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Veronica Falls @ Scala by Park012
Veronica Falls @ Scala, a photo by Park012 on Flickr.
Three shocking things I learnt about [ profile] zenithed last night at Veronica Falls' gig at the Scala:
  • He's never seen a Friday 13th movie ("They look rubbish so I never bothered")
  • He's never played any JRPG (Final Fantasy, etc)
  • He thinks I'm growing a moustache
We met before the gig at a nearby pub called King's Cross Social Club, with Britpop on the speakers and some decent beer on tap. He didn't believe me when I said Shed Seven have quite a few good songs.

We arrived at the Scala just as Nutella Novella started their support act. I'm still reminded of Smashing Pumpkins when I hear them, but they've definitely moved their sound now to shoegaze waters (with new fringe bangs to match.)

Second support band was terribly-named Male Bonding - four Shoreditch blokes going for a Grunge sound. Terrible.

By the time Veronica Falls took to the stage, I had four pints sitting in my empty stomach. It was over too soon and the new songs didn't leave much of an impression.

We lost Zenithed on the way out and [ profile] wink_martindale then pressured me into eating some Burger King because he'd "only nibbled on celery" that day. Back at home, the bed span whenever I closed my eyes so I had to sit in the living room and watch Poker Games on Channel 5 until I was good enough to sleep.

Woke up this morning to no water in the flat, including the toilet's cistern. Joy.
commonpeople1: (Default)
Further to my post about the gig at Brixton Academy last night, I wanted to throw out to you the question: how long until venues provide more restrooms for women than for men? 

I'm guessing that the Brixton Academy has six toilets, three for men and three for women.  At any given point of the night you'd see long lines into all the girls while the boys had no line ups.  It got to the point where girls went into the boys with their boyfriends/mates, bravely putting up with the urinal banter all around them as they waited in line. (But that got quickly nipped in the bud by security when they realised what was happening.)

Girls kept coming up to me and asking if I knew of a toilet out of the way they could use, that none of the other girls knew about.  So I told them that if they snuck past/tricked security standing by the boys, they'd have little waiting to do inside. This enormously excited them.

It's the same problem in every gig venue, club and what not in this city. It's as if these places are designed by men who don't think at all about the women that might use them.
commonpeople1: (Default)
Dum Dum Girls by Marc Lindsay-Scott
Dum Dum Girls, a photo by Marc Lindsay-Scott on Flickr.
On Thursday night I saw the Dum Dum Girls live at ULU. On Friday night I went to a fetish gathering in Camden.

It had been many years since I'd been to a gig in ULU. The space felt small, more enclosed. The crowd was a mixture of students, middle aged men who collect the NME, the gays and girls dressed like the Pipettes. If the Dum Dum Girls were a British band, their gig would have been somewhere in the EastEnd.

The first band - Novella - consisted of three girls on guitars and bass, plus a tattooed bespectacled boy playing the drums. They were a cross between early Smashing Pumpkins, Veruca Salt and Slowdive. They were taciturn but great.

Oh Brian by Novella.

Glaswegian band Veronica Falls plundered earlier years than Novella: Sarah Records and the Primitives with more contemporary dashes of Camera Obscura. Two boys, two girls - again, a very good band with a tight, energetic sound that is better live than their recently released album. The Dum Dum Girls came out of their dressing room to watch their set and dance around a little. Later, during their own set, they dedicated one of their songs to them.

Bad Feeling by Veronica Falls

The Dum Dum Girls set was very professional and straight forward, but slightly cold. 50s pop rock and roll with Ramones haircuts. This review in the Ladies Toilet is spot on, though I would add that the reason why they didn't set the stage on fire was because they knew, at the back of their minds, that this was the bass player Bambi's last gig: they made the announcement towards the end and brought out champagne and flowers. It was visible that this was a sad thing for the rest of the band. Someone in the audience asked why Bambi was leaving and it sounds like she's going off to start a family.

The only time the crowd really came alive was when they played their cover of the Smith's "There Is A Light That Never Goes Out". All in all though, I really liked the gig; I stood to the side with [ profile] wink_martindale, drinking Carlsbergs and nodding away at the songs - exactly what I wanted to do that night.

