgement not to introduce Dinah.

Also present were three old-school Brisbane folk. One of whom is moving to Switzerland at the behest of his employers soon. Same pay, less expensive city (but not by much) plus a $2000 American grant to take German Lessons.

After Apoptyma I talked to a Swede and her American Friend (who also spoke pretty good Swedish), before going with a bunch of friends back to a post-thing in a flat off Newington Park Road.

I possibly should have gone straight home, but I felt that I had earned the night out (like that has ever stopped me before...)

Anyways, it is going to be a busy couple of days for me: writing the ETID review this afternoon, Impaled Nazarene and their Misogynistic Nationalist anthems tonight, writing the review of that tomorrow, finishing the AFI transcription tomorrow, polishing it Thursday and Friday (AFI show Thursday Night) and sending it off either Friday Night or Monday Morning.

And Monday I probably hear from Foyles. Fingers crossed again.

There is probably more fun waiting for me in my diary, or I'll see something else to add to the list from some other source.

But for now that's all I can think of.

I need a shower and a nap.

Over and out.

J

Quick Blog:

Hey,

I'm just about to run out so that I can go to Apoptyma Berzerk and hob nob some.

But while I'm here: the job interview actually went pretty damn well.

I'll give you all a full rundown tomorrow, but short version:

Wore light blue buttondown shirt with a white longsleeve T-shirt underneath and pinstripe trousers with my square-toe shoes.

I got there on time and looking good (despite having to shower and shave with next to no hot water).

I took a look through the art departments of Waterstones and Borders before taking a quick look through the art department at Foyles, then I took the stairs to the fourth floor where personnel was.

Two interviewers: Second Floor Manager and the Art Department Leader (both asian ladies in their 30's).

They both seemed to like me, I seemed to answer the questions well (one of them actually said 'Excellent!'), and the coaching that Nenad had given me on what to say really did help.

As did the random advice from the bloke that I met the other night at the ETID show: Merchandising and Arranging the Stock so that it can be seen.

I even told them the story about how I had gone looking for a specific book and hadn't been able to find it at Waterstones or Borders because it was on the computers but not reshelved in the right place, but I found it at Foyles.

So much to say!

Basically, unless I fucked up in a super subtle way, or they have someone in that can do handsprings and has a PhD in Booksellerology, I reckon I'm in with a chance.

Gotta go.

This week: I've got some shows to go to, and some writing to do.

And I have to transcribe that interview, cut it into shape and then send it off.

Wa-hoo!

Over and out.

J

Once Again...

Hey,

Once more I am blogging with five minutes before this taco stand closes for siesta, and I can't blog 'til manjana (sp? It's not like I speak Spanish).

To answer your questions (I'm sure you're curious) the AFI interview went pretty well, even if it there were a bunch of minor glitches (couldn't get my tape player to work for the first few minutes, playing back it squeeks, making me wonder if the tape was sticking in places, didn't have quite enough questions to get a great flow on etc).

Anyways, I got to talk to Jade and Hunter (Davey and Adam were off in another room with another journalist), I'll probably see Davey at a show that I'm going to on Monday Night and I got some good stuff.

After the interview I was still really nervous (I don't know why, I had done the stressful part), so I thought I'd go to the Dev to see if any of my writer friends were there. On the way I ran into a bunch of crazy, brightly dressed kids from Colchester, who talked me into seeing their friends' band at the Dublin Castle. Who were actually pretty good, in a funky party kind of way. The Bronson Deal or something.

Then to the Dev, where everyone had already gone to Antilight/Slimelight.

So I went to Koko to go to Antilight.

Antilight was cool, even though all the industrial kids weren't there because there wasn't a good industrial DJ (note to the organisers: remember the Cake is only as good as the ingredients!).

Talked to Callum, Callum and I were both entranced by a friend of his wearing a latex dress, talked Andrea the New Yorker etc.

Didn't do much dancing til later.

Somewhere along the way I took the bus to Oxford Street, had a six inch sub and then took the N8 home. The sun was coming up by this time, so again I saw a lot of the stuff I don't see when it is dark and foggy.

Today watched some of Mutiny on the Bounty (Marlon Brando version, damn he was good in it), Nenad gave me more tips about the job interview, washed some clothes, took a call from Australia etc.

I was thinking of seeing the Scare in Camden, but since I have the job interview tomorrow, I decided to stay home, have a relaxed non-smokey room evening and watch the episode of Lost that I missed because Clarissa was in the loungeroom on Tuesday night.

Everyone cross your fingers for me tomorrow (1400 GMT).

Gotta go,

J

Whirlwind!

Hey Everybody,

It all just gets crazier.

I didn't have time to blog this last night because I was running to the EveryTimeIDie show, and I had to pull laundry out of my washer.

Anyways:

I left myself about an hour to get to the Universal offices in St James Square, and even after dawdling through Picadilly I managed to arrive with five minutes to spare. It would have been ten minutes but I took the long way checking the numbers on the buildings.

The pretty girl at the front desk announced me and printed off a pass that I had to wear at all times. Four flights of stair up and I met my contact, who led me to an office where the usual occupant was away. She turned up the stereo, a girl gave me a glass of water and I had my own private preview of the new AFI album.

Which is pretty damn good, even if it is slick as a greased eel.

I even got to hear it twice. And see the video for Miss Murder. Which is actually pretty cool (it was directed by the same bloke that did I'm Not Okay by My Chemical Romance. It has an interesting kind of vibe to it, at one stage a model carries a black rabbit somewhere. Do rabbits come in black?

Anyways, I got one of the Promotions department staff to take a photo of my standing next to the plaque at the front of the building, then I took a walk down to Pall Mall. I think I took a picture of some interesting building with a uniformed armed guard in the front.

I wandered back to Leicester Square, had two slices of pizza (cheap pizza can be found at Leicester Square) and the wandered back to Tottenham Court Road station, to take the tube back to leytonstone (I wouldn't have gone back, but I wanted to dump my bag and pull clothes out of the washer).

