For not only did Clapham Common play host yesterday to the likes of Happy Mondays, Flowered Up (Lord above), The Farm (Why, God, why? They were bad enough the first time round) and the Stereo MCs (whom I once saw in Bristol supporting EMF, early 90s fact fans), but I also seem to have returned to my student days and bought a poster.
A poster! I haven't bought a poster in years. The last one I bought probably featured REM (Out Of Time-era) or the Sisters of Mercy (Vision Thing-era). Why, I don't know - the last thing you want to see when you wake up in your sordid second-year bedsit with a raging hangover and a bloke you don't recognise taking up 90% of the available space in your single bed is Peter Buck's ugly mug staring down at you. But I was young then and clearly didn't know any better.
Anyway, I'm pleased to record that yesterday's purchase was in much better taste: look, it's a lovely promotional poster for Amélie, in Japanese. This is going to look super - if a mite pretentious - above my fireplace, where it will complement my oft-mentioned tasty red leather sofa. Although on reflection it may cause me perpetual regret, not to mention bilious envy, that I'm nowhere near as pretty as Audrey Tautou. Or as gamine. Or as youthful. Still, I could comfort myself with the fact that she probably never saw Nirvana play live while Kurt Cobain was still with us. Yeah. In your face, Audrey!
* More like fourteen, argh.
18 comments:
Not often enough, Pash, that's for sure. I hope it was "Temple of Love".
Haha, yes! I must say the Nick Cave gig (I'll shut up about that soon) featured a lot of the sort of goth dancing I hadn't witnessed in years.
they must have been old-school goths then. the new breed just sit around looking faintly worried (presumably about their maths homework, or whether it's swimming on thursday, or something).
Well. Greetings - hope you don't mind me popping by (via Mr Lupin) your blog and having a nose around. Seems rather good, actually, so if you allow repeat visitors then I'll be back...
PS I bet Audrey Tautou never saw Nirvana's first ever UK gig in a sweaty pub in Bristol with 20 other teenagers, none of whom could afford the £10 for the dodgy CD of some album featuring a swimming naked baby. How much would that be worth now, I often muse? And I'd wager that Ms Tautou doesn't have one either...
Oo, hello Merkin. With nice compliments like that you're welcome to pop by any time.
And you definitely win hands down at the Nirvana Challenge. Well played!
that's brilliant. there's something a bit cringy about the guardian saying "chavs and goths". a bit like your dad saying your new nirvana cd is "wicked"...
Ah, good morning Kalista. This dancing was more like a sort of full-body seizure (like when a wet dog shakes itself from nose to tail), with some arm-waving thrown in for good measure.
I have a terrible feeling that I am one of those 38 year old ex-goths whereof you speak. (And if I'm not, I feel like one.)
And if I recall correctly, it was their dislike of getting into teams that did for the poor Neanderthals, who liked nothing better than roaming the mountainsides by themselves, plucking at pretty flowers and marvelling at the fluffy clouds, before being set upon and annihilated by packs of rampaging homo sapiens. Poor old Neanderthals. They're second only to the Picts in my (pre-)historical affections.
Ah, no, the transition from goth to raver was quite abrupt, but this was (ahem) quite a few years ago now. I was never really a goth, more of an indie kid, so it wasn't all that painful a transition. And then there was a gradual evolution (or should that be decline?) from raver to clubber to ex-clubber to Stepford Wife.
And now...the mid-life crisis! Oh, it's been a rollercoaster ride through the world of the ego and the id, alright. What a lot you have to look forward to, Kalista.
For me it all started to go wrong when I reached 27 - so you've got a few years yet, Kalista. Enjoy them while they last. Don't know about your post indie conundrum - it seems to me that whenever everything seems stayed and derivative and past seems like the best place to be some incredible new music revolution turns up completely out of the blue. Christ knows what is going to be.
Oh Lord, it is really only 36 days? Somehow I think you'll be having more birthday fun than I will, Lauren!
ah, the status-quo shoulder dip, also know (in biker circles) as the flying eagle. i once spent a whole night at a bike rally doing the flying eagle with a very short man.
can we stop with the i'm-nearly-eighteen thing? it's making me feel positively ancient.
Ohhh, the poor Neanderthals. Boo to us, indeed. Apparently they had squeaky little voices too. Awww.
Very sad indeed. They were a lot more clever than us too. By the brain size you can tell their average IQ would have been about 160. And they liked picking flowers. We truly are a bunch of cunts.
Ugly mother fuckers though...
Hello. I have nothing at all to say about Goths. Never did have, never will have. But can I just ask that you you tell me the precise date of aforementioned birthdays as I've no idea from which date to count forward 36 days. Not that you or Lauren should expect anything but I like to put things in my diary so it looks like I have friends.
cello! Welcome back - you've been very much missed! I don't think that Lauren will mind me broadcasting the fact that our birthdays both fall on the 7th Oct.
I could try being coy about my age (it's about time, after all), but sadly my Profile gives it away.
Yes, I've heard these Tom Vek gigs can turn ugly. I'd better take my Hello Kitty handgun with me when I see him next Sat.
I'd love to go and see British Sea Power for you Kalista, but I'm only going for the Saturday and they're playing on Friday. But I do get to see St Etienne, Tom Vek, Ulrich Schnauss (a big favourite of nibus's) and Finland's finest export Husky Rescue, which should be quite enough for anyone.
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