Remove your tentacles from my buttocks this instant, you trollop!

Farewell then, you scum. I've wanted Blunkett's head since he was in Education, reiterating the old Tory lines about teaching children the importance of marriage while stating that his divorce was one of the happiest days of his life. Then he moved into the Home Office and became some sort of alternate universe evil Daredevil, a blind man whose war on crime extends to making everyone a criminal.
Not that Charles Clarke deserves anything but a bullet in the head for his apparent dedication to turning the nation's education system into a subsidiary of the CBI, mind, but it's always fun (if futile) to see the Hydra lose a head.

The Guided Missile anniversary concert was held at the Mildmay Club, a working men's club founded in (London) 1888 and which looks like all working men's clubs should. It has tacky decor, and worrying signs: "No children allowed on the dancefloor after 9.30PM unless accompanied by an adult" (surely that's *worse*?); "Any person found fouling these toilets will be dismissed from the club" (so where are we meant to go?). It is suggested that it's actually a cunning reproduction by East London fashionistas, but they'd have been unable to resist temptation and do it this faithfully. The Strongbow pump is broken and they're not even discounting for pints-made-of-two-bottles so in defiance I opt for the girliest drink I like, Archers and lemonade.
First on is Spinmaster Plantpot, aka 'that short bloke with a bear who goes to all the Fosca shows'. He beatboxes, screams and rants. It is novel, but he overstays his welcome. Next up are The Bent Moustache, who are a stereotype of a support band; for the first three songs you're thinking "This is OK", but then every song after that saps your goodwill for them until by the end of the set you loathe them. I buy a copy of The Mind's Construction from neil_scott and read that instead of trying to talk over them. It's jolly good.
Mars Hotel feature former members of The Yummy Fur and Lungleg, and are a competent indie band. Cunningly, however, they also have a singer who looks, dresses and moves like Alison Goldfrapp. This keeps my attention.
There's far too long a delay before the special guests, especially since the inter-band music is one Fall album on repeat and I don't really like The Fall. But finally they're ready and Touch of Velvet Franz Ferdinand take to the stage.
Alex Kapranos is even skinnier in real life (the jammy b@st@rd). They start with 'Tell Her Tonight' but for the most part they seem to relish playing a set which doesn't have to be slick, doesn't have to include the hits. Each band member chooses a song, there's some new stuff (first impression: every bit as good as the old stuff) and some B sides (of which I only know 'Shopping For Blood') plus a cover of "a song by an Edinburgh band" which I also don't recognise. Then it's 'Jacqueline' at which point I finally lose patience with the peons in front of me* and move around them to the front row. And I'm glad I did, not just because I love 'Jacqueline''s idling battlecry but because next up is 'Michael'. I try not to stare too lustfully during this one, but I suspect I fail. They do it with the proper lyrics, and then during the next (and final) song, 'Darts of Pleasure', I notice a white mark on Alex's groin region. Now I'm definitely staring.**
The poor bloody Country Teasers have to follow this. I can't quite decide what to make of them; a couple of their songs are definitely good but some are just a mess. And does anyone really need two songs which mention Hitler during a short set?

And from yesterday's Independent: Lemony Snicket answers readers' questions.

*I think alexdecampi wrote something about this recently, but when did people become so concerned with recording shows that they forget to experience them? They don't even restrict themselves to cameraphoning the band - they cameraphone their mates watching the band and then play the footage back to the mate, discussing it over the top of the damn concert.
**Hence, in part, my deployment of my new gay(/)Raichu icon, made by the lovely theresnorain.

IMPORTANT: Time off work & birthday arrangements

Today is my last day at work. I leave around 6pm and return on Tuesday January 4th. In between, please do not contact me on my work mail. I should be online intermittently, with access to alexsarll at gmail dot com, and will try to keep up with my friendslist when I can. But if you want to tell me something, invite me to events or whatever then your best bet is to call or text me on my mobile. I will be out of London from the 24th to 26th but am otherwise around.

On Monday December 27th, from about 7pm (subject to trains), I shall be celebrating my birthday in the T Bird, 132 Blackstock Road, Finsbury Park. That's here. I am aware that on that date many of you will still be with families, in transit or whatever, and so will not take absences too harshly.

My other engagements over the period include:
Stay Beautiful at the Purple Turtle, Friday 17th.
Sack Trick at the Monarch, Sunday 19th.
Luxembourg playing a free gig at the Archway Tavern on Monday 20th.
I am sure I will see some of you at one or more of these.