Back at Leytonstone I told Nenad about the Job interview on this coming Monday, and he gave me some tips (don't pace, keep answers short and to the point, don't ramble, be comfortable etc). Tomorrow afternoon we are going to run through mock interview etc.

Next it was the tube back to Tottenham Court Road and into the Mean Fiddler for the ETID show.

I was surprised to run into Phil and a couple of the kids from The Scare. I had missed them on Thursday, but I told them that I would go see them on Sunday night, since they were on early, but I would have to leave early.

I had missed at least one of the supports, but the suppport I saw (It Dies Today) were pretty dull. An thirty minute summary of what makes Hardcore/Metalcore less interesting right now: unispired riffing, lacklustre vocals, breakdowns every ten seconds, melodic bits thrown in for no good reason, stiff stage moves etc. Although their guitarist did have a moustache that made him look like he was in Frankie Goes to Hollywood.

In contrast, Every Time I Die were incredible. The power and intensity and presence and I could go on and on. They were that good, even if all the touring etc is obviously starting to take a toll on the boys.

After the show I was supposed to go the Crobar with a couple of the Scare Boys before heading to Koko, but the Crowbar was one-in-one out plus three pounds, and I was feeling pretty tired anyway. Add to which, my new jacket rubs on my neck enough to give it some kind of heatrash (I might throw the jacket in the washing machine, or change the way I wear the collar (I get the feeling it might not be meant to be folded over) or I might unpick the zipper that is in the back of the collar for no apparent reason. Or even put something between the zipper and my neck.

Today I put some savlon creme on my neck and wore my denim jacket instead.

Also: I exchanged SMSs with my landlady to find out what she is doing about getting a new boiler for the flat (Nenad and Cecil are kvetching pretty intensely about it... me, I'm insane so I just take cold showers). She told me that she is hassling the bank to send her the paperwork.

Anyways, I took the late tube home and collapsed into bed.

Today: got up late (it's a Saturday, fuckin' sue me).

Got up, cold shower, Cecil thinks Nenad is stealing his Bananas, I need to iron Jeans. Note from Stratford Library: Fool's Errand has come in and I have three books overdue.

I head out and discover that there is a Model Train Display at a local church, so I pay the pound fifty to get in and have my mind blown by some of the Model Train Scenes created. I also took photos. Expect some online when I get the chance to upload them.

Then it is the tube to Stratford => get the book => extend the lending on the others => go to Dixons in Stratford Mall => buy spare batteries and tapes => tube to Leytonstone and walk to here.

I'm still trying not to freak out that I'm doing an interview tonight.

I hope that I am prepared enough.

I hope I don't talk too much or come off looking like an Amateur (which I am) or a jerkoff (which I hope I am not).

I'm hoping that I get the Tape Recorder Placement right and that I don't accidently leave it on pause.

I'm hoping I don't accidently mention some rumours I've heard about the band (email if you want to know what I mean) and mortally offend them.

Moreover, I hope that I do well enough with this interview that I can do a whole lot more of them.

Anyways, time to go. I have to iron another pair of jeans, make final preparations, get in the right mind frame and jump on the tube.

Wish me luck, though by the time you read this it will probably be over.

Over and out.

J

The plot thickens

This is turning into a very interesting time of my life.

Last night I went to the Luminaire in Kilburn to see The Lilys and meet their manager, who Elea is sharing a house with in Brooklyn. The Lilys were surprisingly good. Their manager Yalan was cool, and she raved about Elea.

After that I was hanging out with them all (I meant to leave earlier, but I missed the last train back) and somewhere along the way we all went back to a house in Hampstead Heath, the residence of someone named Kevin.

Kevin was a tall, pale, softly spoken Irishman with slightly curly blond hair and glasses. He had guitars lying around the living room the way other people leave magazines, some spools of audio tape in a stack of boxes and a mixing desk covered over by something. I was sitting around with members of the band and other managers and agents etc trying not to be intrusive.

At some point I noticed an envelope addressed to the flat with the name 'Kevin Shields' written on it. I nearly had a heart attack.

Kevin Shields of My Bloody Valentine and Primal Scream! I've been a fan of his work since 1992/3, when his warped guitar sounds first came to my attention.

I spent the rest of the time willing myself not to be a gushing fan. Finally when everyone was leaving I told him that I didn't realise whose house I had come back to, and that Loveless was a great fucking record.

He took the compliment well, in a quiet aw shucks kind of way.

I took the N5 Nightbus back to Soho and the N8 back to Leytonstone. I think it was five AM before I got to sleep (I am not night owling so much lately... the summer sunlight is waking me up earlier, which means I am getting to sleep earlier... that and more exercise means I sleep better)

10 Am I was woke up by a phone call.

Background: I emailed Foyles last Friday about a full time bookseller position. I hadn't heard anything back from them since them. Yesterday I noticed that Foyles had put up another notice for Fulltime Booksellers, this time the deadline was 28th of this month. (I had actually gone into Foyles to buy a book).

This left me feeling a little down. Not only had they decided they didn't want to give me a chance, they had decided that no-one in this round passed muster, so they were waiting til someone really good came along.

Screw feeling down, I thought, I'm going to apply again. And again. And again until I get to the next round.

That's something I've learned lately. Nothing good comes easily, you need to persist.

Flashback over, back to the phone ringing at 10 AM.

I wake up and do my best 'Hello, I'm fully awake!' voice (Elea and Gus woke me up at Half Three the other night and thought that I hadn't gone to sleep yet).

The voice on the other end of the line asked me if I was interested in interviewing for the bookseller position at Foyles on Monday or Thursday. I reply positively and cheerfully, asking a moment while I open my diary. Inside I am doing cartwheels.

I chose Monday (the sooner the better, in my opinion).

I'm full of questions: what should I wear, should I get my hair cut, what questions will they ask and how should I reply etc. Should I wander in to Foyles and quietly pick the brains of the girl at the information desk to see if she can give me any pointers?

But I've got an interview! Neato Sweeto!

Just for good measure, I think I'll apply for the Part-Time Cashier job at Borders Oxford Circus as well.

Anyways, I have to end here.

