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Who the Hell is Blake Plastic?
Jan. 26th, 2009 11:55 amAm finding it difficult coherently to express the wonder of Saturday's Black Plastic, especially since I think it was done so well on the night by that tune with the chorus of "I am here with all of my people", whatever that is. Some not-my-people too - hence shocked initial reaction of "A queue? At one of my clubs?" - but they mostly seemed OK, and they weren't crowding the place to the point of unuseability like the cocking Neil Morrissey acolytes at the Noble. Though on that note - by 8 last night the Noble was back to its charming old self. I reckon we're OK on schoolnights because the new clutter are the sort who have to get up early to drive Tarquin and Jemima to extra classes.
Anyway, yes, Black Plastic. Awesomeness, to the extent that it even bled into the nightbus and made it a really jolly nightbus with Mamas and Papas singalongs and a man who said I looked like Paul Morley, which I can't say I'm 100% happy with but it at least gives me an excuse to extemporise Morley pastiches about buses, my face &c.
edit: And I forgot about the Acton Tubewalk! There was a prison and model aircraft and the Grand Union Canal where I poked a coconut with my umbrella.
Much discussion on the friendslist lately of cyclists who jump lights. Which plenty of them do, but I'm always more bothered by the cars and vans and trucks which do likewise. OK, they seldom come up to a light which is already red and then sail through as some two-wheelers seem to feel is their right, but counting an amber or even a new red as somehow not applicable, I see a lot of that. Often, I stare 'em down and walk through, subject to my assessment of just how much of a w@nker they are. Yesterday, I saw a woman who I don't think was doing that, but was walking across a pelican in Highgate Village, holding a baby, as the lights for traffic went red. And one man was in such a hurry to get wherever it was he was going that he damn near flattened the pair of them. Fortunately, some other passers by got his number. Unfortunately, even if that does go anywhere he's clearly not going to get the punishment he deserves of a five year driving ban at the very least.
I was as glad as anyone when I heard that BBC3's supernatural house-share tale Being Human was getting a full series - except much of what I liked about the pilot was the chemistry, and they've changed two thirds of the cast. They swap the ghost out for Sugar? Fine by me. If they'd lost Russell Tovey as the werewolf, I could have lived with that; instead, he stayed but now that he's more famous as a Young Gay Actor, he seems to feel obliged to be shriller. What I cannot fathom is that they lost that perfect, perfect Mitchell and brought in a generic vampire at precisely the time when any new screen vampire most needs to distinguish himself from the herd.
2009 has already brought two more disappointing albums from Bruce Springsteen, whose latest is one of those disappointingly lumpen efforts he seems to produce from time to time, and White Lies. I really enjoyed 'Death' in spite of suspecting there wasn't much to it; at album length that hollowness becomes inescapable, and horrible. After aforementioned let-downs, this is not shaping up to be a vintage year for music.
Anyway, yes, Black Plastic. Awesomeness, to the extent that it even bled into the nightbus and made it a really jolly nightbus with Mamas and Papas singalongs and a man who said I looked like Paul Morley, which I can't say I'm 100% happy with but it at least gives me an excuse to extemporise Morley pastiches about buses, my face &c.
edit: And I forgot about the Acton Tubewalk! There was a prison and model aircraft and the Grand Union Canal where I poked a coconut with my umbrella.
Much discussion on the friendslist lately of cyclists who jump lights. Which plenty of them do, but I'm always more bothered by the cars and vans and trucks which do likewise. OK, they seldom come up to a light which is already red and then sail through as some two-wheelers seem to feel is their right, but counting an amber or even a new red as somehow not applicable, I see a lot of that. Often, I stare 'em down and walk through, subject to my assessment of just how much of a w@nker they are. Yesterday, I saw a woman who I don't think was doing that, but was walking across a pelican in Highgate Village, holding a baby, as the lights for traffic went red. And one man was in such a hurry to get wherever it was he was going that he damn near flattened the pair of them. Fortunately, some other passers by got his number. Unfortunately, even if that does go anywhere he's clearly not going to get the punishment he deserves of a five year driving ban at the very least.
I was as glad as anyone when I heard that BBC3's supernatural house-share tale Being Human was getting a full series - except much of what I liked about the pilot was the chemistry, and they've changed two thirds of the cast. They swap the ghost out for Sugar? Fine by me. If they'd lost Russell Tovey as the werewolf, I could have lived with that; instead, he stayed but now that he's more famous as a Young Gay Actor, he seems to feel obliged to be shriller. What I cannot fathom is that they lost that perfect, perfect Mitchell and brought in a generic vampire at precisely the time when any new screen vampire most needs to distinguish himself from the herd.
2009 has already brought two more disappointing albums from Bruce Springsteen, whose latest is one of those disappointingly lumpen efforts he seems to produce from time to time, and White Lies. I really enjoyed 'Death' in spite of suspecting there wasn't much to it; at album length that hollowness becomes inescapable, and horrible. After aforementioned let-downs, this is not shaping up to be a vintage year for music.