Yesterday, after completing my first shift at my new temp job, I met a friend in Camden and attended the Camden Crunch, a "vanilla" fetish night that happens once a month in a pub near the market.

Some people were in fetish gear but the majority looked "normal". I wondered whether they were looking at me and trying to guess what I was into. (I kept following my friend around and agreeing to all her suggestions - maybe they thought I was her new playing?) ;-)

We drank some whisky and chatted to people who were very friendly and jovial. The music was cheesy and the place started filling up fairly quickly. A few people introduced themselves to me out of the blue; if I didn't have my bag and wasn't wearing office clothes I might have been tempted to stay longer.

If you want a chilled out night with a good mixture of perverts people, where you might end up making friends, I recommend you check it out: Camden Crunch.
commonpeople1: (Default)
I think I'm gonna have to give up NaNoWriMo: the good ol' RSI in both hands has returned. I need them hands. I need them for applying to jobs and recruitment agencies.

A few months ago I bought a ticket to see Hurts at the Brixton Academy. I was really looking forward to this gig and even penciled the date into my iCalendar. Except that I put down yesterday instead of Friday, the correct date. I found out my mistake yesterday morning.

In the afternoon, I took the No.8 bus downtown to meet [ profile] loveinsuburbia for a coffee. The bus now detours around St Paul's Cathedral, giving you a privileged view of the Occupy London campsite. It looks realy well organised and put together, with information and university tents, posters with info on all pillars and small groups of people having conversations every few feet. It also has a lot of tourists snapping pictures and the feel of a prominent tourist attraction if it stays there longer than a year. I'm keen to drop by soon and visit.

This is the time of year when everyone in London starts looking pale and horrible, pulling their dark clothes out of the wardrobe. I'm still in denial that it's winter time: you can find me walking around London with my hands in my light summer jacket's pockets, shivering. During my wander with [ profile] loveinsuburbia, we came across the #OLSX crowd again, this time marching down Tottenham Court Road; one of them was my upstairs neighbour, the one who sometimes stands outside Mile End Station handing out socialist flyers. She gave me a searing look because we were walking in the opposite direction.

Came back home and watched the frankly dreadful X Factor then an episode of The Wire season 4. During the night, I dreamt that Anne Wintour walked down a hallway - probably the most bizarre and pointless dream of my life.

I need to find a job soon, before this boredom and lack of money consumes me.
commonpeople1: (Default)
Woods, Sun and Shade 
Woods, Sun and Shade, 2011
I'd never heard of Woods until this past Saturday, when my friends at the End of the Road Festival suggested we go listen to their set mid-afternoon.  We lay down on the grass in the Garden Stage, the sky blue and open above our heads, a few people standing at the front, most asleep on each others laps or chatting to friends.  They came on and the melodies took over.  A very mellow echo of the Mamas and Papas nostalgia, hints of Mercury Rev and Blind Melon, but the brew very much their own.  Something sad in the songs, like folk tunes for whatever is lost.  I would never have guessed they come from Brooklyn (and you shouldn't let that put you off.)  This whole album is perfect, from start to finish - perfect for this dead summer that never was.  It's warm in the sun, cool in the shade; it grows on you like love.

The album opens with Pushing Only; if you like this song, you'll like everything else.

[ profile] dilvsy, I think you'll love this!  It's right up your street.
commonpeople1: (Default)
Hong Kong Panoramic by betta design
Hong Kong Panoramic, a photo by betta design on Flickr.
I discovered all the music I love in the early 90s through this music channel in Hong Kong called Channel V. They had a show in the early evening called Alternative Nation which re-introduced[1] me to Morrissey, Sinead O'Connor, Siouxsie and The Cure as well as helped me discover The Lemonheads, Suede, Cocteau Twins and Blur. I'd record my favourite videos on VHS tapes then play them late at night after smoking joints on my balcony.

