Semi Preicious Photos

Below are some photos from the SPW gig on Sunday which I wrote about 2 posts below.

Photos courtesy of Chris Martin check out the rest of his work here

Check me out in the last one :)

A night I'll never forget!

RIP Beadle

1948-2008

Semi-on Precious Weapons

I saw 8 bands over the weekend and the best by light years was Semi Precious Weapons. Dressed in gold stiletto heeled boots, sheer black tights, golden cummerbund, shredded shirt and black mascara with dirty blond hair and at 6 foot tall Justin Tranter (singer) looked like he'd steeped out of the glam punk seventies after visiting the current New York gay scene (you wouldn't want him creeping up behind you in a dark alley, or maybe you would, I'd say he was worth switching teams for) in to a relatively (compared to the band) small Shoreditch boozer. I was impressed. I imagine I would have felt something similar if I saw Bowie as Ziggy Stardust for the first time.

Before the gig I hadn't heard a single note but as the crowd swelled I just knew it would be an awesome night. Awesome it was after a belting opener they greeted the crowd by calling us cunts. When a band call the crowd cunts and they lap it up you know they know they're something special. I can't describe the songs and the record (which you can download free on their page) doesn't do the live show justice even though it is still excellent you'll just have to trust me when I say you need to hear them like yesterday.

My favourite songs were Magnetic Baby, Jesus, That's Kunt, Rock 'n' Roll Never Looked so Beautiful, Her Hair is on Fire and Too Pretty to be a Cowboy.

When I left my heart was racing, I hadn't seen such an amazing gig in forever and what made it better was the fact I didn't drink too much and forget it all. Go team clean living.

The next time they're over I can see them playing Astoria sized venues at a minimum and I just can't wait.

Check me out gushing all over the place.

I'll post some photos when I can get hold of some.

Cunts!

and if for ever

I didn't get that job I was going for.

Never mind, the extra cash would have been nice other than that I'm not too fussed. Some people mistake this for being unambitious, that's not true, although my goals are small and not oriented towards the same things as most people doesn't make them any less important.

Not much up with me recently other than a big arse migraine (that's not a migraine in the arse by the way) lasting seven days, that was rather crippling. I bought Wilde's The Importance of Being Earnest and Being Alive a rather nice anthology of contemporary poetry which I can dive on and out of. I'm reading Irvine Welsh's If You Liked School... which is really good, he actually writes how the words are spoken in the Edinburgh accent for example: thinking thit the hoor shouldnae pit ehs first name oan the paper if eh doesnae want ays tae yaze it.

I need to start watching less telly aswell. I'm addicted to Friends (it's like having a warm fire in in the background) and Top Gear (I don't even drive!?). I spend far to much time working and lazing in front of rectangular screens. Hence spending more time with rectangular pieces of paper.

Hopefully going to see Semi Precious Weapons on Sunday if I get back on time from dropping off the boys. It will also be another test in not drinking or maybe even abstaining.

Fair thee well

This year I will mostly be...

I know it's a bit late but I wanted to talk about the year ahead. I haven't made any resolutions as such because I never stick to them anyway. I have have, however, made some aims/goals they're quite achievable and things I actually want to do.

So here goes...

100 bands.
50 books.
Drink less.

That's pretty much it really. The point is reading instead of watching TV and DVDs and seeing bands and remembering them which will have the nice side effects of a healthier liver and bank balance.

Not off to a bad start but did miss 2 gigs and one was because of the drink. The first night I went out this year was to friends house for an informal dinner party, thinking I wouldn't drink too much I had a coke to start with but switched to gin soon after but I was taking it slowly until we started playing 21 with international drinking rules, as a novice I got very drunk very quickly and a litre of gin was gone in what seemed like minutes but I had great fun despite an unknown head injury. The next day I was supposed to go to a gig but as a result of the copious Gin imbibing I was in no fit state to do anything other than lie still in a dark room.

I've been out twice since, once to the Stage Door in Waterloo where I had juice and sodas and I wrote a rubbish poem (the result is below), the second was last night when I went to a gig (Lightspeed Champion and The More Assured at the Epicurean Lounge, Clerkenwell) and I had 5 drinks in the space of 5 hours in 4 bars and I didn't go into my local on my way home which is what I would normally do.