I'm going in to the Universal Offices in London to hear the new AFI album at 3PM, and I have some errands I need to run before then (pull clothes out of the washer, buy food etc).

And tonight I see Every Time I Die at the Mean Fiddler.

But everything is looking very cool.

Over and out.

J

Hey Hey Hey!

Hey all,

Clarissa the Berlin Electro fan left today.

The last I saw of her was this morning, because I wasn't going to be back when she was going to be leaving. I did lend her my keys so that she could get back into the flat.

Nope. Today I took the tube to Old Street to meet the Solicitor Girl that I met the other night for a drink in Hoxton. Which was pretty cool. She seems to be pretty nice, even though she let me do way too much talking. She's read some of the reviews I posted (I told her the url for fasterlouder) and she likes the way that I have imprinted personality onto my writing.

After that I took a look aroung the Hoxton/Shorditch area, eventually finding myself way up Kingsland Road. Hoxton and Shoreditch are the closest I've found to Fortitude Valley in Brisbane, which is to say that Fortitude Valley is like a pale reflection of Hoxton and Shoreditch.

The Bar/Cafe where the SG and I were chilling had art up on the wall, plus no less than four powerbooks open at one stage.

I also took a wander around and found a Circus Academy (I might take a couple of their drop in classes on Acrobatics) and a neato art gallery. Plus lots of sweet Cafes, Bars and so on.

Eventually I tired of wandering, so I took the 242 to Tottenham Court Road. I bought a Kerrang, a Revolver (magazine!) and a 2000AD, then took a walk up to Oxford Circus and bought a ticket to go see Every Time I Die on Friday (I'll see if I can send a review down to somebody).

Finally tube back to here.

Might go see Electro Rose of Texas DJ at Heaven.

Over and out.

J

Picking up momentum:

Hey All,

The AFI interview is looming large on the horizon, and Karen from Universal is also asking if I'm available to do interviews for other bands in the UK.

It all seems to be picking up momentum.

Now for the tricky part: actually pulling it all off. And then turning it into a paying job.

I've made the resolution that I am not missing any more opportunities to move myself closer to where I want to be.

Over and out.

Some hours later:

Sometime I'm going to hit Ikea and get myself a desk so that I can set up a proper workspace in my room in the flat. It is kind of annoying to set up stuff on the (round) living room table, then have to move it all off again.

Bought a copy of Rio Grande Blood by Ministry, because I am in such a Ministry mood.

Music: Ministry
Mood: Ministryish

Over and out (again)

J

Hey All

Hey Everyone,

I wound up staying home last night and getting to bed pretty early.

Today I ironed jeans then went out to pay my rent at Stratford.

I also hit the library, since I received a note in the mail that one of the Robin Hobb books I had requested was being held for me. It was the third in the trilogy but I was going to be in the area, so figured I might as well pick it up.

Two things about the library trip today: firstly, when they brought out Fool's Fate (the book they were holding for me) it was a massive hardcover. It's currently weighing down my bag.

Secondly, there was a really pretty librarian there, with dark hair, shiny eyes and a pale heart shaped face. I was going to say 'You're really pretty, for a Librarian.' But I decided that there were too many ways for that to be taken wrong.

Anyways, I have more books coming in, and more books that need returning, so I'll probably be back at the library soon.

Why is it that London seems to be so desolate in terms of pretty girls for so long, then suddenly interesting girls keep appearing out of nowhere. Is it Spring? Is it just some kind of subtle shift in my brain chemistry that makes me notice them more?

Anyways, bought some magazines at the newsagent at Stratford then tube back here.

Checking my email:

My AFI interview is looking evermore solid, with Karen from Universal sending me a location for the interview to take place (the K West Hotel in Shepher's Bush). I googled the K West, printed a map and directions and cut and pasted the AFI Bio into a Word Document to print.

Just this minute I found an Email from Cora a Morrigan's Pit telling me that I was definitely guestlisted for the Black Dahlia Murder show at the Mean Fiddler, and that if I wanted to also do an interview I needed to get there early and ask for the band at the Merch Table, otherwise a review would do fine.

Nice!

Other news, after missing Parkway Drive on Saturday, I posted a message on an Australian message board saying that if anybody knew of Australian Bands that were about to tour the UK, send me a note.

Today I saw that there was a reply from another FL kid whose band is about to come to the UK to tour with the Zutons, and they were going to be playing some shows in London in mid June. Cool.

Of course, in the meantime I need to find more metal shows to review for the various websites that I've had responses from.

Neato.

Anyways... tonight I will eat the rest of the Pasta I cooked and watch Prison Break.

Listening to: Old Ministry Video Clips on youtube.com

Mood: Happy

Over and out.

J

Hey All

Hey everyone,

Went to the Breakcore party last night in the abandonned pub in Hackney.

It was pretty cool. I was especially impressed by a downtempo dubby laptop dude working under the name Stormfield, who played for something like three hours.

I spent most of the night talking to a solicitor girl on an upstairs couch. Also talked to Scotty (who turned to know a bunch of old friends of mine in Brisbane).

In the morning the trains weren't running, so I found a bus stop and rode it to Stratford.

Just now I checked an Australian message board and discovered that Parkway Drive (metalcore out of Byron Bay) played a show here in London last night at the Garage.

MOTHERFUCKER!

At a point in time when I am determined to upload as many reviews as I can, one of the most popular metalcore bands in Australia (with a following in the UK) do a show and don't bother to promote it at all.

I'm going to catch them at The Peel in Kingston on the 29th, but it won't be the same as seeing them at the Garage.

Didn't anyone tell these guys that you play London at the END of your tour? (actually it is kind of the end of their tour in London... but still PROMOTION you knuckleheads)

Anyway, the solicitor girl seemed pretty nice. I'll drop her a text sometime in the next few days.

Gotta run.

Over and out.

J

Another Review Up!

Hey All,

I just submitted another review to Fasterlouder.com.au

Decided not to go out to the Zyklon show last night, just since I felt like having an earlier night, and I had already spent too long surfing the internet, so by the time I got to the venue Zyklon would have already started.

