Musics I done

Monday, November 21, 2005

the worst bagel ever.

if this weekend just gone is remembered for anything, it'll be ixxy's bagels in euston station for monumentally fucking up my bagel for breakfast. how much is a plain bagel, i asked. 75p, they said. that's three pounds you'd be paying for filling. right, i'll have a sesame bagel. ixxy's had a time release bagel rack; you put them in at the top, and they are conveyed down to the bottom where they drop out toasted. oh yeah, i forgot, you cut them before you put them in. there were two asians working behind the counter, male and female, and the woman was clearly the newer, as the first bagel she dropped down it got stuck. after it was retrived, the second one went in. this one got stuck too, only this time, she couldn't get it out. the man hurriedly cut another bagel in two, but all askew, my heart sank as i could see that getting stuck as well.. but it didn't. it dropped through, pushing the other bagel out onto the counter, and both halves came with it. oh woe, i thought, as he brought out the butter, and smeared the clearly cold bagel all across it's middle. aside from the ash around the rim, it was completely uncooked. and yet i recieved it with all the grace becoming of a customer, and thanked him. and this is what the story is really about; why am i so passive? i should have laughed at him, like andyhead in venice at the ice cream seller with the deliberately limp-wristed curling skills. i should have done something about it. i wasn't in a hurry. i wish i could relive it and try again. so sad.

so that story's slightly fallacious, as the bagel is maybe the most forgettable incident. saturday, getting to london and meeting big gril in the city - nay, epi - center of london crowds, and thusm, commercialism, we went for a very nice japanese meal, of tofu teriyaki for me, which was bean sprout central and quite lovely, and a box of various things for dan. we met ed on sean connery's hand print, recorded for the 'league of extraordinary gentlemen' film, and went to chandos bar. and who was there but another durhamer called tom, who i instantly recognised but couldn't for the life of me place until he said how i knew him. it's possible that we watched the princess bride together, but that may have just been andy, the guy who got married in scandinavia, and myself and possibly jo? ah, i remember that evening; borrowing the video from jim - whatever happened to that whole crowd? the only one i have any sort of contact with is gareth, is sometimes online on msn, although we've not 'chatted' for ages -, bumping into andy and the others, andy saying, 'yeah but i've got to be up in the morning and etc.', and me resorting to the 'once in a lifetime' argument and winning. i had a quote from the spark on my bedroom door - something about christian's being more likely to spit on a person - which i had to explain in order to not seem completely outrageous to the jesus crew. ahem. oh god, where was i?

so there we were, ed, my brother and me, and we're not going to follow them into that gay club, not at that volume and not and that price - ok, £3 isn't much if i want to go in somewhere, but otherwise we can forget it. so the three of us continueud onto another sam smiths pub, charming with all the trappings of an olde pub, like bits of wall sticking out at shoulder height that you have to climb under to go to the toilet, and eventually, jez, pete, pete's mate (sorry i've forgotten your name) and even the kitchen sink, yes, cara flowers, who i've not seen since valerie on st. valentine's day last year (?). there was a hearty debate, inter-group bonding and breakages, and it was a swell night. went back to dan's and slept in his very cold living room - it was better after i moved onto the couch. i thought my sleeping bag would protect me..

on sunday, after remembering that i'd left my shoes at the front door because they, and now the carpet, were covered in poo, i left ealing with all my belongings and was at tottenham court road station by 10.00. no-one else was, or would be there for at least half an hour. i walked off down the street, stopped outside a closed megastore and asked two passing policemen where a cash point was, despite the fact that a lloys/tsb sign was visible from where we were standing (obviously i didn't realise this at the time, but i'd just been down the road where they said and there was nothing there, so i looked on. i had the best veggie sausage roll; i can't remember the shop, but there was one in bath when dan lived there. turning back and going down another road (charing cross?) i was surprised to find exactly the same shops as i'd just walked past, but in a slightly different order. if anyone tells you capitalism and globalistation are about choice, just point them round there, it was like a stuck looping cartoon background. eventually i found an independant cafe, but it was the pits and was supplied by star and j.j. fast food catering. at least there were hash browns. it was all i ate until falafel and chips at midnight; but more on that later.

i'm going to break a wierd taboo now - it's not even mentioned that it's taboo, it's so unspeakable -, and mention the band, because no-one else has. we got in and tried our best at 'this town...' and 'kate', which finally clicked for me on the train home. when the time ran out we fled across london to another studio, practiced practiced practiced, and recorded two cuts which maybe i'll be allowed to link to. i can't wait to hear them; they sounded terrible at the time, but i'm hoping that that'll have rusted away somewhat. then we went to 'east london's newest music venue', an original claim, as by music they mean smash hitz t.v. at full volume on two inescapable screens.

then i went off to see melt banana with matt and his spare ticket. 'i'm being good' were supporting, and didn't impress me much, but the banana were amazing. i've been waiting for this gig a long time, on both previous events they had sold out. i went giddy just before they came on when i realised they were finally touring 'cell scape', and they'd be playing all that crazy guitar/beat stuff - what that guy can do live with his hands and feet is incredible. on the record one wonders if it's just been messed up with protools but when he's making those noises in front of you, one must simply accept it. they remained nearly effortless for the whole performance, an hour including two encores, by the end of which, the singer's throat muscles were really starting to show, although her voice was still perfect. you think she's just cute, don't you, in her white hoody, with her little nippy voice (that's a reference to her noise, not her race), but blimey, she must do some working out - she is strong.

this morning something happened which has been waiting and building for a while - i bumped into russell preston. there i was with my shit bagel, sat on the floor, waiting for the platform to be announced, and suddenly there he was, coming over to me, and my jaw went slack. i just couldn't believe it, meeting someone i'd been so eager to re-establish contact with (i tried over friendster a while ago but didn't follow it throughand ended up looking too foolish to re-attempt). he's been in london a year. i chatted as long as i could, but trains won't wait.. maybe we'll meet up again soon..

i meant to record 'new boyfriend' tonight, but watched the first episode of the prisoner instead, which may set a worrying precedent. it's the first time i've seen it since tinyness, and do you, i think i prefer captain scarlet (at this stage). the audio mixing was terrible, background noise over one person's lines and then silence over the next! the acting was pretty crap too. very wierd camera work - generally quite bad, but with occaissional flashes and very short cuts that were quite maddening, in a good way. hmm. i'll try not to watch them all at once.

to cap things off, i've discovered that i have my own page on last fm - click the link in the side bar over there ->. then, download all my songs, install audioscrobbler, and listen to me for a while so that i get a fan. currently, 8 people recently listened to me. i'm one; who are the others? ah internet.
on a similar, and hopeful note, after looking at my profile i notice that big bruv dan 'big' gril is not only my friend, but also my musical neighbour. what tangled webs we weave!

2 comments:

Grill said...

I got an angry letter about your shit today from the lady upstairs, as I hadn't bothered to clean it up, hoping it would just wear away.

Also, apparently I'm your neighbour, but you're not mine. The vagaries of musical taste, eh? I'm sure we'll grow apart anyway, just like life...

Grilly said...

people who don't like shit or mud on carpets should live in houses with darker carpets.