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Tony Hart too? That's far too many pillars of the national identity toppled in one week. Enough now, please, Mr Reaper, before Ray Davies or Stephen Fry is next.
All the walking for which I now have time and inclination has coincided, unfortunately, with some new boots which are still being worn in, and after Wednesday's excursions, I ended up with rather sore feet. No matter; all it changed on Thursday was that I Tubed from South Ken to Victoria, and since this gave me more reading time later, no harm done. Dead Letter Office is not really a dancey evening, though it's a thing of wonder to hear Subcircus' '86'd' in public in 2008; even during what passed for their heyday it was hardly a club hit. Similarly with The Vapour Trail; I was mainly there for the bands and left before the dancing got started, though it was great to hear non-obvious Cure tracks and 'Lagartija Nick', and the latter would surely have had me on the floor later. So after all this, I'm on the road to recovery and wondering where would be good for a gentle stroll on Sunday.
Except that the bus to Gloomy turfed us all out at Highbury Corner - and isn't that a vastly more annoying experience when you're on pre-pay? And the buses back from Gloomy just couldn't be bothered to exist at all. And in the three or four hours in between, there's a lot of Belle & Sebastian and a lot of other good stuff. There's (some of) you, there's me, and there's dancing. Consequently, today I am hobbling like a late period Peter Cushing. Well, I guess it's a good excuse to stay still and finish The Worm Ouroboros. Yes, I will read it, for all that it's starting to get a bit much. I will not press on with BSG*, nor with Cowboy Bebop to which I have finally been introduced a mere five years or so after the V were all raving about it. No.
*To repeat a point made elsewhere, anyone who spoilers me on the Final Five, much less the Final Cylon, is going to have their own intimate encounter with a toaster.
All the walking for which I now have time and inclination has coincided, unfortunately, with some new boots which are still being worn in, and after Wednesday's excursions, I ended up with rather sore feet. No matter; all it changed on Thursday was that I Tubed from South Ken to Victoria, and since this gave me more reading time later, no harm done. Dead Letter Office is not really a dancey evening, though it's a thing of wonder to hear Subcircus' '86'd' in public in 2008; even during what passed for their heyday it was hardly a club hit. Similarly with The Vapour Trail; I was mainly there for the bands and left before the dancing got started, though it was great to hear non-obvious Cure tracks and 'Lagartija Nick', and the latter would surely have had me on the floor later. So after all this, I'm on the road to recovery and wondering where would be good for a gentle stroll on Sunday.
Except that the bus to Gloomy turfed us all out at Highbury Corner - and isn't that a vastly more annoying experience when you're on pre-pay? And the buses back from Gloomy just couldn't be bothered to exist at all. And in the three or four hours in between, there's a lot of Belle & Sebastian and a lot of other good stuff. There's (some of) you, there's me, and there's dancing. Consequently, today I am hobbling like a late period Peter Cushing. Well, I guess it's a good excuse to stay still and finish The Worm Ouroboros. Yes, I will read it, for all that it's starting to get a bit much. I will not press on with BSG*, nor with Cowboy Bebop to which I have finally been introduced a mere five years or so after the V were all raving about it. No.
*To repeat a point made elsewhere, anyone who spoilers me on the Final Five, much less the Final Cylon, is going to have their own intimate encounter with a toaster.
