Thursday Night I was sent down to South London to review a show. At three in the afternoon I was messaged by the editor asking me to get there by half seven, sine the PR for the show wanted me to see the opening band.

I was ready to leave by Six PM, but for not being able to find my keys. Since that meant I wouldn't be able to get back in, I had to spend twenty minutes turning over my room until I found them under a pile of magazines on my bed.

Just as I was about to leave, I realised that I couldn't find my gloves. No time for another frenzied search, I had to pull on my big leather jacket and run. In the pocket of my jacket was an uncomfortable bulge.

I hate losing my gloves. I hate losing anything, but gloves in particular I get rather attached to, since good ones are so hard to find.

Almost at the station, I realised that the uncomfortable bulge in my jacket pocket was actually my gloves. I'd shoved them in there on the tube, the day before, and not taken them out again.

I got to the venue a shade before half seven... and discovered that my name wasn't on the list.

Strange encouragement came from noticing that other journalists from other magazines were also stranded outside, tapping on the Blackberries and muttering to themselves.

It turned out that the press officer had forgotten a pile of passes, and was on her way from the office with said passes in hand.

She arrived just in time for me to see the last one and a half songs by the opening band. They weren't bad.

Over and out.

-J

News

Hey all,

Got a message yesterday afternoon asking me if I wanted to interview the old drummer from that Brazillian metal band that I interviewed last year.

I was given the choise of either doing it over the phone next week, or doing it face to face, 1030 today. Since I'm not entirely comfortable with phone interviews, I decided that face to face was the go. Even if it did mean that I had to figure out what I was going to ask in the interview in less than eighteen hours.

So I got researching, I downloaded the tracks off the website that had been provided for me, had a listen, jotted notes and turned in just before midnight, because I was going to have to get up early to make sure that I wasn't late for the interview.

As it turns out, I managed to get to the hotel (just of Marble Arch) ten minutes early, and I finalized my questions while riding on the tube. Getting there early turned out to be a fait accompli, because the previous interviewer had turned up late, pushing the schedule back twenty minutes. Still, it did give me time to chat to the label PR.

The interview itself went really well. I used the new digital recorder that I bought last week, all the questions flowed nicely, the chap was really friendly and was really excited about the record he had just made with his brother (the first time they had recorded together in ten years). He didn't even get flustered when the hotel decided to repeatedly test their fire alarm, mid interview.

Back home and the built in USB plug on the digital recorder made it really easy to transfer the file across to my laptop, and because the is no tape-motor hum, the sound quality is really good.

All in all, I'd say that's pretty good.

Now for the hard part: transcribing and editing it down to 650 words.

Over and out,

-J

Back in London

Like the headline says, once more I am deep into the northern hemisphere.

As far as Day/Night cycles go, I beat my jetlag in some record time, thanks to a combination of good luck regarding departure/arrival times and some Melatonin that my sister left behind. That said, walking around yesterday I did have the occasional sensation of lightheadedness and that sense that the floor was moving underneath my feet. But apart from that I'm fine.

I now have the splint off my left hand, which is good because it was getting rather fetid, a rank odour which actually stuck to my hand until I gave it some fierce scrubbing before going to bed last night. Appartently I'm not supposed to do any heavy lifting with the left hand for another two or three weeks, so I guess the barbells are on hold til then.

Which is annoying, because in my room back in Brisbane I have full length mirrors, and I kept seeing myself and thinking 'What? I'd swear I used to have shoulders!'.

For a variety of reasons I decided that I needed to upgrade to a Digital Voice Recorder from my clunky old-style dictaphone microcassette thing, so yesterday I bought myself an Olympus WS-331, one of two models they had that would work with my Mac Laptop. It's pretty slick, the recording quality is actually really good, no complaints about the interface so far, getting files across is a doddle. Five folders means that I can keep To Do List, Shopping List, Musical Ideas, General Thoughts and Interviews vaguely organised, a mic in means I can use it for Phone Interviews and I managed to haggle the Cashiers on Tottenham Court Road down from £150 to £125.

Plus it's smaller than most mobile phones, so it fits nicely in my pocket. Now all I've got to do is make sure that I don't lose the petit truc.

I bought some more jeans from H&M, and strongly considered buying another jacket. I don't know why, but I never feel like I have enough jackets or shoes. Speaking of which, new boots are on the agenda. I've been checking around, and I need to start making decisions on what style/number of holes etc. Do I go for a pair of cherry eights or black fourteens? etc.

Anyways, tempus fugit. Must get back to the grindstone.

Over and out.

-J