Saturday, July 10, 2010


Saturday 10 July 2010 – WORLD CUP DAY THIRTY

Today I awaken around 7.15AM with the air thick and the sky already a brilliant blue.  This is suffocating stuff.

My TV is still on displaying the BBC news channel which now appears only half dedicated to the Raoul Moat incident.  Indeed it turns out that he did shoot himself and now he is dead.  I don’t think I have ever seen such hyperbole attached to a news story ever before.  The word “dramatic” gets repeatedly uttered although the footage I was watching live last night never came anywhere close to such a description.  All in all the situation sounds a horrible fucking mess which the news agencies now only appear to be making worse as they blow it out of proportion in a tabloid style ill befitting news sources traditionally considered reliable (BBC I am looking at you).  It was always going to end this way, the guy never stood a chance as the stormtroopers began zeroing in.  Personally I find the vision of policemen closer resembling tooled up soldiers infinitely more intimidating than some bent out of shape lunatic hiding in the woods.  The overriding message that comes from this story is “keep in line” more than anything.  Nobody has managed to come up with any footage of Paul Gascoigne turning up sadly.

When all is said and done I wouldn’t be surprised if the book or TV drama is named “Fun And Games, Guns And Fame.”

Slowly I pull myself together with view to heading out to do my grocery shopping.  Having been to Asda on Thursday night today I decide to head to Sainsburys to pick up cans of Bolt.

Outside it is as hot as it is in.  Getting into my car is far from a luxury as I pull away towards Stanway and the weird part of town.  For some reason as I near the store and take in the glory of this Saturday morning I find myself becoming nostalgia for old times spent around these parts, mainly/specifically times hanging around with Chris and Tom.  That’s not to say things aren’t crazy this morning as some loon decides to overtake six cars on a pretty tight road.  Being stuck in the middle I have no chance to catch his up and look for revenge.  This is a loss.

Sainsburys is Sainsburys, seldom does it change and neither does it get any cheaper.  Early on I spot the security guard and in paranoid fashion I sense he is checking me out right back.  After picking up the Saturday newspapers I head to the fridges for some kind of food stuff or drink that will help combat the oppressive heat today.  Unfortunately as I walk the aisle an old lady bumps into me (or me into her) and her pen gets knocked out of her hand.  She looks at me angrily in the frailest gesture imaginable.  I don’t know what to do, I look to her in apology but when the word “sorry” comes out of my mouth it couldn’t possibly sound any more disingenuous.  As she picks up the pieces of her pen she looks genuinely pained and again I repeat “sorry” as again it sounds like I couldn’t care less, I have things to do.  Am I really such an arsehole?  Damn, so now her shopping list runs the potential of missing out items or doubling up on purchases and it is all my fault.  When I finally move on I step up my speed in order to avoid bumping into her in any other aisles.  I am such a fanny.

Eventually I buy my stuff, plenty of thick drinks full of carbs that can live in a fridge.  These will get me through.  I also buy Aero mousses and coffee sachets; this is the craziest shopping basket yet.

The drive home lacks the sustained drama of events so far this morning and soon thankfully I am back in the refuge of Bohemian Grove.  This is my bunker.

By now it is only just 9AM and already my Saturday has served to bum me out.  At this point I check the word count of this entry and it is 666.  This truly unnerves me.

As per routine I put on the Danny Baker show on Radio Five which is the final show before the summer break.  In a way it will be a relief to get my Saturday mornings back, clawed away from routine.  Is this as pathetic as I imagine it sounds?

Afterwards I continue listening to the radio switching to Jonathan Ross on Radio 2 who is now playing out his final days at the BBC.

From here I write well into the afternoon putting in a decent session but not one that necessarily meets desires or requirements.  Eventually I take a break to watch the Zizek documentary which delivers several times over as he dishes out more theories and modern philosophies that sell me.

When the documentary comes to a close I feel suitably inspired to pick up writing and this time I manage to accomplish a more satisfying amount of work.

By now the day is turning into evening and with this I arrange to meet up with Staff and Doug at the Hospital Arms for 6PM.  As ever it’s a pleasure and not a chore to meet up with these guys, not least as it becomes more and more sporadic these days as people gradually move on and away.

