today i shall be attempting to catch up with myself. so so lazy right now. ack.

***

friday
♥ v movie at canal 125!
♥ cloakroom duties.
♥ ALL THE BEST MUSIC IN THE WORLD EVER. honest.
♥ awesome decs and lights really giving the place some atmosphere.
♥ much dancing. either in the cloakroom or on the floor.
♥ much nattering.
♥ a very chatty random local young man, insistent on sharing very good shopping.
♥ 'you should be a glamour model'. oh dear oh dear. meant well. but really.
♥ attempt at early night ruined by temporary prescence at stuart's. whoops.

***

saturday
♥ up early. well, early for a saturday.
♥ to meet pink emma and head to sonisphere!!!! at knebworth.
♥ tedious shuttle bus queue and tent sorting mean we hit the festival proper about 1.45.
♥ what a bloody organised fest it is! two main stages are opposite each other and run alternate bands - THE METAL NEVER STOPS AND YOU CAN SEE IT ALL. AMAZING. the loos are somehow kept almost delightful at ALL TIMES. the ground, despite downpour, remains minimally muddy. it is GREAT.
♥ though we are somewhat disturbed by the lack of a)ACTUAL tattooists and b)crazy drinking.
♥ taking back sunday are a bit rub.
♥ there is a guitarhero-karaoke stage full of losers.
♥ we catch the last song of bjorn again and i am gutted.
♥ in the tent there are a band called glamour of the kill who i must remember to investigate further.
♥ anthrax are great....
♥ but not as great as the STUNT MOTOCROSS which has me squealing like a girl.
♥ coheed and cambria are not there, so apparently we listened to fact instead. meh.
♥ the used have me screaming obscenities towards the stage whilst waiting for tasty cider. rub-bish.
♥ heaven and hell don't take our fancy either (sorry mr iommi!) for which we are roundly chastised by strangers later.
♥ the heavens open! but it's still warm. and it's only rain. sexy cagoule times!
♥ airbourne are totally awesome (in the rain!) but clearly want to be ac/dc.
♥ young guns are tiny children from wycombe on the tiny wee stage but they are jolly good and we watch 'em (in the rain!) til they finish.
♥ oceansize are another one to investigate.
♥ we 'listen' to linkin park from back at the tents.
♥ on the way back in there is a woman rolling around in the mud about to have sex with a man. we point and laugh. security point and stop. somehow she regains some sort of 'dignity' and refuses to get up with her vag on show to the world. security surround her so she can get up. we cherish the thought that we are never as badly behaved as that.
♥ attempt to see thunder in the small tent. they won't let anyone in. despite me counting people 100+ coming out. emma gives up. a man starts to try and start a riot. security stamp on my toes.
♥ but i get in for the wildhearts, hurrah!
♥ but i am OLD, father william, and can barely keep my eyes open. seriously. even drunk i can usually wake myself up for a band i like. find myself nodding off on my feet. so decide to do so safely on the floor at the back. oh dear.
♥ back to tent and am unconscious in seconds.

***

sunday
♥ sunny all day, hurrah!
♥ invest in a red cowboy hat.
♥ arrive in arena, meet some of emma's friends and catch the (awesome) end of buckcherry.
♥ get filmed for bbc4.
♥ mostly sit at the back and natter through paradise lost - the sound was pretty poor for them unfortunately.
♥ killing joke are f'cking excellent. only distraction being a very pretty boy close in front of us. ahem.
♥ i don't remember much of saxon, but do remember we start talking in a screetchy ROCK way for kicks.
♥ lamb of god are jolly good too, for some reason they sound heavier when sitting on the ground, hrrrm.
♥ i think we may have been wandering for mastodon, or talking to randoms.
♥ machine head!!! rob flynn cries like a girl. but MACHINE HEAD.
♥ meet up with ben and his chums. avoid feeder.
♥ drink. herbal highs. taste like joss-sticks. hrrrm.
♥ sit down and listen to limp bizkit going down like a lead balloon, interspersed with the occasional good song.
♥ alice in chains are pretty good, but i have wandering feet.
♥ nine inch nails!!! i really wanted to see nin, and indeed, i remember being down the front. and trent's rather large neck. and not much else. WHAT HAPPENED? this is the beginning of the vague.
♥ similarly, metallica. indeed, my memories are mixed up with hearing "one" by various bands of small children on the karaoke stage.
♥ seriously, the two bands i REALLY REALLY wanted to see. IDIOT.
♥ and that's it for memory of sunday, really. i tried to go and see some comedy. there wasn't any. just a Very Insistent Man who wouldn't take no for an answer. 'came to' in my tent, emma similarly, to find a party going on outside. did we bring them there? WHO KNOWS.

***

monday
♥ the party was still going on as we packed up the tents. eventually just one hippy-wheelbarrow-man-dressed-as-captain-america-with-a-chicken-head was left. he gave us some random shopping he'd been donated by a stranger. we took it, merrily.
♥ shuttle bus queue was farcical. taxis were £2.50 each. seriously, queueing fools, WHY?
♥ managed to go home and leave emma to her own devices (locked out, see. i just lost my cagoule and a singular welly.) whilst i hopped in the shower and went to work. it was an interesting afternoon, i'll tell you that.

***

anyway, yes, i can highly recommend sonisphere! top organisation. top music. on a train from MY HOUSE. the only thing i regret is my unlikely amnesia, and not seeing enough of cob_web and all the bristol people i'd wanted to see in the first place.

most embarrasing things i did?
♥ wore my cagoule.
♥ took herbal highs.
♥ indie cardigan - this does not count.
♥ collected cups for a few quid. hehehe.