Galaxie 500 got played too, but only their video "Blue Thunder". Over and over. I remember liking the photo negative feel of the video and the footage of burning cars. I never tried though to discover the rest of their music; they fell behind with so much other music around me that time. (Juliana *cough* Hatfield *cough*)

Until last week, that is. [ profile] king_prawn  invited me to see Damon and Naomi (2/3 of Galaxie 500) play their material at Café Oto, which is just a bus ride away from me. There were a lot of Japanese fans there, thanks to their current collaboration with Japanese guitarist Michio Kurihara. We sat at a table right by the stage and I got drunk after three pints. King Prawn had said it was unlikely they'd play anything from Galaxie 500 because they were promoting new material, but then the encore came with "Blue Thunder" and King Prawn mouthed "Oh My God" to me.

To be honest, it was better than the original version. The lyrics were brought forward, plus Damon and Naomi are better singers than Dean (the lead in G500). You know one of those days that are filled with stress and you just need to unwind and take your mind somewhere else? It was like that, hands down my fave gig so far this year.

In two weeks, I'm seeing Low play the Barbican, this time with [ profile] wink_martindale  as well as King Prawn. Now that I've (re)discovered Galaxie 500 and I'm listening to them obsessively (thanks alot King Prawn!) I can see how much they influenced Low and other musicians since then.

Damon and Naomi's material is also good and worth checking out. I was surprised and happy to find out that they also have a publishing company, Exact Change, that specialises in re-issues of Surrealist and Dada books that are out of print. How cool is that?! Now you know what to get me for my birthday.

[1] I say re-introduce because this music was around me on Top 40 radio in Brasil. I think brasilians didn't know what the lyrics meant but they liked the melodies, so they pushed singles to the top that didn't fare so well back in the UK. Propaganda's "Duel", for example, was a staple on adult contemporary radios!
commonpeople1: (Jump)
Dum Dum Girls

The Dum Dum Girls have a new album, "He Gets Me High", coming out on 1 March. It include's a cover of "There's a Light that Never Goes Out". Fun!

Also excited to hear that Low have a new album, "C'mon", in April. Fun fun times - time to start saving my pennies for upcoming gigs.

I've been seeing posters and news stories everywhere about James Blake.  Watched some of his videos last night; was reminded of Antony and the Johnson's quieter moments.  I get the feeling the full album is one of those that only gives itself up after many listens, and perfect environmental conditions.

What new music is exciting you?  Think about it and let me know when I return from the garden.

P.S. Here's a great song by the Radio Dept. to download for free.
commonpeople1: (Morrissey)

narcissus 2
Originally uploaded by dicartwright2
[ profile] verybadhorse and three other girls recently visited and did some work in the cafe. They always seemed to be laughing together and helping the hours of work go by easy. It was then with surprise that I saw a black & white photo of them on Pavement's new CD cover: their heads side by side, some smiling, some looking away, one of their cheekbones angular like a Cubist painting. I asked them about it and they had no idea the photo had been taken. Pavement had not asked their permission to use it.

Morrissey's most recent gig was at a small nearby venue. Hardly any lighting, hardly any punters. We stood at the back feeling sorry for him that nobody had shown up. Suddenly he disappeared from the stage and next thing I knew he was standing by my side, whispering a question: which song would I like him to sing next? He was so close I could smell his cologne.

I was lost for words. I needed to choose quick, the few people standing about were getting annoyed with his disappearance. Soon he'd have nobody to sing to. 'Choose the song that means the most to you,' I finally said.

Next day, all the newspapers carried on their front pages a photo of our kiss.
commonpeople1: (Swim Kiss)
Can someone who is as thick as shit, badly-dressed, arrogant and an all-round dick head produce good art? I asked myself this question a few times on Thursday night during the launch party for an art project related to my job. The artist commissioned for the project delivered a great piece which will undoubtedly have an effect on the public space it was foisted on, but in person she's a nightmare to deal with: stupid, annoying, self-absorbed, unrealistic, smug and rude... I often run out of negative adjectives when I try to think of the best way to describe her.

She ruined the night for my colleague, shouting at her when the £300 open bar came to an end and she wasn't yet drunk. The irony is that she arrived too late to join her guests, who drank a lot, had a good time, and praised the work to no end; it was only her who got a meager free glass of wine and had to pay for the rest of the drinks. She shot herself in the foot by complaining out loud about us, right in our face - the people who gave her the grant and might be in control of her destiny the next time she faces a panel after a new commission. Stupid cow. I hope her art career is ruined for good.