After I got home I realised that if I had gone, I would have been wearing my longsleeve Emperor shirt to a Zyklon show (two of the members of Zyklon were in Emperor, one of them a founding member). I'm not sure whether in the genteel society of Extreme Metal in London that counts as a faux pas or not.

Anyways, I did what I threatened to do: fried a steak and watched Jonathan Ross. The steak was pretty good (I've discovered that despite what schmancy restaurants tell you, the steak is more tender if it's cooked through rather than purple in the middle). But I had to eat it without any bread, since the loaf that I bought two days ago was already mouldy. Lousy British Bread - full of preservatives and emulsifiers.

Anyways, Clarissa and Nenad went out to some HipHop thing in South London and I stayed home, taking a call from Australia and eventually watching a John Waters movie on BBC1 called Pecker. It had Eddie Furlong playing a strangely naive photographer and Christina Ricci playing a neurotic Baltimore girl. The plot was pretty basic.

But what really made it special was all the John Waters bizarroness interlaced with might be some of his straightest work yet. While some of his movies are pure insanity, this one seemed to be comparatively reined it, with the weirdness providing a pleasant counterpoint rather than overwhelming the whole show.

After that I think I did some reading and went to bed.

Today: Woke up at 11. Not bad for a Saturday. Cold shower, towels in the wash then jump on the tube to go to the Justina Robson/Joe Abercrombie book signing at Forbidden Planet.

I wound up running pretty late, but unlike the Neil Gaiman signing I missed a few months back (I was told there were lines down the block) it was pretty low key, and I got to chat to both Justina and Joe about directions they'd taken in their writing, what prompted those decisions, what they read etc. I actually bought the Joe Abecrombie book, even though I was just there to get the Justina Robson book signed.

Tube back to Leytonstone, checked email, back to flat, pulled towels out of washer, edited the Psycroptic review, saved it to the chip and brought it down here.

[There are soccer hooligans outside the door discussing the Westham v Somebody else game]

As I didn't have any small change, I couldn't get it printed out on paper. So I read through it line by line, fixing the typos, clarifying the copy and cutting off the fat. My challenge to myself was to say all I wanted to say and still make sure that it was under 500 words. When I sent it off, it came in at 485. Neato.

As I have mentioned (I think I mentioned it earlier) I am working on developing a much denser writing style (though blogging here is my writing equivalent of a big bowl of Ice Cream - an indulgent luxury).

I don't know when the next Australian show in London is going to be. I think Architecture in Helsinki are playing somewhere sometime, but I would rather cut off my eyelids with a razor blade and dive into a tube of lemon juice. I do know that the Resin Dogs are playing in London in June.

Looks like I signed on to those other outlets in the nick of time.

Now all I have to do is get writing etc.

And all the other stuff I have to do.

Tonight I head out to another No Fixed Abode breakcore party, this time in Hackney Wick. I don't expect to get mugged in between the venue and the train station, but I'm leaving everything worth stealing at home all the same.

Over and out.

J

Hi De Ho!

Hey All,

I'm blogging quickly after browsing for a long time, because the PC I was browsing on had a broken spacebar. IfIusedthatone,everythingwouldlooklikethis.

Last night, after blogging I went to see my friend Hannah, who is always messaging me to get involved with something or other she is organising. Anways, to cut a long story short she is trying to organise some tours or whatnot, which might benefit from my input. Probably the most useful thing that came out of hanging with her last night was that I found out that if I ever want to get live reviews in print, I definitely need to start writing in a much more compressed manner (ie no more than 500 words).

I finally got home at about 2AM, and had to wake up Nenad because I left my keys in the flat (I had intended to get home while people were awake).

Today: got up and wrote a coverletter for the Foyles position I am applying for. Read the digital/fantasy art mag I had bought. All good. Somehow the amazing artwork I find in the in that magazine has a lifting effect on me (they had a feature on Brom, which was good too).

The fantasy art mag got me thinking about Steampunk, just because there was something kind of Steampunk-ish in there. And I started writing a childrens story about England being attacked be a giant Steam-powered war engine created by a mad scientist, that breaks down as it is about to crush the house of parliament due to subtle sabotage by a street urchin pressed into stoking the giant furnace that boils the steam. I see where it goes.

I talked to Cecil, who was a little miffed that Nenad hadn't told him that there would be an Austrian girl living in our flat for a week. I'm getting tired of being the messenger between those two.

One cold shower later, I spanked my amended CV onto my USB chip and headed down to Haff's Caff to email my CV and the cover letter to Foyles... only to discover that I had left the cover letter on the laptop at home. Run home, crossload, run back.

Anyways, the email got sent. Hoorah! Another job applied for!

Firing up my main Email account, I discovered that a couple of intersting messages:

Firstly: the Live Reviews editor from the German/Dutch metal webzine morrigans-pit.com emailed me back, saying they accepted my offer to send them reviews, and that they might be able to arrange occaisional press-passes to some shows. Like the Black Dahlia Murder show in London mid June. She also wanted to know if I was interested in doing interviews and CD reviews. Naturally I emailed back saying that I was. Sweet!

Next up, was an email from Karen Farrugia from Universal Music, Australia. She was writing to tell me that the AFI Face to Face interview might be back on, if I was available at Half Nine on the 20th of May.

[reservedly] Double Sweet!

Of course, once cancelled, twice shy. But it will be good if the interview goes ahead, even if I have to deal with slightly cranky, tired musicians.

Now I'm going home. And I might go out to another Death Metal show. Or stay home, fry a steak and get an early night. Either or.

Over and out.

J

Hi From The Cheap Seats:

Hey,

I'm blogging from an internet cafe down from Leicester Square tonight. I might be meeting a friend later, so I didn't feel like going all the way to Leytonstone. This cafe isn't bad, but for some reason the administrator has disabled the multiple windows function, an absolute necessity for the way that I surf (ie a million windows open, flipping between the different things as my attention span and loading times dictate).

I've managed to get around it by clicking things in Hotmail that are scripted to open in a new window, and then directing the new window to a new URL.

