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satyricaLong-time no diarise. We left our intrepid hero about to bounce off around the country, about a month ago, but before that I saw Cabbage at the 100 Club: a venue with a rich and renowned history, and yet still a terrible shape to watch a rowdy indie band in. They were supported first by Slow Knife who were intense and on the experimental side, it didn’t really click with me but I applaud the effort; next were The Rhythm Method, who I was seeing for a second time: they are a lyric-driven South London duo/trio and good value. Cabbage enlivened the crowd satisfyingly, despite the awkward space.
I had the Friday off so spent it chugging up to Oxford to help out at The Iris Project’s Festival of Imagined Worlds which celebrated the influence myth has had on modern literature, with a particularly focus on Rowling, Tolkein, C.S. Lewis and Lewis Carroll. I was once again manning the café with D, this time under the guise of the Mad Hatters’ Tea Party, and we were once again proven wrong in our belief that we had more food than the punters could possibly handle; as usual, I didn’t get to see much of the rest of the festival but it seemed to be a roaring success.
On the Saturday I went down to Southampton, dropped in on L and family (good to see his eldest, who was home before starting his 3rd year at uni(!!!)), before heading on down to Brockenhurst where a bunch of us were gathering to celebrate J’s 40th, which involved a meal out in Lymington then a gloriously silly dance game back at theirs. Sunday was a bit Vicar of Dibleyish: I popped round to R’s and helped her put together a roast lunch, then travelled back up to London for a roast dinner at N’s to say goodbye to his housemate D, who was moving to Bristol, which was really nice, especially as several of their ex-housemates had come over for it.
I had one long day at work on Monday, covering a couple of people who were off and going to the shelter, then was off myself on Tuesday, getting the coach up to Manchester to spend a few days hanging out with Lovely Joe: I usually go up at the weekend for his birthday but, knowing he always takes a fortnight off either side, took some time off so I could just go and hang out and hang out is pretty much all we did for 2+ days, which was gloriously indolent and involved re-watching loads of films from the 90s/early 2000s that I’d loved (Head On, Spun, Basketball Diaries, Totally Fucked Up, Drugstore Cowboy, probably more, I’m pretty hazy . . .) from Joe’s amazing DVD collection.
I had, of course, scoped some gigs out for while I was up there, if only to give him a break, but only ended up going out on the Thursday night to Jimmy’s to catch a couple of bands whose London show I had missed at the weekend: first up were Babylon, who didn’t make a big impression, but I was there for Velvet Hands and Himalayas, who both delivered satisfying guitar indie. I got the coach back to London on Friday and was just in time to head out again to the Black Heart in Camden to see Cassels, who I’ve been keen to catch again ever since The Great Escape last May. They had quite a range of supports: a fellow duo called The Love Me Tenders, then Three Months to Kill who were metallers and finally the more punky, female-fronted trio Youth Man. The Cassels themselves seemed to have hung on to both the DIY ethos and emotional rawness that first endeared me to them.
I had the Friday off so spent it chugging up to Oxford to help out at The Iris Project’s Festival of Imagined Worlds which celebrated the influence myth has had on modern literature, with a particularly focus on Rowling, Tolkein, C.S. Lewis and Lewis Carroll. I was once again manning the café with D, this time under the guise of the Mad Hatters’ Tea Party, and we were once again proven wrong in our belief that we had more food than the punters could possibly handle; as usual, I didn’t get to see much of the rest of the festival but it seemed to be a roaring success.
On the Saturday I went down to Southampton, dropped in on L and family (good to see his eldest, who was home before starting his 3rd year at uni(!!!)), before heading on down to Brockenhurst where a bunch of us were gathering to celebrate J’s 40th, which involved a meal out in Lymington then a gloriously silly dance game back at theirs. Sunday was a bit Vicar of Dibleyish: I popped round to R’s and helped her put together a roast lunch, then travelled back up to London for a roast dinner at N’s to say goodbye to his housemate D, who was moving to Bristol, which was really nice, especially as several of their ex-housemates had come over for it.
I had one long day at work on Monday, covering a couple of people who were off and going to the shelter, then was off myself on Tuesday, getting the coach up to Manchester to spend a few days hanging out with Lovely Joe: I usually go up at the weekend for his birthday but, knowing he always takes a fortnight off either side, took some time off so I could just go and hang out and hang out is pretty much all we did for 2+ days, which was gloriously indolent and involved re-watching loads of films from the 90s/early 2000s that I’d loved (Head On, Spun, Basketball Diaries, Totally Fucked Up, Drugstore Cowboy, probably more, I’m pretty hazy . . .) from Joe’s amazing DVD collection.
I had, of course, scoped some gigs out for while I was up there, if only to give him a break, but only ended up going out on the Thursday night to Jimmy’s to catch a couple of bands whose London show I had missed at the weekend: first up were Babylon, who didn’t make a big impression, but I was there for Velvet Hands and Himalayas, who both delivered satisfying guitar indie. I got the coach back to London on Friday and was just in time to head out again to the Black Heart in Camden to see Cassels, who I’ve been keen to catch again ever since The Great Escape last May. They had quite a range of supports: a fellow duo called The Love Me Tenders, then Three Months to Kill who were metallers and finally the more punky, female-fronted trio Youth Man. The Cassels themselves seemed to have hung on to both the DIY ethos and emotional rawness that first endeared me to them.
