View From The Fen With Pete UM   Leave a comment

Seem to have got another year older today. Truly, time is a fucked thing. To think some some people live to be 99. I was thinking the other day about my childhood, and of being at Primary School in Guildford, and I managed to tune in to the atmosphere of the time like an amateur Proust, and it just felt so weird and so long ago that it might as well have happened to somebody else. Even perfectly normal memories seem to take place in this endless corridor of sadness. Am I moaning? I’ll cease. It’s my birthday after all.
Tonight I did plan to use my special privileges to get me to The Queen’s Head in Newton (a personal recommendation from an experienced pub-goer) and rinse out my old man’s sorrows with Broadside, of which they do the best drop outside of Southwold, but the usual complications associated with parental responsibility are making it look unlikely. Shit. I’m still moaning, but now in the style of Michael Jeacock.
So, did everybody notice I did THREE gigs in London the other week? The one at the 12 Bar was better than the one at The Buffalo Bar, but the one that got tacked on at the end at short notice at The Art’s Café was the best of all of the THREE. Got on the train at Cambridge feeling jaded, tired and weirded-out but arrived at the venue with the sense of equanimity that only a substantial amount of liquor can produce. Being in rock, as I am, you end up playing in a lot of black cuboids situated underground, but the Art’s café is a square room with large windows and a very high ceiling, which makes for a nice friendly open atmosphere. Some guy, perhaps the chef, was making proper pizzas and they must have been good because everyone seemed to be eating them. The promoter offered me a drink and I accepted with a mischievous yet rueful laugh. Then Scout Niblett, who I was supporting, introduced herself. I didn’t know anything about her, because I’m an idiot, but apparently she lives in Indiana or somewhere and hangs out with Songs: Ohia matey, but she’s from Nottingham originally. She’s really cool, and her show was fucking ace, especially the bit where she just plays drums and sings. Go and see her play with Smog and The Hot Chip on the 7th May (is that right?). I wish I’d bought her record.
I had a good gig. Place was packed out, and I think it was seven quid on the door. Only problem was that there was an abstract nude on the wall behind the stage, and I tried to do an abstract fondle of the woman’s bits at one point for a cheap laugh, so that was the memory that had me wincing in the hungover morning. I sold a few CDs (one to the soundman, always a good sign) but I could have sold the lot if the room wasn’t so packed you literally couldn’t move, or if I could have hung around at the end. Met some nice people. Sorted me out again. Huzzah.

Posted April 28, 2003 by peteum2013 in Uncategorized

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