Last night I saw Psycroptic and Nile play. Psycroptic were good, but they had a lousy mix in a room notorious for awful sound. Still, it's another review for Fasterlouder to do. I started writing the review today. It's still first draft, and I think I left out some stuff that I want to say (I try very hard to maintain a very balanced tone in the reviews (falling on the positive side), and I don't write reviews that I think will come across as overly negative... some might remember me agonizing over whether I should write a review which said that the Ben Lee show I went to was worse than Chinese Water Torture).

As I said, Psycroptic were good (not brilliant, their stage presence needs work) but they were good.

While hobnobbing afterwards I ran into Rachel aka Hekate, the Swiss Break/Noise queen, and introduced her to two of the Psycroptic lads. Strangely, they got along like a house on fire. Score one by Jason for inter-scene relations. Of course, there is a big crossover between the extreme metal and the extreme electronic community here in London, it just seems to be in Australia that the communities are more segregated. Put it down to London being a cultural atom-smasher (of course, how does that explain the Dillinger Escape Plan being so into Aphex Twin and Squarepusher when they are from New Jersey?).

Today I hunkered down to write the Psycroptic Review. Clarissa, Nenad's German friend that is crashing at the flat for a week was around, running out to buy a phone charger before heading back out again.

Around half three I headed to the net caff to check my email then took the tube to Oxford Circus to ask the Apple Shop boffins about my iPod (it froze on the tube last night, worringly 20 minutes after I dropped it). Anyways, I was told that if that happened, I was to hold down the menu and middle button until it turned off, and then reinstall everything. Not leave it until the battery runs flat (which is what I did last night... I didn't think to read the manual, okay?).

Anyways, it seems to be okay right now (I was playing it on the tube, and later while I was chilling in Leicester Square) and it didn't freeze, so I think it will be alright for a while. Accordng to Ebay I can get another one pretty cheaply. I'll try to find the warranty card to see if it is still under warranty (did I get it over a year ago? I can't remember). If I do claim it under warranty, the Appleshop bloke told me not to mention that I dropped it. Grr, dropping it is one of the things that only seems to happen when you change your routine. In any case, I have gotten some pretty extreme mileage out of said iPod, and the damn things are getting cheaper so I would happily pay to replace it.

In fact, I'll start a personal fund in case such a situation arises.

I did promise philosophising, didn't I? I can't think of any right now.

The only philosophising I can think of is that I am becoming worryingly good at taking cold showers. The trick seems to be to start off cold, not start off hold then freak out when the hot water runs out and the water turns arctic. Of course, the fact that summer is now looming large seems to be helping. In a weird way, I like taking cold showers, it makes me feel somehow tougher and reinforces the sense that I can deal with life's vicissitudes (which is funny, because anyone who knows me knows that I am basically an indoor cat/total wuss with no pain threshold). Maybe I was a Spartan in a previous life. Maybe I'll join the Polar Bears sometime.

Still, I do hope that my Landlady sorts out the boiler before the weather gets cold again.

My friend Scotty sent me an email saying that he would probably be going to the No Fixed Abode party this weekend, which I was planning to go to as well.

I might also see what Electro Rose of Texas is up to.

Tonight I polish the review, and tomorrow I send it off.

Gotta go.

Over and out.

J

And the story continues...

Hey All,

I was telling about the stuff I did yesterday (which might not seem so impressive once you've read it, but remember that Monday is not usually a productive day for me).

Anyways, Sunday Night I decided not to go to see Firebird in Hoxton, instead taking a catnap before waking up for two hours at 2 AM. I used the awake time to read the 'Why I write' book I borrowed from Stratford (which actually gets better and better), and make a list of stuff to do the next morning. It is a classic thing of mine that stuff I plan to do on a Monday usually gets sorted by Friday.

The next morning I got up early, went to DWP in Leytonstone to check the status of my claim and then took the tube to Stratford. At Stratford I bought a black pseudo-military jacket from a stall for £20. I am actually pretty lax when it comes to buying clothes (a combination of picky and stingy), but I liked the style of the jacket, and since the big leather jacket is getting a vacation over the summer, I need another black jacket (you can't wear a blue denim jacket with blue jeans in London, you'll be subject to Arrest and Rendition by the International Fashion Police, and next thing you know you'll be tortured in a basement in Milan or Covent Garden).

Walking out of Stratford Shopping Centre, I was flagged down by a Charity Mugger girl, who turned out to be from Melbourne. On hearing that I was currently unemployed (my usual response when confronted with people who want my account details) she told me that their organization is recruiting soon, and the job is both comparatively well paid and better than it looks (set hours, occaisional travel, not commission based etc). Since accosting strangers in the street is actually something that comes disturbingly naturally to me, I might look into it.

Straight on to the Library, where I returned the Robin Hobb novel I had just finished (I know it's not much to crow about, but I do think that finishing a 900 plus page novel in a week has to count for something... even if it's just one of my weird ADD inversions). I also fired up the Catalogue Search PC and put reserves on another three Robin Hobb books. If they all come in at once, I should be able to read all three before they are overdue.

Tube back to Leytonstone. While on the tube I mused that I was doing okay on my list of stuff to do:

Throw towels in the wash. Tick.
Wash Dishes: Tick.
Give Cecil £50 for the water bill. Tick.
Got to DWP. Tick.
Return book and reserve others. Tick.

From the tube I jumped on the 257 up the High Road, jumping off just across the road from the Turkish Supermarket. Just in time to cross the road adhead of the Girl With The Blonde Hair and Blue Velvet Coat (previously the Girl With The Tweed Coat, until last week). Just like every time I see her, I though about trying to strike up a conversation, but I decided not to, instead continuing on my way home (this put her behind me, with both of us going in the same direction; previously we have only passed each other in the street going different ways... this way it was much easier for both of us to avoid eye contact). All the way I could hear her swift clickclickclick of her heels on the pavement, seeming to take three steps to one of mine. I took this as yet another indication that without meaning to I make her nervous. Either that or she just takes really small strides (I take long strides, and always have done, lending me a walk which friends claim to be able to recognise at 100 yards... it makes me a little self-conscious sometimes).

