Friday, May 28, 2010


Friday 28 May 2010

Dream: me, The Girl and the Filipino are going to some kind of TV recording.  We are on the tube (the District Line) around Sloane Square area.  Unfortunately we get split up.  When I eventually emerge from the underground the world is deserted.  Somehow I wind up with my Canadian friend Ryan who is rehearsing his play/one man show.  From here proceedings begin to distinctly resemble The Stand by Stephen King.  We get on with business until another group of individuals (survivors) led by a cold woman turns up.  Some kind of conflict occurs after we initially hide from them.

I wake up at 5.20AM on top of my duvet shivering and tired.  I look into my options, the best of which appears to be to crawl under my duvet and attempt some sleep while I wait for the alarm.

Eventually the inevitable occurs and with it time to move.  Even though the sun is already out today it ain’t hot out there.  Swiftly I pull my shit together and get rolling healthily ahead of time.

As I drive down Butt Road this morning I spot Staff walking down the street at a truly early hour, it’s amusing.  Is this a walk of shame?

At the station I manage to snag a decent parking spot under cover.  This is a surefire sign that I am working ahead of schedule this morning.

When I check my email there is a Facebook friend request from some guy called Marvin Selvey (an old school acquaintance).  This is truly spooky as I spotted a doppelganger of him on the Central Line a couple of nights ago.  It wasn’t a pleasant experience.

To be getting a friend request from this person at this time results in some kind of return to the mindset of my Facebook Cull.  With this request I sense that he has not seen the website/project.  Why on earth does he want to be my friend on Facebook?  In some ways I am surprised he has not wound up in Guantanamo or blowing himself up.  To my recollection he took joy in making my final year of school (seventeen years ago) quite miserable.  In the meantime he has probably accomplished little with his life other than to procreate as the last I heard of him was from the school reunion in 2008 when he was apparently serving up blow.  I don’t think I’ll accept this friend request, lets be adult about this shall we (too late).  Ultimately at the end of the day he is just another arsehole that has discovered Facebook ten years after everybody else.

The train is pleasantly quiet today and suddenly I guess/realise the masses have started their bank holiday weekend early (probably the reason why I got such a good parking spot at the station).  Despite this though it is a chatty train, one that drowns out my iPhone.  People.

Beyond a couple of small beaches the train pulls into Liverpool Street business as usual in decent time.  The tube journey across town comes without event but then changing lines at Baker Street to the Jubilee Line subsequently comes with a four minute wait surround by desperate faces representing the first blemish on the day.

As I stand on the Jubilee Line platform at Baker Street there is a sudden clacketing noise emitting from the Bakerloo Line platform.  It sounds like a movie machine gun and under these times of tension it wouldn’t surprise me if it actually was one.  In the end though it is just a malfunctioning train, so nothing out of the ordinary or abnormal there then.

When I finally step into the restaurant the manger from St Martins Lane is making a coffee behind the bar.  I am surprised to see him to say the least.  He is a sort.  I scrape off a little bit of nice nice conversation with him but soon gain escape from the conversation.  As I step into our office the Filipino is already in, am I really that late this morning?

From here the day plays out like a breeze.  I am still slowly doing the year end accounts for the new(ish) company but I really need some focus, clarity and hustle to be attached to the task.

Around mid morning the IT Guy turns up for a rare appearance and it is nice to see him.  He doesn’t sound great though.

For lunch I have penne with merguez.  Its cool, almost a privilege and luxury considering the menu restrictions we have these days as giddily applied by the late Heavy Metal Manager.

Beyond this the afternoon pans out in productive fashion as I finally discover the get go that has been missing from my performance this morning.  This comes coupled with The Girl making arrangements for a ridiculous new tattoo that prompts me to scoff.  This is a girl that complains about having no money but is keen to spend a lot of cash money on such a cheesy gesture.  This world, I will never work it out.

Not long after this we wind up in some kind of tense discussion regarding her plans to set up a market stall.  Up to this point I have kept quiet/schtum but without really saying anything she is sensing and accusing me of being negative about the idea.  I really don’t want to get into this.  I used to walk through Portobello Road daily for two and a half years and see what a market was like.  To be honest I’m surprised by her naivety being a fan of the soaps.  I just make the smart comments “haven’t you watched Eastenders?”

