Tuesday, 24 October 2006

Iceland and keeping fit

I'm feeling well rough after my trip to iceland. Stuffed up with cold. Will update fully when I'm feeling less sorry for myself and I've got all my photo's online. There are some awesome one's of bands. Got a couple of celeb stories as well, pretty rubbish really and not particularly rock and roll, but vaguely amusing.

One thing I have noticed is despite using the hotel gym every day for a week, and having gone on two freezing 5 mile runs in Rejkyavik I've actually put on weight.

The thing about me is there is a fine balance between vanity and self indulgence and I haven't quite mastered how to look good and trough like a warthog.

I like to keep fit, I like to keep trim, and this is extremely important to my self esteem. But I also like to gorge myself like the emperor Heliogabalus and drink vats of wine and beer whilst watching my guests perish from my balcony. (When I release the savage beasts into the orgy whilst I'm gnawing on a live swan with 26 deep fried doormice stuffed in its rectum.)

Why oh why can't I look good and drink/eat what I want! There are three options.

1. Give up on keeping fit, but I'm worried I'll turn into a fat buffoon like Christopher Biggins or Russell Grant as opposed to a cool fat guy like George Melly. Too much of a risk....

2. Shun the hedonism, and become a full blown superhero. When I'm ready I'll buy one of those pervy all in one lycra costumes available on ebay made by a chinaman and then defeat the local chav crime syndicate crushing all 14 year olds who want some. (I wouldn't be able to slap down any older kids)

3. Carry on as is, and ruminate on what might have been.

Tuesday, 17 October 2006

Iceland Airwaves Festival

Flying to rejkyavik tonight. Should be a great festival. Packed my thermals and ready to roll. Wonder if I'll sit next to someone smelly at some stage?

Friday, 13 October 2006

Howling Bells and smelly man on train

Went to see Howling Bells at ULU on Tuesday, all in all a top night. They were really tight. Much improved from the last time me and the Bossman saw them. But we all had an excuse that night at the ICA in high summer in the sweatiest gig night of my life. Even more sweaty than when I saw bad manners at some pub in Welwyn Garden City and this bare chested 50 year old fat man slipped and rubbed his ample sweaty moobs all over my t-shirt whilst simultaneously crushing my ankle with his 18 hole size twelve DM's. Thanks.

Anyway, HB were superb. Juanita's voice was fantastic and much as she was gorgeous, the best looking thing on show was the cream and black Rickenbacker she played in one song. Heh heh. I want it.

I love ULU though, one of my fave london gig venues. Always a good studenty crowd and good bar. But guess what... on the train, just sat down, train about to leave, I look down the carriage and see him.

A rough Richard Fairbrass look alike, pirate earring, shaved head, neck to toe in stonewashed denim. He was like a 1980's german football fan wihtout the mullett. Clutching a huge bag... of burger king. I knew immediately he would sit next to me, I resigned myself to the stink of fried food. Why me?!

Monday, 9 October 2006

Fear and Trembling

Just finished reading "Fear and Trembling" by Amelie Nothomb. Quite amusing but also annoying. Basically, Belgian girl (but Japanese born) goes to Japan to work for big corporation, thinks she has a massive career ahead of her, but bollockses it all up by a series of seemingly insignificant cultural mistakes which end up with being demoted to toilet cleaner for a year and looking out of her cleaning cupboard 395th floor window day dreaming.

She refused to resign before her years contract was up as this would be dishonourable. Shunting semi-digested rice and shashimi poo down the lav was clearly the more honourable option for her.

The moral of the story is, keep your mouth shut in a situation you are unfamiliar with and not give it large. People will think you are a prick no matter what culture you adopt.

She didn't keep quiet to find her feet and got slammed down big style and quick time. She turns up and thinks cos she speaks Japanese everyone will kiss her arse. They just thought she was an arrogant westerner, at best simple, at worst someone who was a serious threat to their jobs.

I thought she was a bit wet, if you're gonna be subservient in Japan, then do it full Kurosawa mediavel rural peasant style and prostrate yourself at the local feudal lords (or the head of the accounts department) feet begging for mercy whilst whimpering and screaming for forgiveness.