Back at the flat, I surveyed the list, and made an addition:

Hang wet towels out to dry. Tick.
Punked out of talking to Girl In The Blue Velvet Coat again, for fear that she would think I was just another of Leytonstone's crazies. Tick.

Next I grabbed an envelope addressed to my Landlady and delivered it by had to her office at Old Street. I took the opportunity to look at the surrounding area a little. I nearly took a walk over to Hoxton, but decided to take the tube to Soho and look in the Music Software shops before the closed.

Which I did. Next a quick look in Forbidden Planet, where I found out that Avatar isn't yet available on DVD in the UK, and also considered buying a book by an English SF writer named Justina Robson. But I put that purchase on the Back Burner. Tube to Leytonstone, bought margarine and orange juice at Tescos (TICK), checked Email, Blogged and then legged it to the flat in time to watch Prison Break, which I enjoyed, even if I did nod off in the last fifteen minutes (I'll have to make sure I catch the re-run at 11 tonight, after LOST).

Today: Got up early, did Barbells and pushups and skipping. Had a cold shower for the second day running. Damn Boiler.

Tube to Oxford Circus to buy a ticket to Impaled Nazarene (I guess that I'm reviewing the show for those Finns), then a tour of the Music Megastores to try to find a copy of Psycroptic's album so that I could be more familiar with their songs before reviewing them tomorrow night. That took me from Oxford Circus to Tottenham Court Road to Leicester Square, to Picadilly Circus and back to Tottenham Court Road.

At Tottenham Court Road station I got talking to a chap I had seen in Virgin the other day, when he was wearing a Johnny Thunders shirt. Turns out that he plays guitar and sings in a local band called Smiling Strange (http://www.myspace.com/smiling_strange). More Myspacing. Heh.

Long story short: none of the shops had the Psycroptic Album. Turns out that it isn't even distributed here in the UK. That's annoying.

I doubled back through Covent Garden to see if I could buy the book from Forbidden Planet, only to discover it had just closed (the longer hours of sunlight confuse my antipodean sense of shops opening and closing). I walked back to Tot Court Road where I looked in Foyles and made more notes on the traits they want for a bookseller.

Tube to Leytonstone, reading and listening to Wildhearts on the iPod. Something about the Wildhearts makes resisting singing along hard work, even in a crowded tube train.

Tube Leytonstone Station to Flat to here.

And now here is closing.

Clarissa from Berlin comes tomorrow morning. I've message Electro Rose of Texas to recommend me some Electro Nights to pass on to her. Which she has. Along with her phone number. I am beginning to really suspect that she does like me. Or she is just reall friendly in that Texan Way.

Expect some philosophizing tomorrow, when I'm not just travelloguing my movements.

Just before I go:

On my music Reviewing/Writing: to those who wonder - yes, I am aware that even though I was a very talented 17 year old, my writing has suffered from my tendency to still write like a precocious teenager. I'm working on it.

And I ramble when I blog.

Gotta go.

Over and out.

J

Interesting day

Hey all,

Compared with, well, pretty much all of last week, I have had an interesting and almost productive kind of day.

First of all, out of the six or seven editors I contacted last night, two have contacted me back. The first one, the editor of a finnish website I had asked if I could review an Impaled Nazarene show for essentially told me that if I wanted to write a review of the show, he wouldn't stop me. But maybe I could get some photos.

That's a start.

The other email (from a different website) told me that live reviews usually go to Album Reviewers already on staff with the website. So he asked if I'd like to write some album reviews.

I told him that I'd like to do that, I just suggested live reviews because I have runs on the board in that regard.

Another start.

I'll tell more about my day tomorrow.

Over and out.

J

Wah Ha Hey!

Hey all,

I've had an interesting 24 hours.

My Swedish flatmate reappeared after having nearly 20 days abscence, and it turns out that he was in New York City. He could have left a note! If he'd told me that he was going, I would have told him to look out for Elea, as she kicks it large in Spanish Harlem and The Knitting Factory.

I myself took a phone call from Australia (I was sorry to hear that the ailing family dog has just gone to the kennel in the sky), and then I did just what I threatened to do, ie went to bed early on Friday night. Yep, in bed by Midnight (pretty damn early by my standards). I woke up at half seven and watched some cartoons.

While watching said cartoons, I stumbled across one called Legend of the Avatar (but I think its US Title is Avatar: Last of the Windbenders). I liked it for a couple of reasons:

First of all, it was rendered Anime Style, but not pure Japanese anime. At the time I figured it might be Korean (there are subtle differences in style). It turns out that it was actually made in America by Nickelodeon, but I didn't know that til today.

In any case, even though I only saw one episode, I was impressed by the writing, the incredible artwork (the backgrounds were exquisite), the cinematic stylings of photography (actual depth of field effects used!), the nods to Steampunk and the characterisations. Not to mention the soundtrack, which was curiously enough featured moments of ambient martial industrial, of all things.

I don't know that I'll be getting up early every Saturday to watch it (the cartoon content to advertising/station promo/hosts faffing around ratio was pretty damn terrible), but I think that I will have a look through Forbidden Planet to see if the DVDs are out yet.

I also fryed up my steak, knowing I wouldn't have time to fry it in the evening. I mention this because somehow I managed to get the frying just right, and the steak came out deliciously tender.

The rest of the day was pretty quiet, with me wondering if I should go see some friends who would be playing a show in Wimbledon. Not knowing anything about London Geography, by the time I actually made it to Wimbledon (which seem to be deep in the SouthWest of London, with me being in the North East!) their show was over, so I jumped back on the tube with a view to going to Slimelight in Angel.

The chaos caused by all the tube repairs/alterations etc meant that I had to jump on a bus when I could have been tubing, then I had to change a Euston. Walking to Euston Station I found a lodge/club that is built into a marble block sitting on the corner of a park. London can be exquisitely weird.

I finally made it to Slimelight by midnight.

Notable about my night at Slimelight: me dancing in a subdued rather than manic fashion; the upstairs room being mostly noisy-trance rather than noisy-noise; talking to the half-chinese girl I met at the STJ after-party a month-and-a-half ago; and seeing the girl that I met after the Skinny Puppy show last September for the first time since then (after seeing her friend Colin a bunch of times since then).

