Got home from work on Saturday and stuck a pizza in the oven: Carolyn made it over in time to help me eat it, while we drank Stella and watched Doctor Who. Caroline got to the house after it'd finished, and we sat in my room listening to records and drinking Fosters. Then we headed up over the West Hill, and down to the PoorBoys cafe, where we met Kim, Reuben, Crystal, Helen Driver and Ollie. Richard Hart was playing a gig there, with the occasional friend helping out on hand-drums etc. We drank Starpramon, and Tim Hoyte joined us. Richard's progressed over the last year or two from playing cover-heavy gigs (generally Dylan, Velvets etc, as far as I recall), gradually introducing his own songs, to the point at which his gig this evening was (again, as best I can remember) entirely his own material. His guitar-playing has also grown in confidence: he really powered his acoustic through some of the tunes, which matched the intensity with which he sings some of his more personal songs. Nearer to 11pm, it was time to get to Brass Monkey: of our group, I went along with Kim, Crystal, Carolyn and Caroline. As I paid to get us in, the doorstaff dropped my change on the floor, and I couldn't find it, but we did all get given excellent sampler cds by Lowercase (Bristol hip-hop, forthcoming at the venue) so that kind of made up for it. The A Team were due to play eventually, with Ch3vy djing either side of their performance, but there was a long time to wait until the band started, and all the XXXX I was drinking there was sending me off to sleep now and again as I listened to Ch3vy's choice of funk/soul records. Kim got most into the djing, and had a bit of a dance, although he left before the band played. The rest of my friends were determined that I wasn't going to slope off home to bed before the band, though, and eventually the guys made it onstage, all dressed-up in character (though the addition of Bonj to the group meant there was an extra man in The A Team: I dunno whether they tried to get him dressed up as that reporter woman from the earlier series' that no-one remembers, but he seemed to have declined on that idea anyway). I think Billy was being Murdoch, Matt (Ch3vy) was Face, and Paul was Hannibal, but I may have got that a bit wrong: undoubtably Rufus was B.A. Baraccus though - there's no mistaking a ginger-bearded white guy disguised as Mr T. In the run-up to their previous gig at Brass Monkey (which I missed) I had tried to dissuade Rufus from going for the full make-up option, fearing unwelcome connotations with minstrelism on his behalf, but none of my friends (white and black) that evening seemed bothered, so I didn't mention it this time. What with it being so late, and everyone being so drunk (there was wedding-parties in the house) The A Team went down a storm, even if they were quite sloppy round the edges (Dean, not at the gig, defended this fact by pointing out that the TV/Film themes were generally so short, that they were playing a set of around 30 tunes, which is a lot to remember and rehearse for anyone: he seemed less-impressed by The A Team concept as such, as he's a passionate believer in original songwriting, but you can't deny they've found a quick and easy way to get paying gigs - they should be out capitalising on the University Summer Ball season pronto). Right now, off the top of my head, I can recall attempts at Thundercats, Ulysees 31, Cagney & Lacey, Minder, Monkey, The Muppet Show and Fraggle Rock, but there was loads more, and if anyone wants to post a few more titles up in response to this entry, feel free. We really laughed a lot and danced about badly, and just got generally more drunk, I think particularly Crystal 'cos she kept telling me how much she was loving it, in that really excitable way only drunk people can manage! We stuck around even later into the early hours after the band had finished: Caroline made it out the venue first, but soon the rest of us tumbled out and across Havelock Road, just about suceeding in hailing a taxi (well, jumping the queue in our drunken enthusiasm) to get the Bexhill lot home. I couldn't get up until 3pm the next day, and have been ill since, but whatever!

