Went to a gig with Al last night and felt old. Oh dear. This is where it sets in. I'm only 20! This shouldn't be the way! But I was watching Good Shoes over fifty scenester haircuts. I felt totally out-Primarked. And now I'm sitting here complaining about it to the sound of classic twee. In actual news, the band were good, very classic indie boyband. (
Album review here). Frenetic artrock guitars, fiddly harmonies and, indeed, "metronomic" drumbeats. (Thanks, DrownedInSound). Plus, I liked the support, Vincent Vincent & the Villians. Not as jivey as I'd been led to believe. But they opened with 'Baby, Please Don't Go' (Van Mo), and I was sold.
Talking of Van Mo, my dad was going to give me the record player and all its good sound-making parts.. But he's changing his mind, obviously, 'cos everyone likes a record player.. So how do I talk him around? I think maybe if he thought he was loaning it to me.. ?
In other news, I have a fringe. Yes. I am in the Cat-Power/Pixie-Newsom/Bat-for-Lashes brigade now.. Gulp. When I get a photo I will let you readers review me. Beat me to it by being me in person.
Like Lizzie. She's in there. We're going to see 300 today. Frank Miller-authored, à la Sin City. Then we're going to a private view. IN LONDON, no less. So, stick those various references to mildly-indie life in your pipe and smoke them. (I wouldn't want to).