I have no doubt that Hercules and Love Affair are unlike her - gods and goddesses of sweet beyond the beautiful music they create. Last night, they filled a small venue underneath London Bridge with people willing to get sweaty for a bit of their power 70s hypnotic disco. Donna Summer's "I Feel Love" with Vogue arms. Big phat beats (I can't believe I just used the word phat) that gave way to dance pop and a constant call for us to get our hands in the air (we did.)

Then a sound problem and most of the people who were there for the wrong reasons (art dealers from the Frieze fair only interested in networking; blokes who don't do much apart from stand around drinking pints) left, creating the space for the rest of us to spread out and really let loose when they returned for 4 stomping diva songs.

This video was recorded in Rome three days ago. Same gig vibe, same version of "Blind", same outfits. You'll get last night's feel:

You Belong

Oct. 15th, 2010 03:17 pm
commonpeople1: (Elvis)
I'm seeing Hercules and Love Affair tonight at a small venue, with some lovely friends.

I can't wait.

commonpeople1: (14 yrs old)

Helium and Eggs
Originally uploaded by olliefern
We went to the Victoria yesterday for a special Catapulte night: two of the label's bands - Helium & Eggs and No Cars - supporting the visit of german band Curlee Wurlee. God, I love that pub. The banana and double chocolate beer, the rockabilly soundtrack before the bands took to the stage, the comfortable hanging out amidst the growing crowd. I'm so glad we have it at our doorstep.

Helium and Eggs were the first ones up and they debuted some pretty good songs. A few reminded me of the American band Girls. Others had the french pop flavour of their earlier stuff. They were then followed by No Cars, a trio of Japanese girls who like to talk dirty to the audience and pretend they are visiting the UK for just one gig. There's a hint of Yoko Ono to their screaming and Shonen Knife to their rocking (heads up [ profile] yaruar !) but it's all forgivable thanks to great experimental pop songs and winning smiles.

The last band, Curlee Wurlee, had a manic 60s pop sound but they weren't helped by a sound mixer who decided to raise their mics and crack our heads with a crumbling wall of sound.

I chatted with the organisers of Hackney's March of the Dead (London's best Halloween party) and they want to do a Dance March this year in Gillette Square. It would involve people learning the routine beforehand through videos up on YouTube and workshops - we were invited to participate in the videos.

More photos here of the gig last night.

I start a new job this week. I'm taking it easy this weekend so that all cold symptoms are out of my body by the time I climb that morning commuter train on Monday.
commonpeople1: (Jump)

Grace Jones
Originally uploaded by virgorama
If a bomb had been dropped on Victoria Park yesterday, it would have wiped out 99.99% of London's lesbians, gays and trannies. Are steroids flamable? Because there was enough there yesterday (covered by fine trimmed hair and tattoos) to set the EastEnd ablaze after the explosion.

I never saw so many gayers in one space. Gaydar and Gaymers banners floated everywhere, drag queens danced and sang on top of a makeshift 1970s New York club (NYC Down Low) while punters with real and fake moustaches lined to get in, Stonewall volunteers paraded with their banners and handed out stickers, and every corner seemed to have a beat going for a happy group of semi-clad hands-in-the-air types. It was all very enjoyable and sunny.

I've got some photos to upload tonight. In the meantime, here's my brief review:

Best Gig
Hercules and Love Affair, hands down. They were fan-tas-tic - like gods from the height of 70s disco coming down to throw a party for us mere mortals. They showcased a lot of new music and it all sounds bri-lli-ant. Possibly better than the first album! I hope they play London again soon, and I hope I can get tickets. Second album is scheduled for a September release, apparently.

Nearly Best Gig
Grace Jones, who changed headware for every song and finished the set by hoola-hooping through a whole track. She was funny, she had legs that went for miles, she wore a thong that showed off her toned butt, and she sounded like Dionne Warwick in the mood for all-night-sex. She closed the festival with a golden key she normally keeps in her 80s dub pop box.

Sadly Missed Gig
Hurts. So very disappointed I missed them! And New Young Pony Club, who we caught towards the end of their set and sounded a-ma-zing and good fun. Must listen to them on Spotify when I get home.

