The weekend flew past in a blaze of feeling slightly flu ridden and completely knackered.
Friday was spent at the curzon to see two short films – Artrocker and Rocklands. The ‘trocker one was made by Robert marshall and was a doting gaze upon Paul and Tom’s accomplishments with the club, the record label and whatnot. It didn’t bring up anything particularly interesting, but it did give me the feeling of being part of something special in London. The heart of my ‘trocker card in my wallet was beating very hard. Sarah from the rocks came off very well in it, all the rocks footage was of her looking very pretty and with james dancing around like a maniac in the background somewhere. I think the cameraman was a little obsessed with her boobs though.
Rocklands was the weaker of the two, a tale of new cross about 18 months ago, dircted by ben and chris blaine. It was little more than a few interviews with bands outside the paradise bar all drunkenly slurring “yeah, it’s a great venue, I like the bands that play here”. It also had tonnes of footage of caffy st luce in a really bad hat proclaiming it to be more than just a great venue. I respect her hugely, and she’s such an important lady, but the film would have benefited more from some other opinions and voices. The film’s emphasis was placed on the catch up game that England had to play after the success of the strokes, something that unnerved me a little. Id always hoped that the great bands that are around at the moment were spawned from influences outside of 2002 America. One of the main downfalls of the film however, was the lack of live sound to accompany the gig footage. It just didn’t seem the same with studio sounds.
Saturday was spent at work again, being vaguely impressed by the new Idlewild album and vaguely disappointed by the J-Lo album. A really good home made risotto later and a kilo of vodka, when mr swish came round before frog I was less than convent sober. Somehow I made it to frog, even lasting til at least 3 I think, before leaving. I don’t remember getting home, a phenomenon that’s been hitting me only recently in my old age. Until this year I never had booze induced memory black outs, it scares me a little.
Another new phenomenon in my life is seeing lj friends in the real world. Saw Nessaloon on the bus to frog and I think maybe melithing in the loos at trocker a few weeks back. I never know what to say, shouting “I know you on lj” is never really a great conversation opener.
Sunday and Monday were spent watching tv, lounging about and making rice crispie cakes.
Very productive. No gigs until the crawl on Thursday, so this weeks popstar feets make be a little sparse, but I plan to make up for it after the crawl. Friday should hopefully be spent watching Charlie busted dj at 333. yum yum yum.