Last Sunday afternoon, I was getting twitchy towards the end of a self imposed social desert of a weekend when my phone went. ‘The Slits are doing a free gig down at the Vibe. D’yu fancy coming along?’

A little part of me perked up at the thought of the girls in mud, even though I’d normally do a well judged body-swerve of some tired come-back band ( Read more... )

Last week, I returned from Tuscany with proper Tuscan cold, to find The Contessa staying at my flat (she has spare keys), after a brief sojourn in Britain to attend The Rubber Ball.  There was gossip.  And sneezing.

Saturday, Foxy had birthday drinks in some vile bar in Soho.  Who goes into the West End on Saturday night?  Well; as I discovered in ( Read more... )

My life has been quite quiet this week, hence my journal has been a little like a music shop with all those memes. As one who is often uncomfortable in such places, I apologise: taste in music is not universal, and I’m quite sure that mine will not appeal to most. Most music had a little back story, so I hope it didn’t hurt too much.

This weekend, ( Read more... )

Last night, I went to a thing at Project 142, a beautiful old factory in East London, currently squatted by a bunch of artists /musicians/ recycling, squat people. It’s a huge space, with one chilled room filled with comfy sofas; a bar with DJ; the performance room; and a pretty, courtyard all laid out for the hot summer’s evening we had. After ( Read more... )

Thursday night: band balancing precariously on the tightrope dividing crazed and clever entertainment, and self indulgent piffle; a man with a snake locked in death strike in a bottle of whisky; Guinness with friends in denial of the obvious.

Friday: The Fishwife’s Son is hijacked by lust; I am late for my appointment with the wineglass; Witty Legal ( Read more... )

Last night went to the Betsey Trotwood to see friend’s band. Very Wall of Sound. Also wall of friends. One has won tipi accommodation for the summer’s best party, which should all add to fun of it.

( Email dialogue between myself and artist friend (J) who knits strange objects. )