Bull's blood for baby Jesus
Oct. 23rd, 2003 10:20 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ventaA late review...
I don't like buses. Or at least, I don't like using buses in unfamiliar places.
Earlier this week, I was sitting on a train rattling towards Paddington when I got a text message from ChrisC warning me that the Northern Line was out of action. Which, since I was ultimately aiming to meet him in Camden Town, wasn't ideal. He suggested getting a tube to Euston Square, and sms'd me directions to walk from there to Camden.
Arriving at Paddington, I asked one of the staff my best course of action - number 27 bus, they said. Hey, I thought, this person is a transport official, they probably know what they're talking about, so headed out and hopped on a 27. It said, among its list of destinations, Camden Town. I took this as a good sign.
It went v-e-r-y s-l-o-o-o-wly through the gridlocked traffic, eventually arriving at the next stop. The driver dipped the lights a few times, and, in dribs and drabs, people got off. Eventually, the one other person left headed on down to the door, muttered something to the driver which appeared to be about terminating, and got off. Never slow to take a hint I ambled down to the driver, and the following conversation ensued:
<me>: Did you say you were terminating here ?
<driver>: <mumbles something which, behind his little perspex screen, is inaudible>
<me>: I'm sorry ?
<driver>: <shouts> Look, just get off the bus, will you?
I did.
And another 27 happened along, and I got on it, and nearly half an hour later we were still stationary on bloody Edgware Road.
Many weeks later, we got to Mornington Crescent. And this is why I hate buses - I'm not desperately familiar with Camden, I wouldn't guarantee to recognise it unless he drove directly past The Underworld or something, and I don't know where the bus stops are. I jumped ship (bus?) at Mornington Crescent since it was at least vaguely familiar, and, I believed, reasonably close.
Then I had a crisis of confidence, and stopped to ask a passing brace of policepeople. Could they confirm I was heading in the right direction to get to The World's End ? "Ooooh," said one of them. "That's in Camden", in the sort of tone of voice you might use if saying "that's in Outer Mongolia".
I was, of course, only a few minutes from it, however, and eventually made it. Should have known a train leaving Reading directly after I got there was too good to be true :)
After a very pleasant meal in the Camden Kitchen, we made it up to the Barfly - pub, venue, and possessor of the most staggeringly uncomfortable seats I've ever met. We were there to see Silver Sun, who, as far as I can tell, no one has seen hide nor hair of since about 1998. And two supports I'd never heard of.
Cracatilla provided some nicely inoffensive laid-back guitar-led stuff for a while. Quite pleasant, and I enjoyed it, but I don't think it's liable to change my world radically. The singer looked remarkably like Badly Drawn Boy, but we decided on reflection it was just the woolly hat.
Maria Wilson was a bit of a surprise, being an extremely ornamental blonde with a four piece backing group. We think she was aiming to be Avril Lavigne (despite having Britney Spears' hair) - but whatever she was aiming for she persistently missed it. Everything she did appeared to be one step removed - she gave the impression that she was really trying to put feeling into her words (rather than actually doing it), and she might have been a lot sexier if she'd dropped the clichéd rock-chick moves.
Silver Sun eventually rolled on, and played what seemed to be a remarkably short set. They trotted out a reasonable selection of singles, album tracks and new songs, but I'm not sure... somehow, I think I was hoping for a bit more. I'm not sure of what - I enjoyed their set, I bounced up and down a bit. Maybe I was just left confused by their odd choice of encores - little known songs with no obvious chorus, or, really, defining features at all.
But they still do what they do well. That is, have jangly guitars, Beach Boys-esque harmonies, and lyrics which make absolutely no sense whatsoever. I dunno if this was a one-off or a comeback attempt... I wouldn't really expect the latter to succeed, but I'd like to see them try. The world needs more songs like that.
(The singer bravely kept up the night's trend of trying to look like someone else by appearing to be wearing Jarvis Cocker's glasses).
I don't like buses. Or at least, I don't like using buses in unfamiliar places.
