To be honest, i've been meaning to update this thing for ages, but I couldn't remember how. Well finally that alignment of stoned and bored has occured, and here I am.
First things to begin with, went to see Califone a few days ago. OMG, f**king brilliant!! The pathtic thing was that there were only 60 to 70 of us there. 10 minutes brfore the band came on counted 15 in the room. As far as I know, this is the first time that Tim Ruiti has properly come over here to do his thang, and the turn out was piss poor. From a selfish point of view it made for a beautiful chilled intimate gig, but I couldn't help but feel ashamed that Manchester couldn't produce a decent crowd for them. By rights tickets should be hard enough to get because of left over red red meat fans. As far as I was concerned they were as important as the pixies and MBV etc in moulding the way that good music has followed, and the direction he has chosen to take from there surpasses what he did before (although calf moon tripe takes a hell of a lot of beating. not done it yet).
What was really cool about the fact that it transpired that an individual whom I felt so important turned out to be a no mark was that he was seling his own merchandise beforehand. Partially good becauise he has a habit of making limited release albums during tours etc that if you can get hold of are wonderful, also because this time he had hand created each cd case individually and it was early enough in the tour to be able to have a good selection, but mainly because since no f**ker seemed to realise that he was Mr Ruiti as they went in it was possible to sit and shoot the shit with him for ages. An especial bonus since I was forced to go to this one on me jack, possibly an early clue. I think that means that the last 2 gis I went to I attended alone ( the last being Arab Strap). There is something that strangely good about being alone at a gig, probably that you genuinely don't care what any f**ker there thinks. Don't get me wrong, I don't want to w*nk in public or anything, but staring at the ceiling with a huge grin on your face can tend to make you look a bit of a fool.
I think my next ceiling gawp is going to be Explosions in the Sky, a truly truly excellent band who will be playing at a small venue near you for not much money very soon. This time a mate is getting dragged along, but given the right band he can smile so much that he throws up. I took him to his first Spiritualized, Mogwai, Flaming Lips and Sigur Ros gigs and I really like the look of sheer joy on his face as he gets overwhelmed by the sound of a gig. Especially as for a comedy turn he tends to throw up disorientated a few minutes later if it's really good.
That has turned out to be one of the benefits of being Mr Cripple, you instictively seek out a good vantage point within which you won't get too disturbed. Sounds dull, but just 'cos i'm wellied i'll tell you the age old secret of getting a brilliant view at almost any standing gig. Keep it under your hat. Most everywhere has a bar halfway down on the same side as the main door. This creates a permanent crowd that jams the whole place up and makes it look more busy than it really is. If you walk aroud the edge of the crowd across from the main door and go up the side there is no one until about 10 feet from the stage. (only works up until 3 minutes before the band come on, the route is full of lions and tigers and bears by then.) That I have found is the best place for a game that i like o call "Lard Spotting". For obvious reasons, this is a very Manchester game, but i'm sure there must be regional variations. Marc Riley has very good taste in music and can blag his way into any gig he wants, he even got to introduce Bowie at the accaddemy. The rules are exactly the same as the "Who can spot the Blackpool Tower First" game played in many a car. You know that the thing is likely to come up on the left very soon, and you want to be the first in your car to see it for no other reason than that you have done.
Anyway, I'm going to stop doing this now because I havn't got a bloody clue what i've typed thirty seconds ago anymore. Booze, Weed and Industrial-Pain-Killers © a good way of making certain that you sleep and also make you glad that there's enough time for eight hours sleep and a meal before work tomorrow.