Slightly Disappointing Gig
Cut Copy. Their old material had the crowd jumping in happiness but the three new songs they showcased just didn't do anything for me or most of the crowd. It's a departure from their old material - one of them sounded like Dire Straits - but hopefully it's better on record.

Honourable Mentions
- Amusement park in the middle of festival! Ferris wheel, merry-go-round, slides - all right beside the gig stages. Genius idea.
- Hot lesbians who dirty danced and got everyone in the mood to jump around.
- Gay boys everywhere, in all states of (un)dress. Muscles and fat, smooth and furry, deaf or with just one arm, tall and short, in groups or alone and off their tits. So so so many boys - the lover of people-watching in me was thrilled.
- Lots of great food stalls to choose from. We had Greek wraps and a lot of bottled water.

Dishonourable Mentions
Cigarette smoking. Everywhere. All the time. One after the other. Smoke blown in your face. Over and over. I feel today like I had half a pack of smokes just from all the secondhanding. I had a very dark thought on the way home: if everyone who smoked suddenly dropped dead at the same time, a lot of the world's problems would be solved... the only cranky thought from an otherwise extremely happy, satiated, TIRED mind.
commonpeople1: (Log Lady)
When I left work yesterday, I started entertaining this fantasy of throwing a party at The Victoria pub - the kind of party where a band is on stage while all the attendees arrive dressed up (in tuxedos, as cowboys, 40s gangsters - whatever the theme dictates.) This fantasy then took me back to the night we saw The Severed Limb play The Victoria - a really good show, but poorly attended.

A few blocks later, who was standing at the same bus stop I catch the No. 8 home? The singer from The Severed Limb, dressed up like Johnny Cash and holding a guitar case. That threw me off a little. Psychic moment? Or do coincidences exist? The questions didn't go any further because the universe threw me another curve ball with the appearance of Darnell from Big Brother 9. Before my mind could find the secret connection between their simultaneous presences, their buses arrived and they were gone.

Wink and I are not in the mood for gardening this morning. But it's nice outside - it would be a shame to spend it indoors.
commonpeople1: (Mr Stamp)
Hurts Better Than Love

Hurts, Better Than Love, 23 May 2010
There's something Suede-like about Hurts: the chiseled good looks, the photogenic poses, the pop sensibilities aimed a few decades back, and the total lack of humour... if Melody Maker were still around, they'd have plastered them all over their cover by now, heralding them as the new saviours of Pop.  In fact, quite a few people have done that already.  Although Hurts take themselves a little too seriously (particularly in their almost fiction-like newsletters) they are also very good at what they do: synth pop with hooks that merge East 17 sweetness with New Order's melancholic beats.  They come from Manchester and they perpetuate the myth of all Mancunians being prisoners to a perpetual rain blanket.  Some time ago, their brilliant song "Wonderful Life" [1] was leaked with an accompanying video but it didn't even get a single release - the official debut is the equally good "Better Than Love".  The B-side is a good remix by German electro house combo Tiefschwarz.  Hurts are supporting Grace Jones, Hercules and Love Affair and Cut Copy this July at Victoria Park's Lovebox.  Can they translate their lights down danceclub aura to the sunny outdoors?  Will be interesting to see them try.

// Hurts Home

[1] My boyfriend just walked in and ordered me to trash "Wonderful Life" from my iTunes. He hates it; says it goes on for "too long". Pffff, what does he know?
commonpeople1: (Default)
The Magnetic Fields played a mellow and folksy gig last night at the Barbican, very much in spirit with their latest album "Realism". The place was drowned in a sea of bookish gay men and girls looking for tattooed boys from Birkenhead. Everyone wanted to really really open their eyes. There was also a four-month old baby that curiously stared at proceedings until the second half, when it was past its bed time; and there was a teenager who arrived with his parents then watched the show by himself. He didn't look like your typical Magnetic Fields fan.