For some reason, I felt really out-of-sorts again last Saturday, and I'm not at all sure why. I'd watched Doctor Who and played a cd before heading out to the Brass Monkey for Rufus' gig. En route, I passed Lethwin, who asked me along to meet everyone at the Jenny Lind before they went to Desolation Boulevard at Venue M, but I wanted to get into town, so I declined. Unfortunately, I'd got my timings wrong, and the Monkey was in the middle of throwing a private party (fundraising for special needs children, I heard) and wasn't opening to the public until later, so I had to head home again. By the time I got to the Jenny Lind, everyone I'd have known had moved on, so I decided to have a couple of beers at home. I was a bit hot and bothered, and wasn't in the mood to be scammed by anyone, so when a woman stopped me outside Turners with the line "Hey, mate, sorry, I know it sounds daft, but I've just been up to the Hospital with my Granny, and we were driving back just now and I've run out of petrol.." I just said "You're right, it does sound daft" and walked off. I grabbed drink from the shop and ducked back indoors, and drank them whilst listening to some of my Beatles 7"s ('cos I'd not been in a Beatles mood for ages, but you can't deny them when it strikes). Then I went back into town and into the Monkey, which had only just opened, so only Rufus and the Regular John boys were about. I gulped a few beers, and then Michael and Caroline turned up with Dean, and we sat at the tables round the back, which turned out to be alongside Alena and her friends (who included our old next-door-but-one neighbour Simon, and a guy who used to hang out at Ridding and the Crypt and early ATP events with us, who was enthusing about Dizzy Tiger etc, but his name escaped me at the time, though I think I've remembered who it might've been since). Said hello to Christa and Paul too, and then Regular John came onstage, and they were really shrill and powerful, and seemed to have been re-organising some of the structures of their songs in the time since I'd seen them last. It was all good, but I wasn't very awake, so I slipped away quickly once their set had finished, missing Rufus' band, unfortunately.
I felt better later in the weekend though, and despite feeling very tested at work at the start of this week, I still honoured my plan to go over to Brighton last night for Spirit Of Gravity. As usual, I got the train over straight after work; I picked up food in the shop outside Brighton Station, ate a cheese roll as I walked down towards the Level, sat on a bench and ate some enormous cupcake/muffin thing, then went along to the Marlborough Theatre. I sat in the quiet, left-hand bar, as the right-hand bar was rammed with football fans (mostly women), psyching themselves up for the evening's England V Sweden World Cup match. Lee had been upstairs soundchecking, so he soon found me, and gave me a copy of the new Shitmat/Spirit Of Gravity Remixes cd, and I showed him my Doctor Who Top Trumps. Carolyn turned up and joined us, and SOG's Geoff popped his head round the door to say Hi. Once the match was underway, it was also time for the live electronica too, so we went upstairs to find that (apart from Lee setting up onstage, and Geoff and Tony running the door) Carolyn & I were the only members of the audience. Lee started up his Rashamon set, and it was quite fun being the only people there for a while, we just sat in the front row and smiled at Lee. Fortunately for everyone, more and more people began turning up as Lee's set, and the rest of the evening, progressed. Lee had been working on some newer tracks on his laptop, it seemed, and re-ordering some older ones, and it all worked very well, even the trusty melodica. Afterwards, Lee sat down with us, and then next up was a guy playing as Lifting Gear Engineer, who was up from Swansea (the SOG mail-out flagged-up that he'd had some stuff on Boobytrap Records, which I'd at least heard of). This guy was great, playing a laptop set very much in the vein of Skam Records stuff, or the old Artificial Intelligence acts: really crunchy and tactile. The music was occasionally interrupted by the cheers of the football crowd in the bar below, though, which prompted the odd inhabitant of the room to run swiftly downstairs in order to check the scoreline. Headlining were SOG stalwarts Multiplex - two brothers and a scrawny drummer, with loads of slow, ambient visuals (clouds, ballet etc) projected onto them, the stage, and a small film screen. Multiplex's stuff was generally so soothing (again in a 90's/Orbital way) that, coupled with the visuals, and the beer of course, I kept sliding into nodding off. But I got through it happily in the end, and then it was time for everyone to pack up. Tony SOG gave me one of his I'm Dr Bouyant 3" cds to listen to too, which was nice of him, and then it was the late bus/taxi challenge for Lee, Carolyn and I. Taxi wins!

Er... not much happened, then a few things happened, now nothing's happening again. More details? Well, this time last week it was my birthday (33 years old on 6/6/6 - I liked that!), and handily we were all going down to Dean's regular Revolver slot anyway. It was a busy enough evening, nice to see Michael & Caroline (who gave me the Warp Records book), Carrie & Tom (who gave me the World's Worst Record-Covers book), Wookie, Kim et al all out & cheery. I'd arranged to meet Jeffrey (Disastronaut) there too, just to meet & catch up, & I had a Rashamon cd for him, at his request. Dean & Jim played their first set, seemingly more golden and chiming than usual (whether this was because Revolver had sold the upright piano since a fortnight ago, necessitating a change in set-up - the amps used to rest on the piano behind the performers - I'm not certain); and Jeffrey turned up towards the end of the set. It was very good to meet him, he's very enthusiastic about all sorts of music, and a forward-thinking promoter/networker, which should be mutually helpful to all of us, I'd hope: was good to get the chance to introduce Dean etc to him too. Richard Dennett played the next set: he wasn't coming through particularly clearly this evening, compared to times I've ssen him play before: again, that could've been due to the set-up, or it could just have been my position in the room. Jeffrey headed off to do more work, and I popped outside again to talk Paul for a while, but I mostly chatted to Wookie & Kim from that point,as far as I recall. Rufus played a quick, strong set: and Dean & Jim finished off. The bar stayed open late, and I don't really remember particularly much that went on after a while, except that people bought me drinks, and I drank them quite quickly, but didn't stay on too late. Id had my full birthday party at home the Saturday before (very nice, thanks for asking), and had had to be at work during the day itself, so the evening at Revolver was just a nice coda to the whole thing really.
The next evening I went along to The Street because The Crayons had emailed me with news about a gig there. I got there and chatted to Mark for a bit, then Carrie & Tom made it along, so we took a table. Being The Street, Richard Dennett was on hand to perform again: he was a lot chattier and relaxed tonight, and many of his songs came across much better for it. At one point he mentioned that Dean (absent tonight) had compared his next song to Buffalo Tom (not a reference Richard was familiar with), but Dean was right, and it was a good song anyway! I met Rob at the bar (don't see him a lot since he moved out of our house), but he was chatty and got me drinks, though he preferred to watch the music on his own, and didn't join us at our table. Kim turned up as arranged, and was in good spirits, buying drinks for me too, and being very agreeable to everyone. The Crayons came on for their set, and impressed me by the fact that they'd thought seriously about making an acoustic gig different from their usual 60's/powerpop electric sound. Tempos were changed, instruments were swapped, or replaced by shakers and melodicas, and there was general good feeling about. Kim executed several sketches of us all in his book, and finally did one of me, that (whilst I looked away momentarily) he swiftly put into a pre-prepared frame, as a present, which was very suprising and clever of him. That was a warm evening.
A couple of days later, on the Friday, it was the turn of the Brass Monkey, on the occasion of Michael's birthday. I got there, and Michael & Caroline were there before me. One Boy Girl were just starting onstage: a three-piece associated with the Eastbourne group Fracture, I believe, though The Crayons' Mark plays bass. After a shaky start, where it seemed none of the group could hear one another, meaning tempos slipped out of joint, they hit their stride three or four songs in, with some decent indiepop sounds. Duncan & Angie, followed by Carrie & Tom, turned up, and sat at the table, whilst I chatted to a fresh-offstage Mark, and said Hi momentarily to Del, who must've been helping-out with the sound or djing, I think. Our email friends The Black Tulips started up onstage, and as they were the reason we'd chosen the Monkey to celebrate Michael's birthday at, I hung back with Mark and watched their amiably-mannered set. As expected, their art-collective mates Rob Sample & Sara were dressed-up (as requested in the Tulips' mailout: both the band, and Hastings Free-TV, had arranged to film the gig) and down the front, dancing away with Linda King. Though The Black Tulips have an edge of actual 'performance' (as well as 'playing' if you know what I mean, and that's not meant disparagingly), and a Gothic (via Siousxie & The Banshees) aspect to their sound, it's important to note that they're a hell of a lot of fun too, and don't take themselves massively seriously onstage (every gesture is quickly broken-up by a grin or a gag). As we'd had a bunch of email and message-board conversations over the past year, I was glad to take the opportunity to say Hi to Lord Fuxley (not his real name, of course, but I'll leave that minor detail out for now) at the bar after their set, and he was a charmingly self-effacing but enthusiastic chap. Caroline had given me a (debut merchandise exclusive!) Rumiko Jr badge earlier in the evening, and Fuxley gave me a Black Tulips one to complement it (in negatively inversed colours, ie black & white, but they looked good together). Marcus & Lisa, Dean & Helen, Rufus, and a few of their friends, all turned up around this time, and were able to catch the headliners The New Shapes (introduced onstage by Mark, who told the crowd that they'd had to drive 9 hours to be here... from Watford?! What did they use, the Blue Mini-Van?!) Anyhow, they were a fine-enough angularly-jagged guitar group of the currently-popular type, and (unlike the previous Stuart MacKenzie promotion we'd been at) I had no problem with them at all. Some of my friends did though, but only because they reckoned the lead singer was the spitting-image of me: couldn't see it myself, but then why should I? Maya arrived at this point, fresh off the train from an anti-War meeting in London (laudably, and as expected), and eventually (after more jabbering away about the evening's music) I agreed that I'd walk her part-way back to her place. Said goodbye to the others, got Maya as far as the top of the West Hill, wished her well, and stumbled my way down the footpaths to home.