***

( set lists for the sake of completion. i think i am getting vague memories of some of this! )

♥ do you like music?
♥ do you like heavy surfy music?
♥ do you like the deptford beach babes?
♥ do you like going to gigs?
♥ do you like going to free gigs?
♥ do you like birthdays?
♥ do you like charleston?

well then. you should TOTALLY come to the royal sovereign pub on northwold road (near clapton, rectory road and stokey stations) on saturday from about 7ish for a free beach babes gig in honour of charley and ella's birthdays.

it'll be awesome.

(live music has to finish by 11 so there's still plenty of time to head out to the various parties / sh5 thingies that are happening later should you so choose. start your night in a lei!*)

here is a facebook link





*(not necessarily literally. unless you want to.)

i've seen sparks before. once. long, long ago in the heady days of britpop, when they were supporting blur at mile end stadium. which always seemed weird.

i can't really remember what they did, due to excessive blur-mania in the air. i do know it was generally crowd pleasing stuff; beat the clock and this town ain't big enough for both of us definitely both got an airing. i remember enjoying it.

and then i forgot all about sparks.

until driving back from whitby a couple of years back in the gathering dusk, slightly broken and tired, when ruthy put on l'il beethoven, and we were all entranced. it was perfect for then, and it's pretty perfect as an album anyway, all deceptively repetitive and orchestral, and completely beautiful.

and last night, at the islington carling academy, they played it from beginning to end. it was simply superb. i had forgotten how intimate the academy can feel, especially with such a performance. russell has more energy than i've EVER had. ron simply repeatedly steals the show. with his super long arms. with his floozy chick. the possee of chaps in the crowd raising stetsons in the air in time with every chorus during ride 'em cowboy is almost, ALMOST as good as ron's dancing.

it was all completely wonderful. and looking around, there wasn't a single face that wasn't grinning with the fun of it all.

more of this sort of gig!

***

the support was from a band called mustachioed widow (?) who were very bizarre indeed. they're a japanese 2 -piece, sedate keyboard player and dancing around singer. (oh really?) they were intriguing. i'm not sure they were good, but they were quite mesmerising. they had pretty visuals and subtitles, and the singer chap was dressed in funeral dress and pearls. mostly they just looked like they were having the time of their lives, so chuffed to be there. so we all watched and clapped, politely bemused. they even cover i married myself. bless.

***

and it was superb to catch up with folk i either don't see often or haven't seen in a Very Long Time. sparks clearly bring out the best in audiences....!

the teaandcrumpets review: it was rubbish, he did stars and for your babies, forgot the words to a new flame and stormed off in a huff. stop. reading. now.

***

sometimes, the internet has its uses. sometimes, the internet pays off BIG style. and if it hadn't been for toriar entering a competition on myspace of all places, i wouldn't have found myself at cafe royal last night, watching lovely patrick wolf playing a gig for no more than 100 people, in a tiny room, with a free bar. you heard me.

we both turned up ridiculously early, and sat in the candlelit hotel bar. after looking at the cocktail menu i was jonesing for an old fashioned. and so i had one. a properly made one. nom nom. delicious. bad spending, good booze.

and then we meandered in, restrained selves from shrieking at the tiny size of the place, and drank tasty free champagne whilst being photographed by someone or other. very bizarre.

and THEN i discovered the free bar, which had run out of anything that wasn't vodka or beer. mmm, vodka.

more importantly, patrick wolf. just him and a piano / moog / violin, plus lady violinist where required, and bishi. he opened with teignmouth. joy!!! i can't remember the last time i heard that live. it's one of my favourite-songs-on-repeat. in fact, when in my workroom the only things i've been listening to of late are wind in the wires and, er, crime of the century. they seem to be perfect music to keep me serene and happy and concentrating. except when teignmouth comes on, at that moment i usually stop whatever i'm doing and just listen, and grin.

old stuff. low key stuff. beautiful stuff. i find myself mesmerised by the mirrors by the stage, in one arch is the reflection of his shadow, in another his reflection proper, and the last frames the actual violinist. we find ourselves right at the front of the stage. i'm almost embarrassed to find myself catching his eye whilst singing quietly to myself. ahem.

anyway, despite the best efforts of some media tw@ts (probably the same ones leaving mountains of white powder in the toilets) braying loudly at the back whilst swigging the booze (to mr wolf's vocalised annoyance) it was pretty darned excellent. and it was ace to have a good old gossip and natter with toriar too. london's brilliant, isn't it? (unless you have the flu, argh, guilts.)

***

on the way there i walked through leicester square, stumbling across the preview for fred claus en route. er, warning. tried to watch that film the other day, and it's pretty poor. don't see it. save your pennies! it certainly isn't worth getting chemical snow in your eyes for, peons.

***

the scrabulous roll-over advertising is really winding me up. chuck and larry can sod right off, thanks.

last night, clairey and i went to see rufus wainwright at the hammersmith apollo, and it was EXCELLENT.

yeah, so, we were standing right at the back. it meant we could have a jig about, as is only right.

yeah, so, rubbish scott matthews was supporting. it meant we could have a sit on the floor and hidden natter, plus emergency beer.*

yeah, so, someone ELSE was there dressed as dorothy! not me! but it was a man, and a sexy dorothy, so my reputation as best ms gale in town still holds. ahem.

yeah, so, it was mostly the same thing we'd seen earlier this year at the old vic, but that was BLINKING EXCELLENT, as was last night.

yeah, so, it finished late enough to screw up my transport home. but this meant there was almost 2 and a half hours (plus interval!) of glorious music.

so yes, there was the majority, if not all of, release the stars, and more from poses than i remember there being last time. there was the lederhosen. there were the couple of judy tracks. there was the simply awesome get happy dance routine with the band. which will always have me squealing with joy. there was the unmic-ed irish song, so impressed his voice is big enough to carry to the back of the apollo!

most importantly, and for my first time EVER, he played cigarettes and chocolate milk. absolute heaven. i'll forgive the piano stumbling. i'll forgive ANYTHING. in fact, i'd have happily listened to just that repeated for the 2.5 hours. well, perhaps with poses interspersed. and the consort. and do i disappoint you. and 14th street. or perhaps just the concert as it was, eh.

if there wasn't book club i'd be going again tonight. **

/rufus joy.








