I know that come February my thoughts on snow will be contrary

[alexsarll]

We had decided there'd likely be a bit of a queue (and there was, albeit with only the one paparazzo), so we made sure to get to the Garage with time to spare. Except that, alas and alack, generalkhaki have been scissorsistered, so we hear only the bottom end of their first few songs from the lobby. But once we're in we get rock'n'roll. And I use that description very carefully; I think the only other modern band I enjoy who I'd describe as playing rock'n'roll are the Flaming Stars. The only time I've seen the General before was a covers-heavy set in a South London living room, from which I knew that I liked them, but didn't really know what they were like. Now that I do, I like them even more.

The muppet who got them bumped on so early is, apparently, the guy who got arrested with Pete recently. He dresses like a bargain basement Tom Baker, but his music isn't as interesting as that suggests. Then it's the Cazals, who appear to be an offshoot of Punk Rock Karaoke.
"Is this one the Adverts?"
"No, it's...'I was shocked to find what was allowed'...it's Magazine, isn't it?"
"Oh yes."
These chancers are really not being helped by their intro and outro CD; it's Tom Waits' Mule Variations and it's outclassing them horribly.

And then, it's Babyshambles. A band where one is not damning them with faint praise if one notes approvingly that they were both present and competent. I expected some gruesome spectacle, a snapshot of a man on the way down, and in this I was disappointed. They're a passable little indie band. We were discussing Doherty over Sunday lunch and I think the consensus was that we could see why teenagers liked the Libertines. They're the sort of band you get into when you need a cult and there's no real cult bands on offer, just like King Adora were, or Mansun. The only odd thing is how much mainstream attention they've got compared to the rest of that lineage. Last night's performance really cemented this for me. Like when I saw King Adora, it was...*OK*. My toe would tap along for a few songs, then get bored. Hell, I probably don't even wish imminent demise on the guy anymore. But I still think we've come to a poor situation when he's the closest thing to a hero some people can find.

What with his curfew, there's plenty of time to hit the pub afterwards, and have a snowball fight en route. We discuss Frank Ferdinand and the exact details of the law on wrongcoqery in a manner which, with hindsight, might easily have been misinterpreted were we overheard. And then I get a call informing me that the contingent we believed returned to South London have actually just returned to the Wetherspoon's. Well, it's easy enough to confuse South London and Wetherspoon's, after all. We relocate there with some trepidation, because her handle notwithstanding, missfrost is the World's Biggest Straightlord when it comes to snow.

I wake up with a green cheek. As ever, my first thought is that the secondary mutation's kicking in at last. But in fact it's just a fun new variation on what happens when I brush my teeth while drunk.

The chances of anything coming from Mars...are suddenly looking a lot better.

I am convinced that my beloved Walkers Max Salt and Vinegar must contain Sudan 1; they were always a bit erratic on the distribution side, but since Saturday nowhere has them anymore. Damn you, I want my tasty carcinogens!

Comments

[darkmarcpi.livejournal.com]

I enjoyed them, but they do quite literally smell of child's wee.

[barrysarll.livejournal.com]

Are you sure you didn't enjoy them *because* they smell of child's wee?

[darkmarcpi.livejournal.com]

Child wee in moderation is fine, but in RB MM the stench can be somewhat overpowering...destroying the delicate balance of the other subtle flavours within.