There were some unusual choices from their back catalogue, some from the new album, one from the Gothic Archies and two from The 6ths. Lovely surprise of the night came in the form of Amelia Fletcher from 80s indie band Heavenly joining them on stage to sing "Looking for Love (In the Hall of Mirrors)" from The 6ths first album. It's about gay bars, apparently - where Stephen Merritt can admittedly be found when seeking inspiration.

Earlier, I popped inside the Curve gallery to see Céleste Boursier-Mougenot's exhibition. There are zebra finches loose in the desert-like space... and musical instruments. I won't tell you more because you need to see it for yourself. Let's just say that it's beautiful, hypnotic, free and will leave you with a smile on your face.

At Bardens

Feb. 13th, 2010 03:07 pm
commonpeople1: (Default)
Bardens Boudoir

Bardens Boudoir is a basement venue in Dalston with a slightly low ceiling, peeling red walls and seats tucked into awkward corners. It also has a stage and I believe lots of local bands play there. Last night, Catapulte Records put on a great evening with three bands plus a Scottish poet (Gerry Mitchell) - the first in what I was told will be a regular night from now on (the next one is on 24 March, I believe).

First band up was Helium and Eggs, who just get better and better with time - each gig they seem to play the same songs with a different combination of instruments - and whose new songs are darkly melodic and just damn brilliant. I'm looking forward to when they finally get a CD out. All too soon their set was finished and a cute trio of Japanese girls climbed the stage. No Cars are their name and they stole the show last night, but only because they played for longer than Helium & Eggs and had the advantage of a larger (and tipsier) audience by then. They are three gorgeous girls that play Sarah Record-esque music, full of banter and smiles when things (often) go wrong. For a moment I nearly believed they were based in France and visiting Hackney halfway through an European tour.

I got lost in conversation when Gerry Mitchell took to the stage with his music accompaniment and by the time the final act of the night, The Rebel, came on I was somewhat nauseous from a few pints going straight to my head. Didn't really enjoy The Rebel's sound but could see that the rest of the crowd begged to differ - his available LPs were all snapped up.

Weirdly enough, I ended the night working the door for the first time in my life. Friends meant to check stamps or get money were too distracted by chatter so it was up to me to give thumbs up or down for anyone arriving. Luckily, the bar owners told us to stop charging £3 since the live music was over and just let anyone in (people who seemed mostly like turn-aways from Dalston Superstore). I came home with Guess What's CD "Yuri Gagarin" and woke up today dry for water.

Some free MP3s from Helium & Eggs and Guess What at Catapulte Records.


Feb. 7th, 2010 05:24 pm
commonpeople1: (Cormac)

the delightful "Severed Limb"
Originally uploaded by Panja
I just finished reading an excellent novel set on the waters of the Mississippi in 1857, filled with steamships, drawls, gamblers, whores, slaves and - believe it or not - vampires. I sometimes like to listen to music that enhances the mood of a book; it dawned on me last night at the Victoria pub that The Severed Limb go perfectly with this novel, Fevre Dream. Their self-described skiffle sound has that rockabilly mood of the south, even in their Johnny Cash covers. And they have skinny boys in black dancing to their tunes.

They were a great, little surprise, and I'm sure that their song "The Girl from Bethnal Green Road" only promises more chances to see them locally in the near future.

Afterwards, there was a burlesque performance and by that stage it dawned on my drunk mind that it was my first one too. Dance, tits, then a quick run to the ladies to put the clothes back on. The pub never got full - most people there seemed to be mates with the band or the staff - but there was a general air of friendliness that only encourages returns. (Yesterday was the first time I sat through a whole show at the Victoria.) Somebody must twist Zombina and the Skeletones arms until they agree to play there.

I also saw [ profile] desayuno_ingles yesterday, who was in the neighbourhood to pick up her sowing maching at Sew Amazing. We took her to Broadway Market for some lunch and had a brief look at the new shop/gallery that opened on Mare Street: The Last Tuesday Society. One of the staff was one of those people that proclaim outloud "I wonder how I'll die. Probably from an overdose" and there was a gray parrot observing everyone quietly by the front door - not to be confused with the various stuffed animals about the place.

