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satyricaI'm back to covering the Chelsea drop-in regularly on Mondays, then had D&D online in the evening. On Tuesday I was working from home, cooked in the evening, then headed over to The Dome (by bus and then a walk, as this week's on-off Tube Strikes had kicked in) for a gig. I got there during Maiden Races, a 5-piece who were woozy and enveloping. Next up was a band called Matt-Felix, a 5-piece who were slick and MORish but perfectly pleasant. I was there for Balancing Act, another five-piece, who I was seeing live for the first time: I had become aware of them as David, who had been the guitarist for Blackwaters, was a member [playing bass, it turned out, which I hadn't realised until I saw them live]- I'd initially been a bit ambivalent to their musically but two songs they had released more recently had kept suckering me in whenever they came on the playlist, so I decided to go along; at some points they seemed quite smug and safe but they'd won me over by the end.
I took a long way round to the South Kensington drop-in on Wednesday morning to avoid the strike, which was actually a very pleasant journey, given it involved walking down from Paddington, across a sun-dappled Hyde Park, although I made an idiot of myself when I got there by calling their worker on duty by her colleague's name, despite knowing them both very well. The tubes were back on by the afternoon and I headed home then back down to the hated Lower Third for a gig: support came from Hunny Buzz, a female-fronted indie-rock outfit who were pretty good; I was there for headliner Tom A. Smith, who cemented his more dancey, more sexy style to an older, vocal crowd. I was able to get the tube to the South Kensington drop-in on Thursday but this time the strike had kicked in for the afternoon so, rather than go home, I very slowly progressed across London: a bus from Fulham to Soho, a felafel grabbed on Compton St, Lizzy Line fron TCR to Liverpool St, finally had success in my quest for radicchio at [not cheap!] Eataly, then an onward bus to The George Tavern, by which time it was gig o'clock. They were holding a Scandi Night, showcasing bands with Scandiwegian connections of varying plausibility. First up were Luck Machine, who played some punky, some funky tunes; their drummer and guitarist also featured in the next band, Knuckle Draggers, with the drummer this time taking on singing duties and the songs ranged from the offbeat and plinky to the more straight-up punk. Vrengt were actually from Norway and singing in Norwegian, a five-piece who were much more bouncy, with some crowd invasion and acrobatics thrown in. I had come for Kitchen Lover, headliners although the crowd had thinned out a bit: for me they were definitely another level in terms of live experience, though, and I got another shout out from the singer, whose Scandi-connection is apparently on the grandparental level.
I was WFH again on Friday, then did a Sainsbury's shop afterwards in preparation for my parents coming to visit at the weekend but otherwise just cooked and did a crossword with N in the evening. Naz came around first thing on Saturday to size up all the potential work that we need him to do on the house, then it was mostly cleaning until it was time to head down to Waterloo to meet my parents off the train. They had ended up coinciding with Southampton fans coming up for their FA Cup Semi-Final, so had had quite a boisterous journey but we negotiated the tube and overground fairly successfully and made it back to the house. After showing them around and letting them settle in a bit, we all headed over to the Bruce Castle Museum, where N seemed to end up with a personal tour from one of the volunteers whilst the rest of us looked around; it was a sunny day so nice to just get out into the park as well. We had tea at home and then hung out for a bit before I started cooking in time for Cousin A & E (who my parents hadn't met yet) to come over for dinner, which was all very pleasant.
On Sunday we headed out fairly early on a bus down to Stoke Newington, where we took my parents for a wander around Abney Park Cemetery, for a coffee on Church St, then to The Three Crowns for a Sunday roast, which they insisted on paying for. After that we went along to Clissold Park, terrapin-spotting, and it was another sunny day, before heading back home. It could have been a more peaceful afternoon as our Brazilian neighbours (who have been very quiet the whole time we've been here) were having a party- it wasn't objectively that bad (and didn't go late) but I was conscious of my Mum's curiosity at all the comings-and-goings, much as I was of all of the rubbish strewn across Tottenham's streets everywhere we walked. We had cheese for dinner and all Zoomed together with my brother, after finally figuring out how to get it on the TV.
I took a long way round to the South Kensington drop-in on Wednesday morning to avoid the strike, which was actually a very pleasant journey, given it involved walking down from Paddington, across a sun-dappled Hyde Park, although I made an idiot of myself when I got there by calling their worker on duty by her colleague's name, despite knowing them both very well. The tubes were back on by the afternoon and I headed home then back down to the hated Lower Third for a gig: support came from Hunny Buzz, a female-fronted indie-rock outfit who were pretty good; I was there for headliner Tom A. Smith, who cemented his more dancey, more sexy style to an older, vocal crowd. I was able to get the tube to the South Kensington drop-in on Thursday but this time the strike had kicked in for the afternoon so, rather than go home, I very slowly progressed across London: a bus from Fulham to Soho, a felafel grabbed on Compton St, Lizzy Line fron TCR to Liverpool St, finally had success in my quest for radicchio at [not cheap!] Eataly, then an onward bus to The George Tavern, by which time it was gig o'clock. They were holding a Scandi Night, showcasing bands with Scandiwegian connections of varying plausibility. First up were Luck Machine, who played some punky, some funky tunes; their drummer and guitarist also featured in the next band, Knuckle Draggers, with the drummer this time taking on singing duties and the songs ranged from the offbeat and plinky to the more straight-up punk. Vrengt were actually from Norway and singing in Norwegian, a five-piece who were much more bouncy, with some crowd invasion and acrobatics thrown in. I had come for Kitchen Lover, headliners although the crowd had thinned out a bit: for me they were definitely another level in terms of live experience, though, and I got another shout out from the singer, whose Scandi-connection is apparently on the grandparental level.
I was WFH again on Friday, then did a Sainsbury's shop afterwards in preparation for my parents coming to visit at the weekend but otherwise just cooked and did a crossword with N in the evening. Naz came around first thing on Saturday to size up all the potential work that we need him to do on the house, then it was mostly cleaning until it was time to head down to Waterloo to meet my parents off the train. They had ended up coinciding with Southampton fans coming up for their FA Cup Semi-Final, so had had quite a boisterous journey but we negotiated the tube and overground fairly successfully and made it back to the house. After showing them around and letting them settle in a bit, we all headed over to the Bruce Castle Museum, where N seemed to end up with a personal tour from one of the volunteers whilst the rest of us looked around; it was a sunny day so nice to just get out into the park as well. We had tea at home and then hung out for a bit before I started cooking in time for Cousin A & E (who my parents hadn't met yet) to come over for dinner, which was all very pleasant.
On Sunday we headed out fairly early on a bus down to Stoke Newington, where we took my parents for a wander around Abney Park Cemetery, for a coffee on Church St, then to The Three Crowns for a Sunday roast, which they insisted on paying for. After that we went along to Clissold Park, terrapin-spotting, and it was another sunny day, before heading back home. It could have been a more peaceful afternoon as our Brazilian neighbours (who have been very quiet the whole time we've been here) were having a party- it wasn't objectively that bad (and didn't go late) but I was conscious of my Mum's curiosity at all the comings-and-goings, much as I was of all of the rubbish strewn across Tottenham's streets everywhere we walked. We had cheese for dinner and all Zoomed together with my brother, after finally figuring out how to get it on the TV.
