overlap

It would be remiss of me not to mention the passing of Alan 'Fluff' Freeman - my childhood musical memories are predominantly of Sir Jim'll Savile doing Jimmy Savile's Old Record Club on the radio, which was the replacement show for Fluff's Pick Of The Pops, so I mostly remember Fluff for the Rock Show on Radio 1 in the early 1990s. That was a particularly interesting period in my life, and not really the good kind of interesting, so it's with great fondness I'm reminded that in one of the many boxes upstairs there is a tape of one of those editions of The Rock Show, in which he read out a letter I'd sent in asking for one of a couple of different songs I requested, one of which he went on to play. The few words he said in additional comment in response to the letter were exactly the sort of thing that all the obituaries describe in terms of a humanity and warmth - he didn't know that I was listening, but for those brief few moments he couldn't have been more genuinely talking to me if he'd been in the room. And for that I say thanks mate, not 'arf.

This evening I went to see Richard Hawley, in a not widely publicised free show. I'm not a particular fan, but he has come to my attention and people I know have been impressed, and anyway, a free show's a free show and it's a long time since I was in a proper recording show. Lest I give the wrong impression, I'm anything but on the inside of any aspect of the music industry, I'm just a very keen consumer who's been at it long enough to see most things. Which is one reason why despite having been listening to the Hawley albums for the last few weeks ever since this gig came up, it's nice to walk away from a show with someone new to be particularly interested in. It's also nice to walk away after studio quality sound, and at a volume level just loud enough to be impressive without damaging the hearing or distorting the music. I enjoyed it a lot, and got to play with various camera settings that I'm still not quite used to too. Top night out!

It's been a little while since my last drunken post in this vein, so I'm going to stick to a list before the white wine completely interrupts my typing ability. * nail varnish in Dior shade 580 * Boots No7 Intelligent Foundation in Light * MAC eyebrow pencil in Fling * MAC eyeshadow in Grain and All That Glitters * Boots No7 blusher in Passionate Pink * Clinique Naturally Glossy mascara in Jet Brown (yes, I know!) * Boots No7 Sheer Temptation lipstick in Attract * all packed away in my handbag which is very nearly the same colour as my nails * raspberry/glitter coloured top * black/glitter tie front cardigan * dusky pink knee length skirt * knee high black boots It occurs to me to mention what difference it makes to post about this - as with having make up and clothes around the house as a matter of course, it matters in that it makes it all a real thing that occurs in the real world rather than some guilty, hidden secret which must be locked back in its box at the earliest opportunity. And for that alone, I'm grateful to be able to share this with anyone who happens along - I have got quite a bit done today, and I figure an evening of self-indulgence is well earned!

For me, holiday allowance from work is generally used to ram as much into the time as possible, often in half days to drive across the country to see some band, or some other activity-focused pursuit. This summer I didn't go away anywhere for more than a few days, so I have a little more holiday to play with than I otherwise might. And that's how I've come to have a three day weekend for the sake of nothing more than being around the house and taking care of some domestic business that's remained undone for far too long. So far I have caught up on a couple of extra hours of much-needed sleep, taken my dead computer monitor to the tip, done some shopping and made significant progress working on two different bikes. Until the work on both bikes is complete and they are re-assembled, it's not going to look like I've got very far, but it's definitely a start.

So, a remarkably quiet gig, two support acts, the first of which was a guy on his own who reminded me a little of Hawksley Workman in terms of differentness. You've got to love someone who does a gig in a red indian head-dress and with a Captain America shield on one arm. And whose set is done on four microphones set up facing each other, so it's 90 degree turns from one mike to the next. Boo had him help out on backing vocals for the encore, which is always a gamble for someone who obviously doesn't know the song. The second support, a Wrexham band somewhere close to early Teenage Fanclub with absolutely no styling pretensions. If this is their Bandwagonesque phase and they tone down the vocal influences of Kelly Stereophonic and one or two other things and up the harmony and melody a touch, they could turn out to be fantastic. Of course a band called 'Camera' is inviting confusion with the Obscura bunch. Boo was only watched by 50 people at the start, and about 30 were left by the end after a few had disappeared. I don't know if it was the sunshine at Guilfest that had brightened him up earlier this year, but he was much more your understatedly grim Scotchman this time around. Though of course a festival hits set is always going to be slightly different to someone doing their own thing. You can see how telling the story of 'I played this song on Wogan, you know' twenty-odd years on must get a little wearing. Nice mix of stuff I did and didn't know, decent enough gig but not quite earth-shattering genius.

So, a few days later than originally expected, I made the right time/place/gig and saw Boo Hewerdine do his solo acoustic thing. Last time our paths crossed it was in heat exhaustion threatening temperatures, this time he kept a woolly hat on throughout, but the songs didn't suffer from the chill, and a good time was had. More to follow when I'm not in need of getting to bed sooner rather than later.