So, other than the lapse at the dinner party I think I've been doing rather well on the drinking front. As for the bands I've seen 2 so far but it's early doors. And books, well I've read 4 so far (Brick Lane by Monica Ali, By Grand Central Station I sat Down And Wept by Elizabeth Smart, A Concise Chinese-English Dictionary For Lovers and 20 Fragments of a Ravenous Youth both by Xiaolu Guo) so I'm on course for the books. I will post update on these aims throughout and hopefully I can top the number of blogs from last year.

The Imaginary Friend I never Had

Kids are playing football

And the sky's about to open

But they carry on regardless.

The flagstones turning brown

With wet as the ball skids

Followed by their dirty Reeboks.

And I wish you were there

Because we could be together

Drenched in rain but happy

The way I wish we used to be.

 

They don't play anymore

Most have jobs and go to the pub.

And I did too

But then you moved away

I never heard from you again.

 

The ones who never played with us

Never missed it but I envy them now,

They played amongst themselves

Only with words and notes and soul.

I much prefer their equivalent to

A football in the face.

 

I wonder did you join that crowd

Of misfits who seemed so happy.

Not that there's just two cliques

Us and them, them and us.

But you did have an artistic

quality you didn't really investigate

It showed itself sometimes.

Were you aware? I said nothing

We were brave, we were macho boys.

 

Although your footprints made no impression

On those wet tiles, the song you sang was heard.

The only way is up... ...unless

About to go for my promotion interview which should be fun. There are four others going for the same position two external and two internal. I have a good chance because I have the most experience of the internals but it's all about the interview. If I think about it in a paranoid fashion they will hire an external to save from having to replace one of the internals.

I'm not feeling anything inparticular about the interview, good or bad.Just a feeling of dread but that's always there.

Wish me luck:)

Not a love story

When I first saw you I thought nothing just felt a slight intimidation, something which I discovered later was completely unfounded. As the weeks went by I daren't speak to you other than the reason we were both there. After a few failed or aborted attempts at conversation it was you who finally broke the ice. In what could be misconstrued as harsh (especially if you're me) was actually a caring comment I felt our relationship had finally begun.

The fist time it was just the two of us I was nervous, a whole day alone, what would we do? I don't remember it clearly except for the feeling. Happiness! So much so I've never felt so comfortable. It was easy, no pressure, no expectations, you accepted me as is for which I am ever grateful.

I studied your face, its implicit beauty both striking and subtle at the same time. I feel like I've seen too much I couldn't help but unpick your beauty, note your imperfections and it made no difference. I like you for you aswell and those imperfections are nothing. I shouldn't say anything about physical attributes, our relationship is afterall based on communication. She always calls me out when I'm bluffing and as little as a raised eyebrow from me can produce a giggle in the right circumstance.

It feels good because it feels like it shouldn't be, we could be chalk and cheese but we click and it's great and most importantly for me it can't go wrong because my libido is not involved in any way. Go platonic friends yay.

a review of sorts

Something easy to start with methinks...

Song of the year: Michael by Franz Ferdinand. I know it's old but it's made me feel better when I've been down many times in a narcissistic homoerotic kind of way ;)

Getting a trilby was a high point until I lost it when I was attacked.

New bands for me of Montreal (who were absolutely beautiful live) and Rilo Kiley were highlights. and Maximo's new album was fantastic.

I discovered Sylvia Plath's Ariel and The Bell Jar and fell in love. Also got into a lot of poetry with the help of Stephen Fry and The Ode Less Travelled. Other books that deserve a mention are, The Book Thief by Markus Zusak and Bedroom Secrets of the Masterchefs by Irvine Welsh.

More music, saw Foo Fighters at the O2 with Serj Tankian supporting and was an amazing gig but My favourite this year was probably the Hey Gravity! gig at the Barfly their lead singer can't half throw some shapes and cracking set of lungs sets her apart from the rest. The crowd weren't up to much but the set was superb.

Cried at a friends funeral

Finally got divorced in the Autumn. Enormous sense of relief was short lived as nothing had actually changed

Experienced my first kiss since my marriage ended in a surreal kind of way.

Suffered a concussion.

Had a sleepover.

Made new friends who I completely adore and hope to cement these relationships in the coming year.

It's not all but it'll do for now.