We had an interesting chat about Electro, synthpop, the history of Detroit Techno, musical software and other topics of mutual interest. It was good seeing her again, because the Skinny Puppy show last year was right about the time that I actually began to find things in London that I wanted to find.

At Half-seven the club closed, and I decided to take the tube back to Leytonstone instead of looking around Camden. So far I've had a quiet morning, eating Smoked Tofu (my latest addiction), browsing the Sunday Times Culture Liftout (the sardonic TV reviewer said some funny but unfair things about Lost, I'd email him to take him to task if the coward would publish his email address), and reading some of the library books I've got out.

I've got a quietly interesting week ahead of me:

Monday: writing job applications, and delivering that envelope to my landlady. The travelling doesn't bother me, because I read on the tube. Seriously, I would ride the tube from end to end reading all the way if I wasn't afraid that it would multiply the chances of me being blown up.

Wednesday: Technical Death/Grind with Psycroptic at the Scala supporting Nile. Since Psycroptic are from Tasmania, it means that I can review them for Fasterlouder.

[a little while later]

I am currently trawling the internet for other webzines that I might be able to contribute to. I am starting with Metal Webzines, just because there are some great metal shows coming, and I'll be able to hit the ground running.

I'm finding the contact details and emailing the editors.

[later still]

Okay, I've sent out a bunch of emails asking the various editors of various webzines if they would like me to review shows for them, with links to my fasterlouder.com.au reviews.

I'll attack the hardcore webzines tomorrow, and maybe even see if I can find some links to print things.

That's enough of that for now.

Over and out.

J

I emerge from my coccoon...

...to find that the AFI interview I was supposed to be doing in a few weeks has fallen through.

I still have the plus one on the door for their show later this month, though. (the Universal Music rep has asked that I write a review of the show, but I don't think that it's covered by my agreement with Monika... although Monika's agreement might have ended when she left... In any case, I'll write the review, and if FL don't want it, I'll shop it to another website/magazine.)

And I've made it clear that I call shotgun on the Phone Interview. Whether the new editor of Fasterlouder gives it to me remains to be seen.

I also finished the Robin Hobb novel I had from the Library. That brings the Liveship Trilogy to a close.

This means three things: first of all, I now have to go back to chugging through Iain M Banks brutally postmodern Feersum Endjinn. It's taken me over a month to get to halfway through.

Secondly, I need to return the third Liveship Trilogy book to the Library. And

Thirdly, once I've finished Feersum Endjinn, maybe I might start the Tawny Man series.

Anyways, I've got things to do.

Not to imply that I'm not Frying Bigger Fish, but if anyone feels like cheering me up over my recent dissapointment, be my guest.

Over and out.

J

A few hours later, just after 9 PM:

I'm feeling a bit better. Not just about the interview, but about pretty much everything.

I took the tube into London and got off at Old Street, trying to remember where my Landlady's office was, since I had an envelope for her, which had come by the flat. I couldn't find it, and none of the newsagents nearby carried Dazed and Confused magazine... I was going to check that to see if I could find the street address for Dazed and Confused, because their offices are up the street from my Landlady's offices.

I wound up looking around Moorgate for a little bit, and I bought a Roland Barthes book for two pounds. Look about, I noticed that the Londoners were claiming the public space again, breaking out books while sitting at the feet of statues, gathering on green squares drinking beer and generally looking uncharacteristically cheerful.

I took a bus to Londonbridge and looked in a discount CD shop. I found a CD by a Texan band called The Sword that I had read about. In addition to an Art Nouveau cover, they featured a song called Lament for the Aurochs. It seemed bizarre that a bunch of Texans would know what an Auroch was (it's a giant woolly bovine mammal, from the pre-christian Celtic past of Britain), and the incongruity impressed me enough that I bought the CD.

Next I took the tube to Oxford Circus where I found a Dazed and Confused in Borders. And all the addresses were for E-mail. I guess those arty hipsters refuse to contemplate the idea of Snail Mail. I did wind up buying A Rough Guide of London, since my wandering in Hamstead last weekend reminded me of how blind I am to so much of London. I should learn more about the place that I am in. (I did resist the temptaion to buy another fat fantasy novel, given that I have more than enough reading to satisfy me for quite a while).

Back in the street the paths were thronging with folk. Maybe it's just because it's Friday Afternoon, maybe it's because it's the end of the first week of May, maybe it is because the long delayed Spring is finally here properly, but the streets did seem livelier. Furthermore, the girls I saw looked healthier than the ones I usually see in London. Maybe the nice weather had drawn a whole lot of folk into London from some mysterious place where people actually get exercise and aren't just sustained by pints of lager and chips.

Ducking off Oxford Street I found Soho Square to be near carpeted with kids sprawled on the lawn.

I looked through Foyles (noting a Bookseller Wanted notice in the window) and crossed the street to Borders, where I ran into a retro dandy that I had seen at Electrowerkz last Friday (he was part of the crew attached to a beautiful blonde girl, whose attentions I had last to a Rasputin lookalike, of all people). He told me about a venue in Kilburn where experimental music shows are held.

I walked to Leicester Square, thinking I might see a movie, but none of the movies I wanted to see were playing for at least an hour, so I chilled in the Park under the fountain. The Square was also filled with pretty folk.

This seems to be that period of the year where people start to shake off the winter greyness and actually start having fun again, in places other than dim smokey corners.

I'm back in Leytonstone again, thinking I'll have a quiet night in. An early night sleep might even out some of this fatigue.

Anyways, over and out.

J

Hey All

Hey Everyone,

I've been having a couple of really low-energy kind of days.

Which I realise is a possible result of me clubbing so hard over the past weekend and sleeping so little (to all concerned, no this was not done with the aid of any of the mountains of cocaine that swamp London... that would explain why I feel so flat right now).

Anyways, good news: my cold seems to be pretty much gone. Now I just have the thing where my metabolism says 'Wow, we did a pretty good job beating that cold, now lets shut down for a while.'

