23.12.01 - 08:48am
A crazed review of today/tonight/at the Portland arms.
I awoke fortified by sections of actual sleep, though I daren’t admit to her. THE BABY HAS BEEN ILL AND WE ARE RAGGED. Had to take tha little nifgga to tha dctr this morning. \My dad was coming> He came, early. We did Dad stuff quite well, semi-pressureless. He left. Christmas shit all ove=r the place. Ludicrous cheque. More ill-baby madness, like freaking the kid out into the cold (actual snow) at 6PM to the emergency Chesterton doctor shit for no real reason other than actual understandable parental mind-shit. Fucking nice dctr. Wanted to make love to his beautiful tidy face, clothes and manner. Syd was suddenly happy, r3elaxed, ordered cocktails. fUck and thank god.
Thus I ended up at the pub, and eventually dr=unk, as you cam clearlty see.
Saw some 55 seconds of the Broken Family Band, bu t seeing as how the Bfb are so ggoood it huts me personally, and plus STEVE helpe dme on my way as I left the premises, I’ll leave them out, so fuck em.
Then Fonda 500. Didn’t particularly… obviously I rate them (seen them before, actually) but I found them tainted by their relative success, ha ha. Impressed and then bored by the Casio aesthetic. Matey’s got his shtick down pat and you almost feel a bit left out. He seemed peeved as well. Couple of brilliant songs though. Obviosly. And matey is a great frontperson. Found myself idly wanting to suck the bassist’s tits at one point, and was then surprised to find that I was surprised at what goes on in my mind when I’m not thinking about it. Stared at the audience too, for quite a while, and resolved to make a film (especially good as a backdrop for one of my stupid performances). The front row’s faces were all illuminated in yellowy light from the stage, and it was interesting to see the expressions of those worshipping at this humble church of rock.
Fuck knows about Chris TT. He’s played on every gig I’ve almost gone to at The potland in the past few months>. He was badly dressed (like casual square) yet his bassman was superfly, and the drummer had some keithmoon modshit goin on. And the bass feller is a fucking god for his styles and effects-use. But I wasn’t sure about Chris, and his songs, and his voice, until I’d let the first one wash over me. He sings badly, with honesty, and then they go off and rock out in a weird place that you don’t expect them to, and its really good. Bassman impressed me with clothes/style, as I say, and using a really dirty but understated bass sound with FX. Odd band. No bad thing. Horendously fucked on the way home. Skunk = The Fear.Young drunk girls in tinsel said something. I just gave a cracked, leery grin.