so that was last weekend... monday was another nice evening out with amanda, although i feel a little doubt creeping into the interest - how could i love a girl who thinks that the mars volta are as good as at the drive-in?
(reader's voice: "'koff grilly, if at the drive in were still going they'd be well shit now". grilly: yes. evidently)
but yes, i was amazed by notting hill, london is a truly strange place. i will blog it proper when i understand it.
last night i saw ephel duath, who felt a little sparse; when they had the trombone player alongside, filling in for melodic vocals, rhythm guitar, and trumpet, the sound was much more wholesome. i wonder if they were slightly short on energy too... and some impro could be nice, although i respect davide's choice of such completely deliberate yet chaotic notes. i've got to learn the scale that he writes in. i'm sure it's some kind of meta-scale, where the note is determined by some alien factor. i wanted a stage invasion, it nearly happened. sadly the encore was the first song again - the material must be quite intensive to learn (no count-ins, the whole set, whic given the largo they were using is truly remarkable).
today i started working at the ealing pct again, but upstairs now, not the dungeonous post room. i've started to appreciate the zen of temping again; it's lame and a bad idea and as equally valid as doing anything else.
and then tonight it was big gril's birthday party in a private kareoke booth. tremendous fun but expensive, or, expensive but tremendous fun. it really felt like culture, but also a piss-take of japanese culture, which is a piss-take of life anyway. the only experiance i can relate it to is renting a sheesha pipe in a cafe. the space reminded me of so many things; hell, gay dungeons, crypto-fascism.
i really feel like i ought to have a real diary again.