The good news is that I've been using the time to read the Robin Hobb novel that the Library finally found for me about a week ago. Which is impressively good. I don't know how she does it, but she has a talent for weaving disparate threads together to create a brilliant tapestry, all the while writing prose that that flies off the page.

Also: watched the first two episodes of Season Two of Lost last night, and thought they were brilliant, even if they were a little heavy on the padding (Mike misses his son, we get it!).

Not to mention: the AFI cds that I asked my Dad to send over arrived on Monday, which is really helpful to me getting in the frame of mind for the interview. I've also got to hustle to get a ticket to Psycroptic, which I think is next week (I didn't get a ticket last time I was at Stargreen, because the show was listed under Nile, the headliners).

Anyways, this place is about to close. I'm going to leave, buy some more food then plan my moves.

Over and out.

J

Hey All

Hey Everyone,

I had a pretty quiet Bank Holiday Monday, but I had a pretty insane weekend, so I guess it balances out.

I'm trying to pull up the last blog entry I made, since I can't remember where I left off. But I'm in a different net cafe (Haff's is closed for the Bank Holiday) and the PCs are weird. And slow.

[Checks blog in other window]

Oh Yes.

Anyways, I was woken up by Richie messaging me to ask if I was heading to the Dev before Strength Through Joy. this was about 2030, meaning I had slept through my Dr Who alarm again. David Tennant is going to kick my ass.

I dashed off a message to Richie, jumped in the shower, had something to eat and jumped on the tube, making it to STJ by about 2220. It was kinda quiet at that time.

Had a quick chat with Chris D, who was looking pretty schmick in knee high boots over black trousers with black braces and a scarlet button down shirt. Turns out that someone had decided to put on an old-school industrial night at the Purple Turtle in Camden, not realising that the last Saturday of every Month is STJ night. I told him that most likely there would be a repeat of what had happened at Antilight: everyone would come to see what it was like, then at midnight they would take the last tube to their preferred destination. Last week Slimelight, this week STJ.

Sure enough, the crowd did fatten out later on. The Serious clubs in London don't really start until midnight anyway.

Notable about STJ: Richie and a bunch of his Noise Musik pals turned up, which was cool. They included an original member of SPK. DJ Psyche, who I had heard DJing at Antilight when I arrived last week acted as Chris' foil, tag teaming DJ sets with him. And she made some pretty good selections. Definitely better than Laurenz last month (he played a set very heavy on modern EBM, which alienated most of the old-school crowd).

In any case, after STJ closed I took a cab with Richie and his friends to a rather nice flat in Primrose Hill, where I lisetened to people talking about all kinds of crazy stuff. Turns out that John, him that was in SPK, was in several scenes in Dogs In Space, and he also played drums in Max Q, the Michael Hutchence side-project he did with Ollie Olsen. John asked me if, being from Brisbane, I knew anything about a band called Spear of Longinus. I told him what I knew: they were a neo-nazi band obsessed with esoteric national socialism and the only time I had seen them they had sucked harder than a vaculux.

Turns out that they had written to him asking him to produce one of their albums, and he had turned them down. Wise choice.

At about half six a cab turned up to take people back to their respecive houses. I peeled off to find the Chalk Farm Tube station. As it was, the tube wouldn't have been running that early, but just for fun I decided to go exploring anyway. I found myself, first moving through Primrose Hill, then Belsize Park, then the southern end of the Borough of Hampstead. Figuring I should follow the uphill slople, since I am pretty unused to finding any slopes in London, I eventually found myself In the rather nice village at the centre of Hampstead.

I was tempted to take the Hampstead Tube south back to London, but since I had come this far, I figured I would keep wandering. As it was, I found so many beautiful houses my mind was blown. Tiny little lanes with brick houses that defy description. I don't know if they were Edwardian, or Georgian or Victorian or what, but they were incredible.

And every other street had a house on it with a blue plaque on the side: Someone or other lived, worked and died in this house, x-x blah blah blah.

Somewhere along the way I found Hampstead Heath, or at least an edge of it. I would have explored more of it, but I was tired, and it was all wet because it had been raining. I was aware that me, with my scruffy looks and my leather jacket, probably stood out in this well to do area like a sore thumb. So I turned back and tried to find the tube station.

Along the way I passed a man singing a variation on Baa Baa Black Sheep to his daughter in a stroller in a language I didn't recognise. It could have been Hebrew or Estonian just as easily. A french girl gave me directions to the Besize Park Tube station, where I found a horde or American students being herded by a handful of teachers.

It fascinated me that the bleakness and brutal poverty of the Eastern and Southern Boroughs could exist so easily in the same city as the lush beauty of Hampstead and Belsize Park and so on. I saw some tags that some brats had left on a wall and I wished that the kids were there so that I could wring their necks.

Don't get me wrong, when it comes to bleak, grey, urban spaces I believe that graffiti adds some much needed colour. But this was a million miles from that.

I decided to take the bus down to the centre of London, since I figured that there was more that I wanted to see, rather than staring at the walls in the tube. So I did.

Moving south, I discovered that I had doubled back so that I wasn't actually that far from where I started my wandering (I haven't checked my map yet, so maybe I was all in the same vicinity). I didn't jump off at Camden, instead looking out the window at the streets of Camden that I hadn't seen before. Around the corner from the KoKo there is the Camden Library, something I had missed (this fucking computer is running so slow that the letters on the screen don't keep up with my typing meaning that every time I make a mistake I am four words ahead of where it appeared).

I saw buildings I hadn't looked at properly before, as the bus wound a route I was unfamiliar with. I saw stations that I had only seen from the inside. All the while a couple argued behind me about whether they should cancel a cycling trip they had organised because the wife didn't like cycling in the rain (which seemed fair).

I jumped off the bus just south of the river and wandered up to The Strand, which I followed until I hit Trafalgar Square. Then to Oxford Street and then onto the tube back to Leytonstone.

By the time I arrived home I was so exhausted I decided that I was going to go to bed and blow off both the Electrofest at the Astoria and the Stoner Rock show that was going to be happening at The Underworld.

I think I was comatose for about 178 hours after that.

Gotta go.

Over and out.

J