Sunday, March 25, 2007

Doing My Own Head In

I haven't left the house for almost one whole week. Oh, actually that's a lie. I was out of the house briefly on Thursday to pop to the doctor's to ask him if he could stop the constant flood of blood that is coming from the back of my throat.

I had my tonsils out on Monday, you see. But I won't go on about that. Okay, I will a bit. Because it was really fucking painful. Seriously, I expected *some* pain and *some* blood, but the reality was much harsher. And the agony of eating toast a couple of hours after surgery will stay with me forever. Silent tears slid down my face as I feebly picked at a corner of the slice with my teeth while the nurse watched over me with her "you're not going home until you've eaten it" face.

I don't remember the last time I only had myself for company for so long. With everyone else out of the house during the day and only the internet, the telly and my two dogs to keep me sane I've spent a lot of time doing pointless tasks just to fill up another unit of time until someone comes home and talks to me with an actual voice.

I like pointless tasks. Really, I do. I like going through the motions of emptying all my drawers and then putting everything back in them again. But the other day I found myself rearranging my mum's spice rack whilst waiting for the kettle to boil in order of usage. At first, it really was just something to do while the kettle boiled. But then it became so much more than that and all the spice pots had to be taken out of the rack and lined up on the counter. I took a butter knife from the drawer and bent down so my eyes were level with the pots. Then I spent over half an hour using the knife as a straight edge to determine which pot had more than what pot left inside. Over half an hour. Measuring cinnamon. And I had to boil the kettle all over again. Which got me all annoyed. At myself. For wasting my own time. Even though I have nothing else to do. And this is how I've been all week. I can't even take my annoyance out, unfairly, on someone else because there is no one else during the day.

Today is the first day I woke up and didn't feel like I had a seven inch blade wedged in the back of my throat, so I got up, had a bath and put on proper clothes. Not pj's and an old comfort cardi. Jeans and a jumper. And now I'm going to walk the dog. For quite a long time. Like, an hour. Maybe. Getting out of the house is Best Idea, I think.

Monday, March 5, 2007

The Turncoat, The Little Ones and Jamie T


According to their MySpace page, The Turncoat hail from Wimbledon. This is the most interesting thing about them. Seriously. Their songs seem to have no choruses and from what I could gather were all about drugs. Whoopdidoo. Yet more songs about drugs! Although kudos to them for using a didgeridoo during one song. Oh, and the long haired guitarist was pretty cute.

The whole time they were on I did have a niggling feeling that I was missing something, as the fourteen year old kids around me knew all the words to the songs and were going crazy for the band's take on Walking In Memphis, Walking In Chelsea. Hmmm.

The Little Ones I liked. Fun, poppy songs with catchy tunes. Plus, they all looked genuinely pleased to be on stage for us with the whole band sharing massive grins throughout their set. And, after listening to their MySpace songs, I can honestly say they are miles upon miles better live. Their energy is brilliant to watch and the only thing that put a damper on things were the sixth form try harders stood next to me who insisted on analzying every song with pointless remarks like "ooh, this is just the kind of song you'd play in the summer whilst making pancakes!". What? I mean, really, what? What does that even mean? Making pancakes in the summer? Who the fuck even makes pancakes in the summer? Just fuck off you runt. Fuck off and stop ruining my night. Then came the "ohmygod! They have totally stolen this rift from..." gaaaaah. Shut up, go home, get out of my FACE. What is it with kids these days that they can't just enjoy music without proving to their peers how superior their musical knowledge is to eveyone elses?

And then the man of the night appeared at bang on 9:30pm. Being so close to the metal railing that seperates crowd from stage, I was suddenly thrust forward and crushed to fuck by the overexcited children who were desperate to be living the indie scene dream and create utter chaos amongst the crowd. We were pushed to the left, to the right, forward, backwards...at one point I was standing on one tip toe and being held up by everyone around me. Two nine year olds (really) were jumping up and down and hitting me in the head with their elbows, a very young boy had his groin pressed up against my bottom and then Jamie T threw a can of Fosters all over me. Hurrah! I lasted like this for three songs. Then I couldn't take anymore. I was sweating, covered in beer, being pushed and pulled in all directions and beaten up rowdy teenagers who were preventing me from enjoying the live act. So I made my friend stand on the stairs by the bar where we watched with perfect view and no pain.

Now, Jamie T himself was bloody brilliant. He didn't keep us waiting, he thanked us for being there and humbly introduced himself to the crowd before ripping into the first song. Having known friends who have seen Jamie T on previous tours, this one was not a case of just him and a guitar perched on a stool. He had a full band behind him and songs such as Salavdor were condensed into 90 second (approx - I'm just guessing here but it was no way album verion length) stunners.

Ed Larrikin joined Jamie on stage for the final song, Sheila, and spent the whole time prancing around the stage with an umberella. The tit.

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