Eventually we head to the Colchester Arts Centre for a night of electronic music which is being headlined by FAST LADY performing their final ever set.  Quite frankly it does not feel like nearly six years since I saw them at the Arts Centre with V/Vm in a now infamous night but incredibly it is that long ago (you cannot argue with dates).

As we arrive PHUQ is already well into his lizard set.  As ever the subtleties and nuances of electronic music will generally tend to be lost on me as the crashing beats arrive against the side of my skull in the most disruptive way.  To a person aged 33 this all sounds like old school rave.

Following comes DJ CATTLE HAMMER which is the latest project of Lee Ashcroft.  The set begins with a video introduction going some way to explain the story behind the moniker.  It’s about litigation, devastation and most definitely just saying “no”.  From here the music resembles short sharp shocks of hardcore, more harmful electronica that bounces off the walls and the ceiling snagging some emotive space.  The general degree and apparent attention span of the deliver runs akin to be subject to bouts of electro convulsive shock treatment in a good way.

Halfway through the set there is a run out of his remix of the missing Singing Sadie, who was supposed to be performing tonight, before he runs out with a cover of “TV OD” by The Normal.  Elsewhere there is a pretty nice Gilbert Gottfried sample crammed in there too.

By now it has become pretty apparent that attendance is going to be light on the ground this evening.  It is just too fucking hot to do anything at this time but I manage to find some kind of refuge standing directly beneath an Arts Centre whirring fan.

Next in the schedule comes THE FEZ who does his thing of bouncing beats all over the building which serves to disorientate proceedings and tickle the rectum.  From here one smash of beats crashes into the other as another person drives through the show using just his laptop for the journey.  When I was his age I would hated this reality, resented any act bold enough to be so cold and inhuman.  I guess its to his credit.

Completing the list of local heroes THE ABOMINABLE MR TINKLER tears in with his industrial take on electronic revolution that adds a classically dark air to proceedings as his material still resembles the sound of buildings exploding and the local vicinity shaking.  Behind Pete are bold but basic visuals that add a straightforward texture to the message of the dispatch and the charge that is occurring.

By the time FAST LADY hit the stage there is something of a techno blitz spirit in the house.  Everyone here is a musician and with it comes a rare community spirit and staunch degree of support.  There may not be many people at the show but those who are attend with pride and an enthusiasm for music that feels rare at these times.  Without such attitude and mentality we would all be watching and listening to the same manufactured shit that our dull colleagues and peers at work and elsewhere all invest in and shove down our throats.

FAST LADY remain a fantastic prospect.  Again I cannot believe it was six years ago that they first performed at the Colchester Arts Centre and gracefully scooped up the audience, bringing them onstage for the finale of the evening.  It was one of the greatest shows in Arts Centre history at an incredibly key moment in my adult existence.  In many ways FAST LADY have come to represent a solid kind of freedom to me devoid of cynicism and caked in love, simply brewing and running on pure impulse and solidarity.  Stop me if you’ve heard this one before.

They hit the stage looking as if the druids had won the war.  In many ways their ensemble still makes them look terrifying, which I guess is half the fun.  Tonight sadly is their final ever show as they decide to switch their attention to local amenities and get a job at the council.  Personally I think they will make an amazing addition to their local council.  Music’s loss is local authority’s gain.

Unsurprisingly FAST LADY deliver a big set of chest thumping gestures delivered in a most positive fashion.  With laptops seemingly running on diesel they are retro futurists of the highest order.  Their guitars sound like they emerge from heaven and come from the gods because there are no axes or amps in sight.  And hits such as “Love Dictator” cannot fail but raise an evening.  Unfortunately there is no escaping that barely any of us in attendance are punters.

Assertively the three of them churn through all their hits and eventually close on a truly emotional “Lady” that once more sees the gang jump onto the dance floor and into the crowd where we get microphones presented to our faces in order to sing the chorus of “lady”.  Even I join in.

And then that it is.  No more FAST LADY.  Enthused by their set I actually find myself grabbing a copy of their set list as an eternal souvenir.  This is something I probably have not done in over a decade.  These times need to be remembered.

After the show people appear to want to grab drinks or rock an after show somewhere but I’m just too tired to join in although I do manage to scrape off a good conversation with Loxley on the way out.

When I finally get home it is almost midnight and the temperature is beginning to rise it would seem.

I fall asleep with the new Doors documentary playing in the background.  I can’t say it grabs me.

No comments: