The End... A new beginning

Undeniably, we were a little rougher than we should have been. Undeniably, we were a little out of sorts, and undeniably, we're working out what works with regards to playing live. We're all on a fairly steep learning curve, and it's been a while....

That said, we kicked arse. And I couldn't be happier with how we sounded.

All of the stuff that happened in the set, all the mistakes made... that'll be just down to practice and lots of playing live. That's just what we have to do. We have to get out there again and get used to it. But we delivered. It may not have been Hammersmith or Donnington, but it was ours and the mission began with a total victory.

We even had a heckler. It's something of a tradition of the bands that we've been in before that there's always some pissed dude ruining it for everyone, and I'm not sure I understand the mentality of the lone heckler. He's always going to be shouted down, and why argue with people who have mics? All you end up doing is bringing the rest of the crowd on the bands side, unless the band is Nickelback.

But there we are, the first gig is out of the way. And my nerves are well and truly gone.


* * * * *


In other more heartwarming news, Shannon Mathews the schoolgirl who went missing nearly a month ago was found alive and well... admittedly there may well be some questions raised as to why it took the police so long to search the home of a man who was by all accounts some sort of relation to the family and who lived less than a mile away from the familial home... but it is still heartwarming.

Since I was about sixteen, I have carried myself with a certain level of cynicism when it comes to stories like this, namely that when you hear that a little girl has gone missing, my first thought is "You won't find her alive, and she'll probably have been raped." It's hard not to view the world through grey tinted spectacles when the empirical evidence of your eyes ears and historical knowledge can only prepare you for the greyest of outcomes.

This is why my cockles have been warmed. She's alive, and appears to be unharmed. Whatever dark details of the case may later emerge (there was talk of some sort of stockholm syndrome) the fact remains unchanged that in a culture of cynicism and preparation for the worst, one of the better outcomes against all odds and past experience has in fact happened instead.

It seems like a lesson for life. Don't abandon hope.

For the full story, visit

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/main.jhtml?xml=/news/2008/03/15/nshannon315.xml

Quick before we leave the house....

Just about to leave and practice for a bit, then go to the gig.... Wish us luck in whatever way you can, and I'll leave a more in depth post a little later.

The mission begins today!

Clock watching... In more ways than one.

One of the things I hate about working in the evenings more than anything has got to be the relentless feeling of keeping your eyes glued to the clock, or to your phone. It's almost like a nervous habit of mine, and I'm sure I'm not the only person who does it, but boy it sure feels like it.

Every five or so minutes, I fumble around in the arse pocket of my jeans for my phone and check the time. It's not for messages, it's not for missed calls, it's always for the time. Anyone could be trying to contact me and I couldn't care less, just as long as I know that the passage of time hasn't sped up miraculously in the last six minutes.

I'm much worse if you put me in a room with a clock and my phone. The time on my phone is ten minutes fast... Now I know that a lot of people do this; Ten minutes fast on whatever time keeping device it is they use and the theory is that they will always be a few minutes early, but it never ever works that way. The presence of the second clock for me is the best evidence for it. Firstly, there's the frantic scrabbling in the back pocket for the phone, checking the time, then looking at the clock. You go from panic, to relief then to smug self satisfaction in a matter of seconds. Panic; Shit, what's the time?! Relief; Oh, it's ok. Self Satisfaction; Well, it's even earlier than I thought. I can relax and feel good about my time keeping.

Thing is, my time keeping is terrible. I'm always without fail about half an hour early for work, so I just sit in the staff room listening to music. So any time I have saved I just waste. I do believe that there is an earlier post about my relationship with time, and it's still true... Time is easy to waste for me, so why on Earth when I save it do I then just let it slip out of my hands?
There are untold hours where I was doing absolutely nothing that i will never get back.

We're also clock watching now because the gig is only two days away now! Yay! I'm still bricking it though. I spent an hour just practicing one particularly difficult bit of guitar playing because it still gives me the most trouble, and live that's where we'll suffer... if the intricate details aren't ironed out, then we'll sound out of our depth. You don't want that on a bands first gig.

Furthermore, one more reason to clock watch : "The Dark Knight." The new Batman film with the late Heath Ledger and the ever brilliant Christian Bale. Apparently required reading for Ledger for the role of the Joker was a graphic novel called "The Killing Joke."

Now, you and I will both agree, that pictures of Ledger as the Joker were... disturbing. And you can see that out of the required reading, he did well.


R.I.P. I suppose. But at least in this instance, watching the clock is worth it. We'll see the newly reinvigorated Batman franchise in the best shape its ever been and we'll see a star turn from an actor who deserves to be remembered as an excellent method actor.

As for me, I'll have one eye on the clock, one on my phone, and a hand poised to circle a day on the calender.

ughh...... hangover hell

It is ironic that I am writing this with a horrendous hangover considering I'd done a massive post on binge drinking and its cultural impact... all I can say is ugh....

My. Head. Hurts.

Why the fuck do I do this to myself? I'm not going to be ok until sometime into tomorrow day. I have things to do, like recover and play computer games, possibly write songs... who knows? I know we have to have a little bit of acoustic jamming and stuff....

Just done a little research on hangovers themselves... no I didn't go to wikipedia, for it is not the font of all knowledge, but the Thinking Blog

(http://www.thethinkingblog.com/2007/01/how-to-recover-from-hangovers.html)

has just told me the the formal term for a hangover is veisalgia; it comes from the Norwegian word Kveis "uneasiness after debauchery" and Algia... a catch all Latin term for any kind of pain.

It hasn't helped me at all. I will probably be drinking water by the pint, avoiding any and all food, and cradling my head feeling very sorry for myself. My housemates and bandmates will tell me one of two things;

1)They have no sympathy for me whatsoever, I did this to myself.

2)Suck it up and quit being a wuss.

*whimper*

Meeting parents and shameless self promotion.

I met Sarah's father today. I really wish I'd not died my hair poppy red mid week and I wish that I had shaved. I didn't exactly look as straight laced as I wanted to. For some reason, every single set of girlfriends parents have hated me. I'm not sure why. I always turn up well presented, I'm polite (Exceptionally so. You have to be if you're going to meet their parents) and I don't outstay my welcome, nor do I touch their daughter inappropriately in front of them.

So why do they always hate me? I found this (http://www.wikihow.com/Meet-Your-Girlfriend's-Parents)

Thankfully it was different this time round. I'd met Sarah's mum first, and she's lovely, and seemed to genuinely like me, so score one there! She now probably thinks I can do no wrong. So it was just the final hurdle of meeting her Father and Stepmum.

Like I'd said, I really wish I'd shaved, and really wished I didn't have poppy red hair (it really is quite vivid), but all that aside, I performed admirably. I showed that I was a responsible adult who thought the world of their daughter and kept up with her old man in the drinking stakes (we did drink an insane amount).

And yes, he liked me. Full score!

Because of this monumental win and the large amount of alcohol consumed, I decided that it would be a good idea to continue the drinking long into the night. I went to my bar, and got hilariously pissed. I then spent the rest of the night shamelessly self promoting Kalmar and our monumentally important first gig. I don't know how it happened, but we are now headlining, and have a forty minute set. Woop woop! My head will be fucking painful tommorrow mind....