Luckily we avoid too much of a dispute but she does proceed to spend the afternoon waving a photo of a black baby in Africa saying how he would like an apple as she attempts to feed one to me.  What can’t she just leave me alone?

Just before 4PM our boss heads to the bank and never returns.  A few minutes later he telephones the office to say that he has headed to Lord’s to try and get in to see some of the cricket.

The final hour thankfully turns out to be a fast one.  As ever with Friday afternoons I experience an end of week burst of activity before 5PM arrives and we all head off for the weekend.

From here I head straight down to Green Park and then along Piccadilly to Shaftesbury Avenue.  On the way I stop off at a Caff√© Nero to get a Frappe in order to insert some kind of caffeine injection.

Eventually I reach and pass the Curzon and the Palace Theatre, which was the scene of my disaster and defeat on Tuesday night.  I wonder how Sophie Rooke’s week has run in comparison to mine.

Predictably I wind up in Fopp where it houses the usual goodies and I eventually take home 2 books, 2 CDs and a DVD for £12.  What credit crunch?

Finally I make moves towards the South Bank past The Ivy, down St Martins Lane, across the Strand and onto/over the Golden Jubilee Bridge.  These streets are amazing.

I get to the Purcell Room in very good time, lending me opportunity to get a drink before heading into the hall.  Without even rushing I wind up one of the first people in the room for LED BIB this evening.

As I wait for the evening to begin I watch the keyboard player check on his stuff while some guy in the front row shouts “I saw you in Kilburn”.  At this point an awkward moment ensues as the keyboard player appears to quickly come to the conclusion that this guy is a nutter who he wants no part of.  It proves to be entertaining watching the player panic as he attempts to make his escape behind a curtain he cannot find access through.

My own personal awkwardness occurs when a group of three middle aged people sit around me.  The woman then asks me if I would mind moving so that they can sit together and like a tool I comply only to realise that their spare is not the seat next to me but one in the aisle in the wings.  I have just been bumped to the wings for what reason again?

In the end despite this I have a great full view of LED BIB who once again are an incredibly powerful and affecting unit on stage.  Tonight they also appear fuelled and very much benefiting from playing in front of a home crowd.

They begin their set with a couple of new numbers as they pursue their trademark crushing songs being perfectly framed by electric bass and a heavy wave of dense keyboard sounds that are often distorted and manipulated to match the occasion.

There is a modern playfulness attached to LED BIB that reminds me of John Zorn.  In different hands they might have moved in the same circles as Tortoise but for now they appear to be going in the more respectable and traditional route (as opposed to hipster).  That said as the unconventional keyboard lines remain echoing the grand legacy of Sun Ra, this truly is an act that manages to make exciting waves.

Far too quickly their first set comes to a close and with it a visit to their merch stall and the bathroom.  As I check my Twitter I discover through Richard Herring that Gary Coleman of Diff’rent Strokes has died.  At least I didn’t learn the news from DRUNKHULK.  It had been reported in the news this morning that he had been taken poorly but this feels an all too quick move to his passing.  Notch up another celebrity death that I have heard through social networking.  He had a short life.

From here LED BIB return for their second set which is another dazzling display of musicianship.  Once more they mix new material with old favourites in a very pleasing manner as the set rolls at an often hypnotic and mesmerising pace.  These are modern compositions for which an appreciative audience feels so seldom and rare in this day and age.

As the set nears an end and the various members have their individual introductions it is left to the drummer to do the verbal duties who at one point finds himself heckling the bass player into getting a hearing test.  What?

The set closes majestically, reminding of the emotive swathes of The Cinematic Orchestra sending their set into higher regions.  Then beyond a rapturous response that demands and commands an encore by 10PM the night is over.

With a sense feeling cleansed I rush back to Waterloo and over to Liverpool Street where I happily hop aboard the 10.30PM Norwich train making for a close to perfect evening.

As a result of all this I manage to get home before midnight and in a decent hour (for me) on a night out for a change.  Here’s hoping tomorrow runs just as smoothly.

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