* actually i was very good and only had 1 pint plus a half whilst waiting in the pub. moderation!

** if YOU want to, clairey has 2 spare tickets....

oh my oh my oh my. i am listening to magic fm (hush now) and it's making me SO HAPPY you wouldn't believe. i'm sure it didn't use to be so power-ballad centric? anyway, i only started listening because classic fm kept detuning itself, and i was only listening to that because i couldn't pick anything else up. stupid radio. and it appears to be less able to pick things up now someone nicked our lead flashings. blurble.

***

last night was the decemberists at the royal festival hall, courtesy of clairey. it was a bit weird, actually. i'm not sure they really suit a sit down venue, especially one where everyone feels like they have to *stay* sitting down. there was certainly not as wonderful an atmosphere as previous decemberist gigs, and not as much excellent audience messing around. though we did all get to scream like we were being eaten by a whale. which honestly DOESN'T have teeth.

i didn't seem to know many songs, i think they may have been tailoring the set to the venue with a lot of pre-picaresque stuff that i've never heard. either way, i still love them dearly.

afterwards we popped along to the aftershow for a bit and drank some free wine (DOH! breaking the 'go home early' and 'don't keep drinking' resolutions in one easy step) and chatted to c's colleagues for a bit, whilst deliberatley not talking to the band, because i'm only ever embarrassing.

and that's that.

more anon.

Ah, there have been some days. I appear to not have a terrible amount to say for myself. Well, to you lot anyway. I've been brain dumping a bit privately. Cor, imagine if I got HACKED? End. Of. World.

Aaaaanyway.

Tuesday I met up with Ed and Angel for some incredibly tasty sushi goodness. (Word to the wise - Yo! Sushi are currently doing a 'Rainbow' offer, plate of each colour for a tenner. Very filling! Tempura soft-shell crab! Oh lord, hungry again now.....) Found Gemma and Dan (eventually!) in the Big Chill House, and then popped around the corner to see Feist at the Scala. I really like Feist, I do. But on Tuesday I wasn't feeling it. Downstairs was too crowded for me. Balconies were too vertiginous. I was in a Very Strange Mood (keep that dog away from me!) and we ended up sitting in a booth, chatting away, with the music as background. If ten-years-ago me could have seen me then, I think I'd have stabbed myself. But it was lovely! I'm getting rubbish at gig-going.

Wine inspired me to haggle with t-shirt touts, and I now own a neon green and pink monstrosity that will no doubt evaporate in the first wash. WHY??

***

Yesterday, that is Wednesday, was obviously Book Club at the Albany. I ate a proper dinner. Yet somehow it didn't count as a proper dinner either, as stupid hammeredness ensued. Shocked yet? Thought not. Anyway, Book Club was all lovely and random and endearingly disorganised, just like being in a field again. Functioning 3D glasses! Getting to shout out "your mum's house!" and it be appropriate!

Getting home was a nightmare. Obviously the Viccy line is under curfew because it was caught smoking with Sharon behind the bike sheds. BUT!!! Both Tuesday AND Wednesday the stupid overland train was non-functional. WHY?? Tubes / Leyton / buses make home possible, but I shouldn't be left to forage for functioning ftransport in such a way when inebriated. Poor chap (Welsh comedian, refresh my booze addled memory?) had the bad luck to bump into me on the tube. I talked IN HIS FACE all the way to Liverpool Street. Oh dear.

***

I am OBSESSED with Scrabulous on facebook. Seriously obsessed. I'm not tremendously good though. Well, good enough to beat some people, nowhere near good enough to play with the big boys. And it is mostly fellas that are kicking my ar5e. Having said that, I did just score my first 400 (nice and round, happy figure!) - sorry Cay!

'Tessellating' the tiles into blocks of words is my new favourite thing. Oh dear.

***

Fancy coming out to play tonight? As I am NOT at Secret Garden Party I am determined to have as much festival type fun as possible. This means, in the space of this evening I intend to:

♥ go out for a chat and a meal. You can't come!
♥ head over to Beautiful & Damned. I even have a Big Skirt in my bag, organisation! You can come!
♥ leave early to get back into town for Full Mooners at the Comedy Store. You can come!
♥ sleep on the roll out mattress cunningly stashed somewhere in my office. You can't come!
♥ die. You can do with that what you will!

I feel rotten today. Like I’ve got a stinking hangover. Which is harsh, seeing as the only alcohol to pass my lips was a glass of wine and a Smirnoff ice…. Perhaps by (farcically expensive) ‘premium wine’ they actually meant ‘this-is-not-wine-at-all-and-your-liver-will-pay-a-hefty-premium wine’. Still, harsh.

Anyway, last night was Justin Timberlake at the O2 Arena. Blimey, but that place is scarily huge. And was scarily full of women. All sorts of women. Mostly small girls wearing outfits taken wholesale from the storefront dummies in TopShop.

I don’t know what it was. Possibly the sheer scale and slightly soulless nature of the venue; possibly the fact our seats were quite a way back from the action; possibly the overly vertiginous nature of the seating; possibly my fatigue; possibly my (lovely) pals not really knowing the way of the Pop Gig; but I didn’t really feel it, last night.

