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satyricaThe Sunday before last was a now almost unheard of occurrence of M and I spending time together, just the two of us; we ate three meals together, popped into town for the Mantegna and Bellini exhibition at the National Gallery (passably interesting, although there was an entire room of dead Jesuses) and had our first Sunday Roast for months. I spent Monday night round N's then was off to the theatre in Richmond on Tuesday to see a production of Alan Bennett's The Habit of Art, which had Matthew Kelly in it; it imagines a meeting between W.H. Auden and Benjamin Britten via a whole play-within-a-play device and is pretty much the most Alan Bennett thing imaginable, lots about culture and cocks.
On the Wednesday I was down at the 100 Club for a Sisteray gig: they had a slew of supports, I got there for just some of Beach Riot, was enchanted by Strange Cages (psy-rockers with a strong make-up game, at their best when the drummer was really cutting loose) whilst Gaffa Tape Sandy had both a male and female singer taking turns and ebullient tunes reminiscent of Brand New Friend. I thought Sisteray put in a really good set too, although the crowd could have got more into it. Thursday was another gig, over at the Shacklewell Arms: Mantra were neo-grunge right down to the chequered shirt, whilst Sick Joy continue to rock my world.
One of my much-loved caseworkers was leaving on Friday, going back to Ireland after 3 years, whilst another colleague was moving out of his Brixton flat so we decided to combine the two occasions with a work house-party; some former colleagues came and it was a lot of fun, even if I needed a little nap halfway through, before reviving to dance on through the early hours.
Saturday was pretty hectic too: I collected R from Waterloo and pushed her round to her tutorial, after introducing her to Nando's, then popped up to join N on the Brexit march: there were masses of people and in the 90 minutes I was there we only managed to get from Park Lane to Green Park. I had to duck out to push R back to the station then went up to Camden, had some drinks with Josh & friend, met up with J&E and all went to Nambucca for the Gypsy Hotel night. There were some pretty random acts (nil points to comedy Hitler) but music-wise we saw an earnest American bluegrassy dude called Leadfoot, then The Urban Voodoo Machine, who were the night's organisers and clearly on first name terms with most of the crowd: they were fun but there was a lot of pretty self-indulgent filler. We were there for The Great Malarkey, who ended up coming on very late but did not disappoint.
Sunday was more relaxed: N and I were mostly successful in trying to do the Art Line walk from North Greenwich to Stratford, which took in both the cable car over the Thames and in theory a bunch of sculptures, although a wander along the waterside in the unseasonal sun was more of a pleasure than the art; back at home, I had another Sunday Roast as M's Mum and her partner had been over for the weekend.
On the Wednesday I was down at the 100 Club for a Sisteray gig: they had a slew of supports, I got there for just some of Beach Riot, was enchanted by Strange Cages (psy-rockers with a strong make-up game, at their best when the drummer was really cutting loose) whilst Gaffa Tape Sandy had both a male and female singer taking turns and ebullient tunes reminiscent of Brand New Friend. I thought Sisteray put in a really good set too, although the crowd could have got more into it. Thursday was another gig, over at the Shacklewell Arms: Mantra were neo-grunge right down to the chequered shirt, whilst Sick Joy continue to rock my world.
One of my much-loved caseworkers was leaving on Friday, going back to Ireland after 3 years, whilst another colleague was moving out of his Brixton flat so we decided to combine the two occasions with a work house-party; some former colleagues came and it was a lot of fun, even if I needed a little nap halfway through, before reviving to dance on through the early hours.
Saturday was pretty hectic too: I collected R from Waterloo and pushed her round to her tutorial, after introducing her to Nando's, then popped up to join N on the Brexit march: there were masses of people and in the 90 minutes I was there we only managed to get from Park Lane to Green Park. I had to duck out to push R back to the station then went up to Camden, had some drinks with Josh & friend, met up with J&E and all went to Nambucca for the Gypsy Hotel night. There were some pretty random acts (nil points to comedy Hitler) but music-wise we saw an earnest American bluegrassy dude called Leadfoot, then The Urban Voodoo Machine, who were the night's organisers and clearly on first name terms with most of the crowd: they were fun but there was a lot of pretty self-indulgent filler. We were there for The Great Malarkey, who ended up coming on very late but did not disappoint.
Sunday was more relaxed: N and I were mostly successful in trying to do the Art Line walk from North Greenwich to Stratford, which took in both the cable car over the Thames and in theory a bunch of sculptures, although a wander along the waterside in the unseasonal sun was more of a pleasure than the art; back at home, I had another Sunday Roast as M's Mum and her partner had been over for the weekend.
