September's here again

[alexsarll]

Planning to write up my seaside trip with xandratheblue, I realise I haven't even documented the previous Devon excursion without her, when I climbed the hill-fort to hang out with the dragonflies, and hit the country show. The sun was glaring then - enough to turn me into a literal redneck over my brief stay - but it had barely warmed the sea. Whereas this time the light was gentler, and the sea almost warmish once you got used to it. As well as which we took in the model village, the funicular and the ramshackle bookshops, and were generally twee in a fashion I think my parents find more bearable than most other people.

I've still not entirely come down from the Kate Bush show. Despite failing at the final hurdle when tickets went on sale, I was still quietly confident that the world would work itself out, and lo, after a tense weekend we were at the first show, a dream of fish and birds and most of Hounds of Love (one of the best albums ever, as even the boring rock mags have recently started to realise) live for the first time ever. The problem with that being that all other shows afterwards tend to pale for a while, not least the immersive Lovecraftian theatre thing we attended not long after, Dagon. Sorry guys, you have some good stuff here, but your fish people aren't the best ones we've seen this week. Also seen: Mr B and the Mystery Fax Machine Orchestra, the Indelicates (still amazing even when Simon is dicking around for much of the show), and the Mechanisms, whose steampunk worldbuilding and charismatic frontman are sadly not matched by their slightly lacklustre songs. Plus, the bands at the Spa Fields Festival, which is essentially a village fete with better music/jumble sale contents/location for my convenience, and thus much to be encouraged.

New things I have tried of late include Persian and Nepalese cuisine (each having at least one dish I deem pleasing, neither of the names of which I can properly recall - go food blogging!), and some new clubs. For a given value of 'new', given that Glitterati was essentially playing familiar pop and such, and Glampires is pretty much a revived B-Movie (which was itself already playing music from an earlier period at the time). Still, both fun, and looking at the new music I've been enjoying this year, there's precious little of it that would work in a club - even FKA Twigs, who is somehow bafflingly thrown in with dancefloor genres by too many lazy critics who don't seem to be hearing her even as they recommend her.
(I also went to a Britpop night in Shoreditch, but that is very much filed under 'let us never speak of this again')

Comments

[miss-newham.livejournal.com]

I went to Father Dagon too! I found it quite underwhelming, though one of Sara's friends was performing the music and that was quite good. It didn't help that the rest of the audience appeared to be middle-aged relatives of the cast and happily chatted away while all around was fishy despair.

[barrysarll.livejournal.com]

Yeah, Andrew's invite was what made me aware of it also. Our crowd were more respectful, at least, but one of them looked just like the Mole Man, which rather detracted from the show because ideally the performers should look odder than the audience. Also, I could totally see why they cast the evil priest, because he had a great evil face, but his evil laugh was distinctly sub-par.