Fergie supported, and Fergie is as Fergie does. I’m not bothered about her either way. She didn’t appear to wet herself. The dancers were ace.

Justin was rather excellent. That boy can sing! That boy can dance! That boy can play piano! The tunes are still blinking great!

Actually, I do know where I lost heart. Halfway through the show JT left the stage (perhaps his pizza had arrived) and it was handed over to Timbaland. Now, I have no problems with Timbaland. I enjoy Timbaland. But man, it didn’t really work sat in the middle of JT's set. Everything seemed to lose momentum, and I fancied a sleep. I couldn’t even be bothered to 'put my hands in the air for Aaliyah', does that make me horrible? Yeah, so I lost touch with the gig, and even after JT came back on I didn’t get dragged back into it until Cry Me a River and SexyBack, which you’ll agree are storming songs. But anything ‘less’ didn’t work.

Oh well. I’m glad I saw his lovely cheeky Justin face, and his smooth moves. Plus, on the way home, I loaded Aaagh! up on the iPod, cracked out the LondonPaper cryptic crossword, sang along to rudery OUT LOUD and used bus ninja skills to be home shortly after midnight. Nae Bad, all in.

♥ ♥ ♥

I’m arranging a lunch date with my mother-in-law. Good lord, how grown up is *that*??

Though I do have a lunch ‘date’ at Cyberdog today to pick up some rather silly boots.

It all balances out.

♥ ♥ ♥

(Facebook only reference:) So who’s going to buy me a dramatic chipmunk then?


ETA: myfirstkitchen has just reminded me, the intro music last night was BIZARRE. Seemingly the entirety of a Linkin Park album, then CLOSER, by NIN. How incredibly inappropriate for an audience of (probably) mostly underage girls is the lyric I wanna fvck you like an animal? Still, I, er, got excited and sang along....

The best thing this weekend was getting an email asking if I wanted to go to a Dick Party. Of course, the only possible answer to that question is HELL YEAH! BAYUUUUUP. Ah, joy!

***

It’s been an interesting weekend, in which I have spectacularly failed to do most of the things I planned to do. Things I did do, however:

Friday

Drinkies in the Foundry. Absinthe & lemonade is rather delicious!

Bedroom Bar! Dancing! Drinking! Lounging on beds with ace people! Leaving at a sensible(ish) hour! Ah, I always have an ace night there.

***

Saturday

Lovely drinkies in the Chandos for yiskah’s birthday.

Toasties! YEAH!

Falling over. BOO

Attempting to fall over repeatedly! I don’t understand. Perhaps my shoes were too small and my blood not alcoholic enough.

Home for Doctor Who (meh, although I can’t really comment due to repeated closing of eyes) and pizza and getting ready for slaughterhaus5

Schoolboy (girl?) Error!!! Lying down. Dozing. Did make it to the bus stop, bus didn’t appear. Went back home. Slept. On a Saturnight! Rubbish.

Sweet, sweet, sleep.

***

Sunday

The day of being stood up!

Yoga is cancelled, as I am almost ready for it. Gah!

Tea and cookies is postponed.

I don’t mind, and crack on with serious sewing. Only broke 2 of my machine needles! Well, you try sewing hugely gathered denim and see what happens! End result = basic skirt shape. Now to faff around with ‘windows’ and get some boning and make an underskirt out of the sheet I ruined in the washing machine. Recycle baybee, yeah!

Also manage to deconstruct bodice and start cutting pieces out of actual t-shirts. Wheeee! I can do this! Discover wedding decorations are perfect for lining too. More recycling! Yeah!

Bloomsbury Ballroom for CocoRosie. The venue is weird, but somehow beautiful. The mirrorballs make me sick. The weird kitchen / diner makes me happy. Bump into lanarak and friends.

Rio en Mendio or something similar is all girlish voice and quiet noise and pretty fey. Enjoy muchly.

Tez is a human beatbox. He’s good, but I’ve seen Beardyman….

CocoRosie are entrancing and mesmerising and weirdly vocalled. Tez comes into his own as their ‘percussion’ for the evening. I want to learn the harp. It’s dancy and ethereal and absolutely marvellous. Well done there.

Hipsters, however, appear to get dirtier, and more stupid-haired every day. Cuh.

***

Monday
Ah, I’m in a shockingly good mood today dear livejournal. (Well, I was....)

♥ Perhaps the recent woe was rooted in hormones. (I should check these things really but I’m far too lazy…)
♥ Perhaps I’m happy due to a decent nights sleep?
♥ Perhaps it has something to do with the fact I’m currently sleeping in this.
♥ Perhaps it’s due to my copy of yiskah’s book arriving, new read for the commute that doesn’t make me angry!
♥ Perhaps it’s due to some moocards arriving, though eh, they didn’t quite do what I told them to, and I have no idea what to use them for!
♥ Perhaps it’s due to Republic of Loose English tour dates I can actually get to! If you’re at a loose end 2nd, 3rd, 4th, 5th July, you should go see them. I think I can do the 3rd.
♥ Perhaps it’s due to my face popping up all over facebook, how entertaining. (Actually, normally this would make me cry…)

What’s keeping you cheery today, dear internet?

Sgt Pepper was released 40 years ago today. Hurrah! It’s only 11 years older than me. We could date! Ahem. Also today, kenikki was born. Happy birthday chick!

♥ ♥ ♥

Can’t find stage door, small
Helena Bonham Carter’s
Name fits on one line.

