Bollocks, bollocks, bollocks.
I am not in a particularly good mood. Work sucks, non-work sucks, and not much doesn't fit those two categories. On the offchance that something does, I'll assume it sucks too. I'm tired, I'm hungover, wrecked, wired, I've got that much angst you could call me Dawson Leary. Top Bloke.
If I wasn't lost in music, I'd be lost. I went to see Doves last night with girl x - and a bunch of randoms who I didn't even know where going to be there. My, oh my, they were incredible. Mind you, I was a pretty easy audience by then, though. Turned up, waltzed in to the Guildhall without anyone seeming too concerned about whether I had a ticket or not - for the record, I'm a good citizen, so of course I did - and noticed a band looking suspiciously like The Delgados entering, stage left. Yikes! Didn't even know they were playing. Love them, never seen them live until last night. And they were, of course, fantastic. I drifted, trancelike, from my friends, to savour the moment in the peace and tranquility of my own head. Surprisingly, the gaggle I was with all agreed that the Delgados were indeed mighty and to be cherished.
If you haven't heard them, or of them, buy The Great Eastern, buy Peloton, buy Hate, and enjoy. They have melody, they have noise, they have strings, male/female duets. And they're smart, arch, clever. When a band writes a song called Hate is all you need, how could you resist them?
So - on a high by the time Doves came on, and they could have played a Chris de Burgh tribute set and I probably wouldn't have minded (as long as they played Patricia the stripper). They didn't though, choosing instead to show a silent short that film school grads only could have comprehended, before launching into a feedback-soaked, far too loud, Doves set. The weird thing is, their more cerebral numbers like The Last Broadcast, and The Man Who Told Everything exploded into noisy beauty, filling the venue, while the kind of songs I'd thought would be unbeatable live (Pounding, There goes the fear, Catch the sun) got a bit lost in all the fuzz. I'm not complaining though, even if girl x wasn't loving it quite enough.
I'll tell you this about girl x, though. She's wonderful. Unfortunately, she likes someone else just as much as I like her. Perhaps it will be good, though, just for once, to have a good female friend I don't end up getting too involved with.
Because as we all know, true madness that way lies.
And I still haven't had any offers from any rebound-fetishists. Where are you all, goddammit?
Ciao, amigos. theboy is off to skulk around the office for a while, and may even do some work, before heading off to the big smoke to meet an old chum he hasn't seen for years, see some blinds (apparently this is exciting), and have fun with a Dutch woman.
(she's a friend, by the way. I don't have to pay to see her.)