I had been caught unaware by our work Sleep Out this year: it was the first day of October and I'm used to it being the following weekend, as I usually have to rush off down to Southampton the next morning for R's birthday, so I had already made plans and only went along to eat the pre-match pizza and mill about while setting up was happening before heading over to Printworks near Canada Water. I was going to Soundcrash, a night I'm going to tentatively describe as techno, with ex-employee S: it's an amazing building with massive, hangar-like in-between spaces then a really long and thin main performance area; it was also interesting to see a club opening at 8pm and only going on until about 3, the 'headliner' (Jon Hopkins) done by 1am. There was much dancing (or shuffling when we were in the middle of the crowd), although the vagaries of the night buses still got me home pretty late.
Cez was in London, which was a good enough pretext for all of N's friends to gather for brunch at a nice Venezuelan place in Bethnal Green, which was lovely, and they provided good tips for some last minute costume-shopping for (clubbing being like buses, it seems) my Rumpus outfit for that evening. It was Robots v. Rowboats and my Breton stripes were far-from-unique, but definitely did the job. I met up with C, who was there with a nice group of friends (one of whom had also been at Printworks the previous night!), and we wandered between floors and areas, dancing away to bands and DJs, and admiring the costumes. Both nights I really noticed how visibly there were gay partners expressing affection in mainstream clubs and how ridiculous it is that that still surprises me. I was most keen to see Buffo's Wake's Skeleton Crew, which seemed (interestingly) to be the band without their singer, but lots of their Balkansy music works just as well instrumentally. They weren't on until 3am so I clung on as the others drifted off, then grabbed a kebab and a bus home when they were done.
For obvious reasons, I'd kept my Sunday empty and spent the day chilling out, not making it further than Sainsbury's. I was in Monday too, then Tuesday headed to Lafayette (my first visit), which is part of the swanky new Kings Cross development and seems to be going for a Western feel, to see Red Rum Club. They were supported by fellow-Scousers The Hushtones, who were more gender-mixed than most bands and pleasant and melodic. Red Rum Club themselves never disappoint for entertainment and I'm sure in another era would be playing much bigger venues. I was out again on Wednesday, to the Islington Academy: the support were Make Friends, Bristol lads with jangly guitars, and Novacub, who I'd seen a bit of at Soma Fest, but headlining were King No-One, who provided a typically messianic performance.
On Thursday N & i ate out together (which we'd rather stopped doing since I moved in), albeit just local to Seven Sisters, then it was another gig on Friday: all those rearranged or delayed tours all packing themselves into the same window of opportunity. Down at Omeara, the support were Youth Sector, who continue to be fun, despite the ridiculous moustaches, but I was there for The Ninth Wave, who were sublime.
On Saturday, N & I headed out Kew Gardens and spent a big chunk of the day wandering about several of the bits we missed out when we were there a few years ago, plus revisiting some highlights. I headed home for Family Zoomtime (recently Adam's completed both an ultramarathon and a (possibly even-more-gruelling) public enquiry into whether a wind farm will interfere with an airport) then headed back out again to Hackney for Alex's birthday, with a bunch of familiar faces (plus a borrowed dog), which was very convivial.
The NFL came to Tottenham on Sunday, which I mostly tried to hide from: I was trying to get myself to do some work, so didn't need too much persuading to head up to Rickmansworth to join Josh in some afternoon drinking, alongside various friends and family members, before we headed back into London, with his uncle S, to see Tom Clarke at The Garage. Support came in the form of solo-acoustic-guy Joe Doltman, who wisely and widely sprinkled 90s indie covers amongst his own songs. Tom Clarke had some musicians with him, but not quite a band, and played We Live and Die in These Towns all the way through, which hit the spot. We scrambled up the Holloway Road and fell into a pub called the Lamb afterwards, which seemed really cool: there was some low-key folk music going on, I don't think we quite matched the ambiance but weren't made to feel unwelcome.
Cez was in London, which was a good enough pretext for all of N's friends to gather for brunch at a nice Venezuelan place in Bethnal Green, which was lovely, and they provided good tips for some last minute costume-shopping for (clubbing being like buses, it seems) my Rumpus outfit for that evening. It was Robots v. Rowboats and my Breton stripes were far-from-unique, but definitely did the job. I met up with C, who was there with a nice group of friends (one of whom had also been at Printworks the previous night!), and we wandered between floors and areas, dancing away to bands and DJs, and admiring the costumes. Both nights I really noticed how visibly there were gay partners expressing affection in mainstream clubs and how ridiculous it is that that still surprises me. I was most keen to see Buffo's Wake's Skeleton Crew, which seemed (interestingly) to be the band without their singer, but lots of their Balkansy music works just as well instrumentally. They weren't on until 3am so I clung on as the others drifted off, then grabbed a kebab and a bus home when they were done.
For obvious reasons, I'd kept my Sunday empty and spent the day chilling out, not making it further than Sainsbury's. I was in Monday too, then Tuesday headed to Lafayette (my first visit), which is part of the swanky new Kings Cross development and seems to be going for a Western feel, to see Red Rum Club. They were supported by fellow-Scousers The Hushtones, who were more gender-mixed than most bands and pleasant and melodic. Red Rum Club themselves never disappoint for entertainment and I'm sure in another era would be playing much bigger venues. I was out again on Wednesday, to the Islington Academy: the support were Make Friends, Bristol lads with jangly guitars, and Novacub, who I'd seen a bit of at Soma Fest, but headlining were King No-One, who provided a typically messianic performance.
On Thursday N & i ate out together (which we'd rather stopped doing since I moved in), albeit just local to Seven Sisters, then it was another gig on Friday: all those rearranged or delayed tours all packing themselves into the same window of opportunity. Down at Omeara, the support were Youth Sector, who continue to be fun, despite the ridiculous moustaches, but I was there for The Ninth Wave, who were sublime.
On Saturday, N & I headed out Kew Gardens and spent a big chunk of the day wandering about several of the bits we missed out when we were there a few years ago, plus revisiting some highlights. I headed home for Family Zoomtime (recently Adam's completed both an ultramarathon and a (possibly even-more-gruelling) public enquiry into whether a wind farm will interfere with an airport) then headed back out again to Hackney for Alex's birthday, with a bunch of familiar faces (plus a borrowed dog), which was very convivial.
The NFL came to Tottenham on Sunday, which I mostly tried to hide from: I was trying to get myself to do some work, so didn't need too much persuading to head up to Rickmansworth to join Josh in some afternoon drinking, alongside various friends and family members, before we headed back into London, with his uncle S, to see Tom Clarke at The Garage. Support came in the form of solo-acoustic-guy Joe Doltman, who wisely and widely sprinkled 90s indie covers amongst his own songs. Tom Clarke had some musicians with him, but not quite a band, and played We Live and Die in These Towns all the way through, which hit the spot. We scrambled up the Holloway Road and fell into a pub called the Lamb afterwards, which seemed really cool: there was some low-key folk music going on, I don't think we quite matched the ambiance but weren't made to feel unwelcome.