Either that, or go the other way and scheme to have your work colleagues killed when they dare to dishonour your family when they tell you the coffee you've made for them takes like shit.

The book sort of just fizzled out, no ritual suicides, no demands for fingers, no 50 foot high robot-lizard crushing the city, no aliens or exploding cars. I was hoping for a twist, but it just sort of ended with her handing in her resignation and going home to write books.

Thursday, 5 October 2006

Morning After Girls and Smelly Man on Train

Went to see the morning after girls last night with the Bossman, all good. Really liked them, and prefer their fuzzy live sound to the crisper album versions.

Dark and too cool to smile, they rampaged through their set supporting the Boxer Rebellion. Love them! (The morning after girls that is). Lots of layered noise, and they look great too. Sort of elegant skinny goth characters from the Beano, all of them with waists < 28 inches. Lots of black clothing and po-faced hair flicking. And they pulled it off without looking like a bunch of cocks.

The first band on were called Inbetween Days, have to say they look good, have balls and I wish them well. Enjoyed them too.

Boxer Rebellion I'm not so sure about, doesn't hit any buttons for me. Anyway we left early and got the train home, as it was before 11pm, I was looking forward to having room to breathe on my train without some pissed up freak invading my personal space. Unfortunately a different beast crashed into my aura, disturbing my karma.

Some pin striped suit wearing, dandruff ridden middle aged business man plonked himself next to me. I wouldn't mind, but he stank. Not just of that awful wet dog/stale suit smell, but it was combined with cheap aftershave (I reckon it was called Masculo-Bull or something butch like that), B.O and a horrible overbaked microwaved cornish pasty he was tucking into. He might as well have completed the set and pissed on the seat to add to his stink recipe, then guffed in my face. He also ate loudly, munching with his mouth open. I'm sure the guy opposite had a good view of the cement mixer that was his heaving jowls. Shut up! Stop being smelly!

The problem is, I'm not one of those selfish shits who puts their bag / coat / sack of turds on the seat next to them, thus telling anyone who has got on the train to "f*ck off and don't sit next to me" leading to one of those stupid scenario's of "would you mind moving your bag?", "oh yes, of course" then two people sit next to each seething with rage at each others percieved rudeness and playing a game of thigh vs thigh and see who gives up that one centimetre of space which gives the other a sense of moral victory. Maybe I should compromise my good manners next time and take this approach one step further, perhaps gibbering incoherently in my seat, rocking two and fro and pleading with people to sit next to me whilst barking between words.

I've decided, Humans are not meant to live in cities where they have to rub up against each other on public transport.

Tuesday, 3 October 2006

Latest Gigs and Missing Hat and Sweatband

I've lost my beanie and I'm furious. I think I'm slightly obsessive compulsive. It only cost me £3.95 from H&M, and it is easily replaced. But its the principle. Its gone missing and now I'm on a mission to find it. I do not believe I've lost it, it's in the house, I'm sure the bastard is in the house. As is my Vans sweatband. They are hiding out together in some dark corner, and I will find them. Then I will forgive them, and show them I still care by wearing them once more. I think the last time I wore them was when I visited London a couple of weeks ago to see the Howard Hodgkin exhibition at the Tate. But I'm no sherlock holmes or even Magnum P.I for that matter, or Cagney or Lacey, I can't solve this disappearance. I must try to meditate and retrace my steps, like Professor X using cerebro. I bet I left them on the train like a tw*t. I hope not, they are hiding, I'm sure they are hiding.
Errrm... anyway, latest gigs.

Mogwai - Royal Albert Hall.
They were quality, especially the harder numbers. Coffee table death metal. Absolutely awesome stuff. Overdriven guitars, and melody punctuated with thrashing white noise.

Juliette and the Licks - the Astoria.
Arrived late and didn't realise Humanzi were supporting, a band I've been keeping an eye on. They were ok, only saw the last 3 numbers.
J&TL were great though, you could tell they were enjoying it and they will become massive, glad I've seen them now. Sell out at the Astoria is always a special night. Bossman75 got some top photo's too (check his blog). It's good old hard rock with catchy hooks and riffs and dirty deep south vocals (and I don't mean from Croydon). Marvellous!

Tomorrow - Boxer Rebellion and Morning After Girls. Carling Academy Islington.