♥ ♥ ♥

I have seen Rufus Wainwright with a full orchestra, and I have seen him play his own songs, but until last night I had not seen him perform his own material with proper instrumental backing. All I can say is wow. And OMG BEST THING EVAR!!!!1111oneoneeleven&c.*

♥ I love the way he doesn’t gig at gig venues, but in beautiful theatres. (Last night, the Old Vic, previously the Palladium.)
♥ I love the fact he dresses up.
♥ I love the fact that blinking flip he can sing!
♥ I love the fact that all the Release the Stars material sounds even better live.
♥ In fact, I love the fact that everything sounds better live.
♥ I love the fact that the theatre is filled with close, multi-part, lush harmonies.
♥ I love the fact that there is a double bass and a wind section.
♥ I especially geekily love the fact the trumpet player has a Bach trumpet.**
♥ I love the fact he has special guests.***
♥ I love the fact he does a traditional Irish song completely unplugged with chamber backing.
( Spoilers for some surprises in case anyone is still to go… )

♥ ♥ ♥

In summary, EEEEEEEEEEEEE!!! I am Very Glad that the lovely claireybiscuit***** managed to wangle us tickets and that I didn’t go to see the Manics for a third time. Rufus is ♥






* Apologies for constant hyperbole at the moment but everything is so wonderful and exceeding expectations I can’t manage to describe it. Is this more annoying than my sulky malaise? Hmmm?

** Oooh we’re back to the Beatles in 1967 again :)

*** Even though I don’t recognise tonight’s. I’m convinced he says it’s Joan Crawford, but it can’t be Joan Crawford, because she is dead. On a previous night of this same residency it was Frances de la Tour. It wasn’t her. Whose name sounds like ‘Joan Crawford’ and would guest with Rufus?

**** I am a BAD Judy fan, I didn’t even realise where this was from. In fact, I’ve never even seen Summer Stock! I had to look it up on the internet! How can I not have seen Summer Stock??! Woe!

***** Who isn’t actually that journal…

Manicsfans! Look! I found Indie Fringe and his band (A Boy Called Wolf it would appear) on myspace!

Oh shush.

(He’s not bad actually. ‘Town of Mice’ is rather good indeed, in fact. I love that expansive sound on the intro. He’s a bit early-on-the-bill-early-in-the-day-ATP-esque. I'd watch them. And he writes a good blog. Jolly good!)

Right. Stop. Spamming. The. Internets.

***

ARGH!!! Iron Maiden are playing the Brixton Academy at the end of June!!! But it's 40 quid. WILL EVERYONE I WANT TO SEE STOP ANNOUNCING GIGS NOW plskthxby.

(Anyone fancy it?)

***

That really is all from me today. Honest.

despite a brief break for work on Thursday, the stuff kept continuing.

Thursday evening I took the wife for dinner locally, to the Village Kitchen, which was nothing inspiring but alright. I had some goose-y pate, very tasty mackerel, and got carried away and also had a creme brulee and demanded some tasty port. Yum! Slightly tipsy by then, I turned down Fullmooners. Twice. (A good decision as it turned out.) Bed. Sleep.

***

Which meant I was sprightly and not dead on Friday, phew! Had a tasty Wimpey with curiousbadger (what is it about Wimpey in Wembley? It's always RAMMED!) and then headed up to the arena, over excited about Meat Loaf!! Purchase of 1x slutty Loaf t-shirt and 1x fridge magnet complete, we took our seats. Good seats! Closer than the Take That seats some while back. I could see without glasses! Phew!

It is the Three Bats Tour, so he opened with Paradise by the Dashboard Light (making it EVEN LONGER than it usually is, an almost impossible feat!) and did Bat I stuff, followed by Bat II and then Bat III. Everything you'd expect to hear was there, with the notable exception of Dead Ringer for Love, bad Meat. He was in quite a sulky foul mood too, at one point taking an audience member to task for screaming. Don't have a breakdown chap, I still love you! And I *know* you've been playing some of these songs for longer than I've been alive, but REALLY, don't mess them around so much. Too slow / incomplete / yawn. :(

Suffice it to say, he wasn't half as good as the last time I saw him. Perhaps that time was only so good as he didn't have a new album to plug. I dunno. My highlight was Rock and Roll Dreams Come Through which is quite possibly my favourite of his. After Hot Summer Night (too slow) and Bat Out of Hell (last of the main set and done properly, phew!). He encored with some rock covers, finishing on Gimmie Shelter. Seriously though, in what world is that better than Bat.....?

P'shaw.

Still, there was fire, comedy, and scary inflatable giant people, plus the songs still stand. We had fun at any rate. Literal dance moves ftw!

***

Saturday I had halfheartedly decided to go to Paradise Gardens. But got distracted by Walthamstow Market (heaps of denim duly bought for cheap, slightly cheating I know.....) and tidying my room. Oh shush, sometimes the mood takes you that way. Of course, once I'd found Talk to Me by the 60 Foot Dolls I was actually physically unable to leave the flat at all.

[Honestly, you think you grow and your music taste matures, but the moment I listened to Angel and Easy (the b-sides) I had to listen to them again and again and again. Just like when I first bought it. Slag 'em off all you want, they have a special place in my heart. What are they doing these days? I can't even remember their names. Carl, I think, was teh drummer, rumoured to enjoy sh1t-play. Oh, and Richard Parfitt (not that one) who, popular indie legend would have it, once received Rick Parfitt's (yes that (Status Quo) one) tax bill.

But your name *is* Richard Parfitt?
And you *are* a musician?

I wonder if it was true....]

Anyway, the evening contained much lovely massage, lovely Devastations CD and lovely sleep. Lovely. Innit.

Also, lovely Doctor Who, with a brilliant episode. I can't cope with the evil scarecrows (don't give *them* brains, argh!) but thought Mr Tennant was being superb, and Jessica Stevenson lovely (oh count them of you wish, I don't care :P) and I can't wait for next week.

***

All of which meant that I was up early on Sunday again (!!! two days in a row!!!) and actually went to the gym for my first ever yoga class.

Oh my! It's *wonderful* isn't it? I don't think my shoulders have been so relaxed in over 10 years. Blimey. Who'd have known that a leathery Essex woman and some dubious New Age Music could work such magick charms! If all that happens is that I relax properly once a week I'm a convert. Actually, it's a bit like the meditation I used to do at the Croydon Buddhist Centre in that respect. (Sssh, I *really* liked the Beatles, alright?)

Kept up with most of the postures, although am a bit rubbish at things like 'down facing dog' and 'the plank' due to rubbish arm strength. I mean, how can I punch people so hard I almost stop their heart (sorry again Rob!) and not support my own stupid body? Give it time. I plan to be back there every week. We shall see.

Due to messing up the start time and no trains OR tubes out of Walthamstow, I failed miserably to get out to games day at Clairey & Johnny's mansion (sorry chaps!) and just about had time to head West to Hammersmith, for a mini pub crawl along the river before the Pet Shop Boys.

Errr, yes. Evil wine lead to speedy inebriation, I do apologise people! However, the PSBs are completely and utterly MARVELLOUS. Seriously. Everything they played was a classic. They have so many! And they played them properly. Listen up, Meat. They were so good, I'm going again on Wednesday. I shall be drinking less though.

***

Monday was therefore a washout. And not just because of the rain. Headache. Cold. So bed and duvet and BURNING pizza were the only ways forward.

Got this far? Have a medal.

***

( Or some (rubbish cameraphone) random Meat Loaf pictures! )


***

Who am I going to see at 7ish in the Bull & Gate tonight then?

---

Back of doom
Whiskey. Ooops.
Objecting to rubbish comedian saying Kiss were rubbish. Vociferously.
Being picked on by rubbish comedian.
Being told off by Sir Tim.
Telling Sir Tim off for telling me off.
Bullying James into offering me a sofa in South London.
The second bottle of wine.
Not heading towards ATP today.


+++

Winning combination of painkillers, heat pack and alcohol.
Brilliant Shellac! Yeah!
Todd Trainer. I’m a bit a lot in awe. Best. Drummer. Ever! (Sorry Tommy Lee. You aren’t even my favourite Crue. Mick Mars! He has ankylosing spondylitis AND called his child Les Paul. Brilliant! Again!)
Bumping into auxyeuxdargent without trying.
Andrew Maxwell and most of the comedy.
Howling at the moon!
Brendan Burns.
diamond_geyser for taking me to task and taking me home.
Soul Mole later! I hope you are all coming.


***

Poll #987038 Waaaah.
Open to: All, detailed results viewable to: None, participants: 11

I feel rotten. All my own fault, yes. Cheer me up?

***

Is anyone going to Download? Here is the lineup – why am I tempted?

Lord, I need some more filthy carbohydrates…

It’s been a morning submersed in music. Wonderful, lovely music.

On the train into work this morning I finally decided to stop listening to the iPod on shuffle, and got up the courage to listen to the new Manic Street Preachers album, seeing as the gigs are rapidly approaching. And oh my word! What happened? It’s actually rather good. This I was not expecting. I can hold my head up high and say I like them for the first time in a while. I wasn’t listening too closely (distracted by the book below) so can’t really say too much, except I did have to stop and do *nothing* else whilst listening to the wonderful Autumnsong with it’s beautiful Bradders soaring guitar lines and excellent solos, and am also loving Winterlovers (heh, I see a seasonal theme!) with the deliberately rough-edged backing vocals in a 60s girl group style. Marvellous! The ‘secret’ track too, ah, wonderful wonderful work. Ranting. Almost a dark surf vibe. Very happy indeed! Imperial Bodybags, however, lived up to my fears. I should stick with my not-listening-to-lyrics-but-revelling-in-music principles. Nicky, Nicky, Nicky….

***

And speaking of Nickys / Nikkis (!) the book that kept distracting me is of course The Dirt, Motley Crue biog. It hasn’t even got particularly filthy and wrong yet, but is compulsive reading. I almost missed my bus stop. I don’t even particularly like the Crue that much either. Hopefully I won’t get as carried away with this book as much as I normally do, otherwise I’ll be fvcking girls all over the place and have really scary hair. You’ll know.

***

Also decided to give The Devastations a listen, now ATP is fading in my memory… :(

p_dan_tic is right, yes, the album doesn’t really show what they can do like the live experience does. But the songs are still lovely, albeit in a different way. And in places you can fill in the noise and guitars with your mind, at least, I can see (remember?) where they came in on some of the tracks. I’ve been listening to some new demos on myspace as well, which are different again. Very mellow. Soundtrack-like. Hmmm.

***

Prince Rogers Nelson! I *shall* be going to the ball. 17th August, 02 Arena. HELL YEAH.

[I’m not going to count up the amount of stadium sized gigs I shall be attending this year, for I fear the indie snob buried deep inside me would be Very Disappointed Indeed. Still, OMG! 2 weeks today I shall be getting ridiculously excited about MEAT LOAF in the evening! EEEE!]

***

Netiquette / Text-iquette (?) I almost always (unless I *really* don’t know or like you. Or I’m too drunk to function) sign off my emails and texts with a ‘xxx’. There’s no implication attached. It’s mostly force of habit. (More than 3 probably means you have done something spectacularly good!)

But do you read anything into it? Do you feel obliged to respond with a ‘x’? Even if you wouldn’t normally?

I’m not *worried*, just curious…..

EDIT: I am a spanner. Comments re-enabled. Disabling was completely unintentional. Doh.

Rightio. Have done with my asbestos for the morning. Hopefully.

Nice quiet night again last night. Started with a mad dash (bumping into and dragging a martylog along for the ride) to HMV to see Rufus Wainwright do a short (but lovely) set in honour of Mojo or something. The editor of Mojo is a MILLION TIMES younger than I’d ever expected. He does have a beard though. Stereotyping – 50% accurate! Apparently sequinned teddy bear scarves are the Next Big Thing in fashion, you heard it here first!

I really regret not remembering to try and see Grinderman. The volume of Rufus was excessive. I can ~almost~ hear the wonderful NOISE of Grinderman that loud in my head, indeed, I ~have~ heard it at ATP, but it would have tickled me something special to hear it in a shop. Oh well.

Was also lovely to see an unexpected pataka, thanks to whom I am now the proud owner of a badge bearing the legend "shewho".* Which isn’t to suggest that I’m a legend, but, well, if you’d like to say so I wouldn’t mind. Oh dear.**

And then home, to clear up misunderstandings and watch another below par episode of Doctor Who***, though it wasn’t as bad as the previous double episode, eh. Mark Gatiss is still incredibly good at being overly creepy. The trailer for the next episode has drawn me in again, although I’m not sure I can cope with those horrible scarecrow looking creatures……

♥ ♥ ♥

There is a (dirty goffic) posse forming to go and see Prince at one of his O2 dates, seeing as it is only £31.12 or something, and you get a free copy of the album. AND it’s rumoured to be the last time he does the old greatest hits shebang. Do you want in? More importantly, are you on the O2 mobile network?

(I am unlikely to be able to join the posse for the dates announced so far, clash as they do with comedy in Edinburgh. Tarnation!)

♥ ♥ ♥

Oh yes, The Masque of the Red Death. A friend has 2 spare tickets for Friday 5th October, including disco after. This is coincidentally the day that I am going (with the lovely perfectlyvague, charleston, p_dan_tic and a couple of others WINOLJ. Fancy it? Let me know and I’ll pass on details. You don't even have to hang around with us, go off chasing actors, wheeee!

Think that’s all!






* Well, I ~would~ have had it some years ago had it not got lost in the diamond_geyser post. Isabelle – slower than carrier pigeon? ;)
** I am using the phrase ‘oh dear’ too much of late. This should possibly tell me something.
*** Last weeks innit.

It annoys me intensely when my preconceptions about music are proved wrong. Almost as much as Hefner annoy me.*

I didn't want to like Coco Rosie. Didn't want to like them at all. I read an interview in which everything came across as far too pretentious and w@nky. But then some stupid hipsters** started talking about Coco Rosie and ~everybody~ appeared to like them which was annoying. ~Everybody~ can't be wrong, can they?  Plus I hate not knowing anything about what everyone is talking about.

So. Roll forward some days. I am sitting very still attempting not to touch my computer because it is in the middle of something complicated and if I try to make it do any more work it will crash and I'll have to start again. This is torture. I am impatient. I manage to open an internet window*** and load up the Coco Rosie myspace, prepared to work myself into a rage.

And hah! It is pretentious! It is w@nky! But, err, in that way that I love. Oh no! I'm liking them too much. I'm liking them so much I'm looking at tour dates. What sort of stupid band doesn't play London? AKA the Centre Of The Universe? Coco Rosie of course. Why am I tempted by a road trip to Bristol?**** Or Brighton?**** Both are school nights though. Hmmm.


What with this, and the amount I've been listening to Love Songs For Underdogs of late I might have to start re-thinking my misogynistic tendencies towards female vocals.