I spoke to my mom on the phone and it looks very likely we'll move to Brasil for six months at the end of the summer.
commonpeople1: (Toni)

The Raveonettes
Originally uploaded by Mr November
Back in 2002, when [ profile] wink_martindale and I were celebrating our first year in London, I spent most of my weekends indoors and online because we hardly knew anyone in the city. Wink worked for a comic bookshop and had to cover either Saturday or Sunday shifts; those were the days when I sat in our kitchen listening to 80s music on the radio while scrolling through Livejournal on a dial up until he returned home.

One day, a song came on XFM that caught my attention: Attack of the Ghost Riders. It had the word "ghost" in it - an immediate seller for me - but also a poppy rockabilly tune that I liked. It was the first single from a Danish band called The Raveonettes. A few days later, I serendipitously saw their "Whit It On" EP on sale at HMV for £5.99. I brought it home and thus was born our love for the band.

With the years, we've seen them branch out of their rockabilly obsession into explorations of America's motown and country past, cut the 3-minute pop song like masters of the form. We were there at the Astoria some years ago when Sharin had to sing by herself the whole set because Sune had lost his voice - and how they turned it into a memorable evening rather than a disaster. So it was only natural that we would buy tickets for their gig last night at the Islington Academy, where they'd be promoting their new, and very good, album "In and Out of Control".

Another serendipity (or is it synchronicity?): we found out about a month ago that a good friend of ours, [ profile] desayuno_ingles's boyfriend Senor El Guapo, had signed up to be their European tour roadie... culminating at the Islington Academy.

Wink spent his spare time during our early years in London writing and illustrating a book called The Fur Trap, which came inside a 7-inch single sleeve. He played The Raveonettes all the time as his background music/inspiration so he thought it might be a nice gesture to print them a copy and deliver it to the hands of Senor El Guapo to then pass it on to the band.

We met Senor El Guapo at the bar and handed him the book as well as a Xmas card and gift. He was suffering from food poisoning and looked about ready to pass out. We silently prayed he'd be alright through the gig and wouldn't have to deal with any disasters/split strings. He flipped through The Fur Trap and said they'd love the book and could read it while they waited backstage for the support act to finish.

Wink and I then stood there drinking our Carlsbergs and marvelling at how life takes these unexpected turns sometimes and brings you close to the things you love the most.
commonpeople1: (Clarice)
My novel for this year's National Novel Writing Month is called Jason Voorhees Is Dead. I wrote just under 20.000 words before I had to give up due to repetitive strain injury (an ongoing problem since then.) However, Jason is not dead. I plan on taking up with him again sometime in the holidays, when my fingers are relax'a'licking good.

By the way, next time you slag off Jason because he's ugly or he killed scores of horny youngsters, just remember that he was a victim first of all. Of bullying, of his wacky mom. Have some compassion.

Some weekends ago, at Warp Records 20th Anniversary, I was sitting in The Coronet's bleachers resting my feet when my friend Natallica asked if I had a mild form of OCD. Yes, I replied. I think I do. Because when iTunes' Genius and Amazon's Recommendations tell me to listen to something, I make a Spotify playlist out of it. Because what's random to others is synchronicity to me. Because, like I said, I haven't given up on Jason yet and will make those 50.000 words squeal by the finishing line.

A mild, mild form of OCD.

I've been posting my NaNoWriMo ramblings over at Succès de scandale because Wordpress has this neat system that tells you what people type in Google to find you. From those searches I create new posts - a type of spiral that feeds back into Google and pulls closer ever more people interested in those topics.

I also have Google Alerts for anything to do with succès de scandale. Over a week ago, a story came up about the American artist Ed Kienholz and how an exhibition of his in the 60s was particularly scandalous. I was suffering from insomnia that night so I took the opportunity to write a short piece about it. As I was finishing, my brasilian friend B woke up and found me in the living room. The piece wasn't discussed between us.

Later in the day, when I got back from work, I found B sitting in our living room checking his e-mail. He was coming down from a LSD trip. He told me he'd been downtown and visited the National Gallery, but an art piece by Ed Kienholz freaked him out so much that he had to find refuge with Van Gogh's Sunflowers. Do you see the beauty in this synchronicity? Now, I have to of course visit the National Gallery and see this piece before it leaves. I'm hoping that new doors will open from the visit.

April 2017



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