This evening I was expecting to go and see Boo Hewerdine. If the name means nothing, you'll probably know at least one of his songs, and in most cases that's Patience Of Angels as done by Eddi Reader. Otherwise he's best described as being in the similar literate adult pop vein as Aztec Camera, Prefab Sprout and all that sort of thing, rather than the modern version of pop which appears to require little more than young women in beachwear with a dance routine. Imagine my surprise then, to turn up at the venue, wander inside and find a crowd where most of the people not working there were twenty years younger than me, or so it seemed. I kinew I was expecting a completely unknown support act, though all the same the one on stage when I got in was a bit lively, and finished after I'd been inside barely thirty seconds. So, a quick trip to the t-shirt seller at the back of the venue revealed a range of merchandising with band names that definitely were not on my agenda, and looking round every wall seemed to be covered with Kerrang! promotional material. Now, as has recently been mentioned, I am no stranger to Kerrang! and in fact I have a near complete ten year run of it spread across half a dozen boxes upstairs, but it was only when Stuart Cable appeared on stage to announce the next band and talk about what a great night it was, and how good it was of Kerrang! to put on a free gig that the pieces started to fall into place. And then I realised that one of the band names was ringing vague bells, and yes I was in the right place to see, among others, the current band of Charlie from Busted. And then I sort of understood the demographic of everyone stood around me, and the unexpectedly high proportion of young women therein. Having got home and eventually tracked down the news that despite the lack of advertising at the venue itself, Boo's gig is rescheduled for next week, so I've not missed out on that, I can report that Charlie from Busted rocks like Ben Fogle (no, I can't really picture it either), and that I'm really glad that I didn't choose tonight to pursue my longstanding hope of attending a gig en femme - even if within the sensibly mature Hewerdine audience it would still feel like a very bold step, as things turned out it would have been quite something else!

It appears to be that time of year when in the space of a couple of days, the remaining leaves give up on clinging to trees in favour of being a full carpet of browns and yellows on the ground. I've already been reminded of the risks in riding on wet leaves this year, so I don't really need another, but here's an action shot from my commute a couple of days ago, just in case. Saying that, this also means I gain a skyline out the back of my house for the next few months, and get to wrap up properly. I quite like the idea of fully settling into the season rather than the changeable neither one thing nor the other state where it's freezing one day and warm and rainy the next.

Now, here's a funny thing. Nineteen years ago, almost to the day, a very young me went to see a band I remain very fond of to this day, and due to the circumstances of the time, I had the cash to buy either the t-shirt or the ep that was on sale, but not both. I bought the t-shirt, partly because I thought that the record was something I was more likely to encounter further down the line, and not least because I knew it was being stocked by a particular small shop in London. Several weeks later I happened to be making a trip to London, and managed to stop by the shop in question, but perhaps predictably for such a small production run item, it had already sold out. There followed many years of keeping an eye out for the ep, and I finally tracked down a copy on ebay a couple of years ago. On its own, that's some stroke of luck - I'm sure there can not be all that many intact copies left, nearly twenty years later. By the miracles of the internet, a couple of years ago I got to know someone who I was surprised enough to find knew of the band in question, and in fact had been at a couple of the same shows at which I had seen them. Which is how I come to have been offered not just another copy of the ep, but one which was bought, and autographed by the band (one of whom is long dead), at the very show when I would have got my own copy had I been richer by a fiver or something. That sort of freaky combination of coincidences makes it feel like some sort of stroke of rock destiny completing a circuit. Or just me being incredibly fortunate. Either way, I love the internet!

This evening I got home and rushed straight out again to go to another meeting about a subject that's important to me, and on which I'd like to make whatever tiny difference I can, if I can make any. It never ceases to amaze me, though I should know better than to be surprised by now, just how some people with whom you think you have something in common can turn out to be people you'd perhaps not wish to align yourself with after all. I'm wise enough not to make rash decisions when I'm over-tired, and I'll sleep on it and see what rolls into my inbox in the next couple of days. But right now I'm wondering whether it's worth bothering with.

Last night I went to see a lecture by Alan Hinkes, on the subject of how he became the first Briton to climb all the 8,000m peaks. It's a staggering achievement, notably so as when he started on it only three people had ever done it, and eighteen years later he was still the thirteenth to complete it. I'm not a mountaineer, and was only ever a climber to a pretty basic level, but I have a certain understanding of wild places, and of the sort of epics and narrow escapes that may be encountered, so I have a little personal experience to add to the fact I'm better read in mountaineering literature than I might be. And it's some story - I hope he gets round to writing his book about it, as planned.