Ariel Pink at The Pot Black Snooker Club, BSE.   Leave a comment

So, Ariel Pink and the gang were short of a gig and a place to stay on the day after the Cambridge show, and a little energy was expended trying to sort this out. At one point we were in negotiations to see whether they might be added to the bill of the last ever Planet Beet in Bury St Edmunds, where I was due to play on the night in question. This didn’t happen, but they did stay at Phil’s, and they did come to the gig. I will have to keep this very short, because it reflects badly enough on me as it is, but believe me I could go on and bloody on.

Suffice to say that I’m a bit of a fanboy when it comes to Ariel’s music, and I struggled therefore to come to terms with the fact that, by staying at Phil’s (who was honour-bound to drive me to Bury, for some reason) Ariel and his perpetually groovy mates were obliged to travel deep into Suffolk to see an Um gig. There are various factors at play here, but the dominant one is that I was worrying that I might appear self-conscious, i.e. shit. Here we enter familiar vortex territory, as worrying about being self-conscious is hardly a relaxing activity. Obviously BSE is no place to be self-conscious either, as it is one of the last places in England where you can still see people having fun. Anyway the long and short of it is I found myself staring at a row of drunk and up-for-it teenagers in the foreground whilst keeping half an eye on the small knot of cynically cool LA degenerates off to one side at the back, whilst trying to do a song and dance act. It was like doing two gigs at once, and I think it looked a bit shit.

Talking of up-for-it teenagers, Nick the bass player started talking to me before I went on about the problems he has with commitment, and though I didn’t really understand what he was driving at at the time, it soon became clearer. Apparently he only had to mention that he was from Los Angeles and that he was leaving the next day and he was having a John Hurt/alien interface with some young woman. And not just the once either.

Then Phil drove us all back to mine and we got wasted and dissed The Who. Ariel decided he wanted to check out my tape collection, which grieved me a bit because although my records range from the sublimely stupid to the ridiculously hip my tape collection goes back to the early 80s. Ariel also managed to knock down the precariously balanced pile of tapes, and I’m afraid I couldn’t resist capturing the spectacle of him sat amongst a pile of cassettes, all Depeche Mode and Billy Idol and shit. Therefore I have about five seconds of shit video footage of Ariel Pink in my room, almost totally obscured by shadow.

Posted July 14, 2006 by peteum2013 in Uncategorized

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