[I have said 'Coco Rosie' so many times in this post it has almost become meaningless to me. However! In my head I am hearing it to the tune of 'Villa Rosie' by Blur. Yeah. You'll never taint me with your cool, hipsters!]


~~~

Speaking of gigs I shouldn't go to, I'm thinking about Crowded House. Well, it's the fault of the iPod, which keeps bringing them up on shuffle. I've never seen them, which is WRONG. Also wrong, however, is paying £40 to see them support Peter Gabriel. Isn't it?






* Oh, don't get me started on the Hefner hatred! Stupid Darren Hayman and his stupid whiney voice with his stupid whiney songs and his stupid whiney face that I JUST WANT TO PUNCH…. En route to ATP this year when a Hefner track came on a compilation I actually found myself clenching and unclenching my fists with rage. At Latitude last year I might have shouted obscenities when 'forced' to walk past the little open stage he was on on the way somewhere much better (oh I don't know, Scritti Politti or something? No idea.). But I digress.

** Hah, ultraruby, I'm calling you a stupid hipster! I, err, have no idea why. Sorry! I don't mean it!  In fact, I don't think ANYONE was a stupid hipster, I just like the phrase.  And I like the phrase 'minor indiscretion' too.  Words there, marvellous...

*** Yeah, like it's ever closed!

**** Because I always am anyway?

Haha, it’s good to have an outlet for my nagging that isn’t dear p_dan_tic. Today I have (email) brownie points from my boss for my gentle (for me!) nag about tidying some drawings up. Validation! More! Validate me! Please?

Ahem.

***

Late notice I know, but I’m going to see Gilbert & George today. No two ways about it. The rest of my weekend is too hectic (thanks mum for the notice, grrrr). So, if you’re in the area about 1pm let me know, although I’m very happy bumbling around the Tate on my own anyway.

***

Why is everyone wearing a horrible plastic version of operating theatre clogs as sandals? They’re the ugliest things I’ve ever seen.

***

House was rather ace last night. Best start to an episode ever! Until the overly schmaltzy ending. Ho hum.

***

private_dick is back, hurrah! I need never be bored of the internets again. (I’m not even going to get a chance to read it all properly today, boo. Stupid blinking asbestos. Stupid blinking children. Grrr. I might turn myself off again today, don’t worry.)

***

Oh, and half price Yo! Sushi over the bank holiday weekend, hurrah! Go here for details and to sign up.

***

Last one, mupstasia, is there a pre Diamanda Galas meet up plan for Monday?

*Takes deep breath*

Here goes!

( This entry is likely to contain overexcited babbling along the lines of 'FLUMES!' 'Bring the NOISE!' 'HELL YEAH!' 'Drink through!' 'Straight through!' 'I've been really irritating...' )

****

This is ridiculously long! I am making an editorial decision to put the rest of Saturday and Sunday in another entry. Blimey. tl;dr indeed!












* In my family, this means you've won. Won what, I don't know, but it's always satisfying...
** "Hardest working man in rock and roll" apparently! I'm pretty sure this is true, seeing as he did seem to be in 75% of the bands on in some way or another.....!
*** You all love me even though I'm REALLY annoying, don't you?
**** Alone Again Or, plus that one I can sing to you if you like but the only lyric I can remember right now is "....street, yeah..... Tell me!

Not the most auspicious start to the day, heading for drilling and filling at the dentists. Especially when your hygienist tells you they “can’t be bothered with today” then mopes about and spends some time talking to the dentist (who has to be yelled at to get downstairs) about being up all night in tears. CONCENTRATE ON MY MOUTH!

He asks if I want an injection or to try without. [AHEM. Always Say Yes To Free Drugs.*] Then manages to get half of it on my tongue.**

At least this time he wasn’t drunk!

Apart from that, all goes according to plan. 2 fillings, back next week for the final one. Staggered payment. I make him EARN his £240 if I’m honest; I’m a rubbish dental patient. For one so loud and gobby, I have a very small mouth, which can’t happily accommodate fingers, drills and suction at the same time. “Open wide!” he says, not realising I am. And my gag reflex is somewhat hyperactive with suction. Plus I keep forgetting to breathe. Good lord, how incompetent am I?!

***

Last night to Herman Dune (via rendezvous, breadzilla, cheese and pints at Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese) at that bit of a student union where they have Collide-A-Scope. The one that isn’t David*** isn’t there, and they aren’t as magical as they were at ATP last year. I suppose ‘discovering’ an amazing band with the first act you venture out for helps with the magic. And general ATP goodness. (Oooh! ATP kids! Physical tickets arrived in the post this morning! I did a little “squee”!) Anyway, yes, the band. Clearly the David Herman Dune songs are the ones I like best anyway****, so plus points for ace set list. And choice of cover versions. But something is missing. Still very good indeed, but not amazing.

One thing I did discover last night is that I do have an actual bad back*****, causing me to have to sit down like an old woman 45minutes in. I think I might visit a chiropractor, anyone able to recommend one?

***

Herman Dune, however, paled into insignificance due to the glorious song that came onto my iPod whilst walking over Blackfriars Bridge. I could not keep the glee (nor the giggles) from my face, I think many commuters thought I was a)high or b)laughing at them. And more joy, as lanarak is not only aware of it, but appreciates its worth! FANTASTIC lyrics under the cut, see if you can guess who it is. Then I’ll tell you what it sounds like. Don’t cheat, there’s at least 2 of you that’ll probably either know or be able to guess easily…..

( Excerpt of lyrics below! )

Kudos and points to darkship for correctly identifying Meatloaf, from Bat III. In the Land of the Pigs (The Butcher is King). It is amazingly overblown, and somewhere between Gary le Strange and Iron Maiden. Excellent. In a highly dubious fashion.

***

I did a stupid meme this morning that said I was Ani di Franco. Which is silly really, I don’t think I’ve actually (knowingly) ever heard her work.













* Not a motto per se…..
** I still haven’t been able to get my stud back in! Stupid floppy mouth.
*** Ivor? Ivan? Brian? Percy? WHATEVS. [Andre. Yes.]
**** Good For No One is my favourite I think. That, or Baby Bigger.
***** Aside from my rotten shoulder girdle, which hasn't been right for years.

So. Months of hype. Overexcitability. Shiney red shoes. On Monday, I finally got to see Wicked at the Victoria Apollo. My wonderfully cheap dress circle preview tickets had a FANTASTIC view, I urge you all to book scarily in advance for these ace deals :)

But what did I think of the actual show? ( I should probably cut this in case it has spoilers for Wicked the musical, Wicked the book, or general Oz mythology, although if you don't know most of this nonsense you are obviously very good at steering my conversations elsewhere. Onto Wings, perhaps. Anyway....... )

In conclusion: a damn fine night out, but I think I'd have enjoyed it more had I not expected it to be true to the book. It is a good show, and a good story, but it isn't really Wicked. Does that make sense? I don't think I'm going to spend a fortune going again, at any rate....

******

I was feeling grumpy last night, prepared to be let down by Marion. However, a mini pub crawl of Camden and chance meeting with angelv and sibling later things weren't so bad. And, like one of those rude people I hate, I forced myself down towards the front of the Barfly (where all the ljusers in the world were) before they came on.

Cor, and I loved it so much more than Bath! Perhaps due to not having to look after acid-flying friends, perhaps because I knew how to get home, perhaps I've heard the new songs more. But ahhhhhh, 'Time', 'Fallen Through', 'Sleep', 'Sparkle', all good stuff. And I think I'm falling in love with 'Crystal Blue'. They're still the same old Marion, and Jaime appears to have one of those 'colds' (oh dear), by which I mean I love them dearly, but can't see how they are relevant to *now*, or what they're trying to be.

*******

It would be wrong to think of a computer game character as attractive, wouldn't it?( image behind cut )

I had to stop playing DS on the train today, as I'd got up to the fingerprinting stage of Phoenix Wright, and didn't fancy looking like a mental whilst blowing pretend dust of a screen........