Earlier this week, I was sitting on a train rattling towards Paddington when I got a text message from ChrisC warning me that the Northern Line was out of action. Which, since I was ultimately aiming to meet him in Camden Town, wasn't ideal. He suggested getting a tube to Euston Square, and sms'd me directions to walk from there to Camden.
Arriving at Paddington, I asked one of the staff my best course of action - number 27 bus, they said. Hey, I thought, this person is a transport official, they probably know what they're talking about, so headed out and hopped on a 27. It said, among its list of destinations, Camden Town. I took this as a good sign.
It went v-e-r-y s-l-o-o-o-wly through the gridlocked traffic, eventually arriving at the next stop. The driver dipped the lights a few times, and, in dribs and drabs, people got off. Eventually, the one other person left headed on down to the door, muttered something to the driver which appeared to be about terminating, and got off. Never slow to take a hint I ambled down to the driver, and the following conversation ensued:
<me>: Did you say you were terminating here ?
<driver>: <mumbles something which, behind his little perspex screen, is inaudible>
<me>: I'm sorry ?
<driver>: <shouts> Look, just get off the bus, will you?
I did.
And another 27 happened along, and I got on it, and nearly half an hour later we were still stationary on bloody Edgware Road.
Many weeks later, we got to Mornington Crescent. And this is why I hate buses - I'm not desperately familiar with Camden, I wouldn't guarantee to recognise it unless he drove directly past The Underworld or something, and I don't know where the bus stops are. I jumped ship (bus?) at Mornington Crescent since it was at least vaguely familiar, and, I believed, reasonably close.
Then I had a crisis of confidence, and stopped to ask a passing brace of policepeople. Could they confirm I was heading in the right direction to get to The World's End ? "Ooooh," said one of them. "That's in Camden", in the sort of tone of voice you might use if saying "that's in Outer Mongolia".
I was, of course, only a few minutes from it, however, and eventually made it. Should have known a train leaving Reading directly after I got there was too good to be true :)
After a very pleasant meal in the Camden Kitchen, we made it up to the Barfly - pub, venue, and possessor of the most staggeringly uncomfortable seats I've ever met. We were there to see Silver Sun, who, as far as I can tell, no one has seen hide nor hair of since about 1998. And two supports I'd never heard of.
Cracatilla provided some nicely inoffensive laid-back guitar-led stuff for a while. Quite pleasant, and I enjoyed it, but I don't think it's liable to change my world radically. The singer looked remarkably like Badly Drawn Boy, but we decided on reflection it was just the woolly hat.
Maria Wilson was a bit of a surprise, being an extremely ornamental blonde with a four piece backing group. We think she was aiming to be Avril Lavigne (despite having Britney Spears' hair) - but whatever she was aiming for she persistently missed it. Everything she did appeared to be one step removed - she gave the impression that she was really trying to put feeling into her words (rather than actually doing it), and she might have been a lot sexier if she'd dropped the clichéd rock-chick moves.
Silver Sun eventually rolled on, and played what seemed to be a remarkably short set. They trotted out a reasonable selection of singles, album tracks and new songs, but I'm not sure... somehow, I think I was hoping for a bit more. I'm not sure of what - I enjoyed their set, I bounced up and down a bit. Maybe I was just left confused by their odd choice of encores - little known songs with no obvious chorus, or, really, defining features at all.
But they still do what they do well. That is, have jangly guitars, Beach Boys-esque harmonies, and lyrics which make absolutely no sense whatsoever. I dunno if this was a one-off or a comeback attempt... I wouldn't really expect the latter to succeed, but I'd like to see them try. The world needs more songs like that.
(The singer bravely kept up the night's trend of trying to look like someone else by appearing to be wearing Jarvis Cocker's glasses).
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no subject
Date: 2003-10-23 03:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-10-23 03:13 am (UTC)However, I stopped grumbling too much about London Transport after I'd been to New York and met the subway staff/taxi drivers there. They're not just unheplful and surly, but actively obstructive.