Posts
My time is short in terms of updating this blog (as shown by the fact that my last post seemed to end in the middle of nowhere – I was promptly kicked off the net... and blogger didn't save the draft!), so I am just going to list a whole load of my current musings on Tanzania without going into my usual rambling detail. Here goes:
The monetary system is #%*(#&. On top of having different exchange rates for 50 & 100 $ bills compared to 1s, 5s, 10s and 20s, the exchange rates apparently vary quite significantly across the country. In Dar, the exchange rate was approx. $1 to 1,300tsh. In Iringa it is more like $1 to 1,190tsh. If you use dollars in a shop, you are going to experience ‘conversions’ like $1 to 1,000tsh – and obviously, trying to convert back results in even worse rates.
There is a massive difference between being educated and being smart. Many of the workers at Neema are a great example of this – for example the shopkeeper who proudly told me how he calculates the profit/loss for the week, and explains to the manager exactly why he thinks the profit and loss has occurred, and how it might be dealt with in the future. Contrast that with your average teenager in Tescos! Or the guy who in his first computer lesson wrote a letter to the local primary school, telling them that ‘in this time of globalization, it is important to learn computer skills’ in order to keep up with the times!
I would sum up Tanzania and Kiswahili with one word: ‘Karibu’ (Welcome). I’m pretty sure that even if your arch nemesis came through your door, you would still have the following conversation:
Nemesis: Hodi (May I come in?)
Helpless Prey: Karibu (Welcome)
N: Asante. Habari za leo? (Thanks. News of the day?)
HP: Nzuri (Good)
N: Habari za kazi? (News from work?)
HP: Nzuri…
N: Habari za nyumbani? (News from home?)
HP: Nzuri…
N: *Brandishes knife*
The point being that greetings are such a central part of Tanzanian culture. People who know me well will have probably heard me moan about my dislike of small talk. Whilst this probably counts as small talk, I have no beef with friendly greetings. It really is nice to have strangers ask how life is when you walk down the street, and when you do the same, as my friend Adam remarked: ‘they never leave you hanging’.
Being here has made me appreciate my time at Deloitte a lot more. It seems that contrary what I might feel a lot of the time, I’ve actually learnt a lot of transferable skills there. Yesterday I was quizzed by the FD of Neema Crafts about audit, and went through his accounting system with him. It seems like MBF is going to ask me to do a similar thing. I've also managed to help out a lot with improving MBF's loan tracker.
7 minutes to go before internet goes, could be tight...
Dave over and out
Saturday, 29 August 2009
Sunday, 9 August 2009
Free Beats!
I definitely want to do something like this. How awesome! Bugle man and other passer-by is my favourite moment :-)
Thursday, 6 August 2009
A mismash of cohesion
It's funny how things connect together in your mind. After having a catch up with some friends from school, chatting about old teachers etc, I decided to pick up one of only two books I think I read in any of my English classes that I actually remember enjoying (note: this doesn't mean I felt all the others were rubbish. It was just the mere process of rigorous analysis that ruined them for me). And this one was all the more significant because it wasn't, as I recall, on the curriculum. We spent a considerable period of time on a book that had nothing to do with our exams.
The book is called Moon Palace, by Paul Auster (I was going to link to the book's wikipedia entry, but it turns out that page has horrendous spoilers right at the beginning of the article. Uncool, wikipedia, uncool). In it, the main character, Marco Fogg, is on a search to find himself. What I find so compelling about the story is how Fogg is so easily his worst enemy. I don't identify with him that much as a character, per se, as he seems to be one of those 'philosophical' types who seem to be guided less by the practical than his ideals. He admits to trying to shock his friends, and builds up a false persona for himself that he inevitably falls into. But despite this, he finds himself in a multitude of unique situations, due to just being open to where life takes him (he ends up on the street, and his friends ask him how he never got bored during the day, doing nothing. but I think the point is, life happens regardless).
I could write a lot longer about this book, and I'm not sure my comments would make sense to anyone who hasn't read the book/my mind, but I think what I have drawn from this is that goals are good. experiencing life, as it comes, is also good. but you need to be wise and find the balance between these two. and whatever you do, avoid fading into the nothingness of the everyday. I find my time at Deloitte goes fast - not because I'm really enjoying it (uni also goes really fast - due to the enjoyment), but because in my memory, the days all fade into one. I'm desperate to avoid this feeling in the future, and hopefully this blog will be one method.
I started number 42 on the list the other day - read the whole Bible in order. I've tried this once before whilst I was in Brazil - I got stuck in the law-heavy books, mired in the whole 'for sin x, sacrifice y number of rams, and z young lambs...' bureaucracy. It did, however, make me feel grateful that we are no longer bound by the law! Anyway, this time I'm going to take it fairly slow - rather than try and 'power through' like last time. I think that way, I'll have more time to reflect on the journey as I make it, sort of similar to the benefits of climbing a mountain (running rarely advisable unless you are a porter or some form of native mountain goat. in which case you have four legs and are therefore cheating in my eyes).
How does this fit in with Moon Palace? Well, twofold: firstly, I was having a conversation with my friend Jeremy today about God and His plans in terms of career, life, etc. We agreed that you need to take time, as a Christian, to pray about His plans, but that by the same token, you can't read God into everything that happens relating to your life. This could easily lead to a kind of apathy, whereby if I fail a job interview, that 'wasn't God's calling for me', or whatever. No - you need to find God's will, and then pursue that with determination.
That's the first point. Marco Fogg asks 'why work?' and increasingly finds little to answer his questions, resulting in him barely sustaining himself. With God, there is always an answer - either what you are doing has some benefit to the Kingdom, or it doesn't. We have an instant benchmark for our actions, a direction, and a purpose. Sure, that direction isn't too clear for me right now. But I have faith that I won't be left alone in this.
So, Moon Palace has given me thoughts not only on this blog, but as life as a Christian. Another (perhaps) coincidence - my old English teacher, the one who made us read this book, and the one who once asked me whether a fart could be considered a poem or not, also happens to be a Christian. Without a doubt one of, if not the best, teacher I have ever had, he left us mid-term to publish his book, The Naked Christian. I haven't read it yet. But I want to. In terms of his status as being my best teacher, him leaving was pretty rubbish (he was replaced with a teacher the opposite end of the spectrum), but was also a brilliant move. In a Faulty Towers-esque way, he left while the going was good; while he still had us rooting for him. And what is better than an English Literature teacher actually walking the walk, and going away to publish some literature? I wonder if his thinking as a Christian influenced him in his choice of book. A book that would have no doubt, for those that engaged in it, have challenged every one us teenagers in that class who thought they had the world, in all senses of that word, sussed.
Number 55 is also a new entry, and is inspired by Moon Palace, and one more thought I've been wrestling with recently: the body is incredibly fragile, as matter goes, and yet the mind is unbelieveably resilient. It's quite strange how it's that way round... and so I see no reason why I should be so afraid of making big decisions - big strides in a direction that may be scary, but is the right way. My mind will adapt, I know it will. I just hope that I have the guts to make that decision when the time comes.
The book is called Moon Palace, by Paul Auster (I was going to link to the book's wikipedia entry, but it turns out that page has horrendous spoilers right at the beginning of the article. Uncool, wikipedia, uncool). In it, the main character, Marco Fogg, is on a search to find himself. What I find so compelling about the story is how Fogg is so easily his worst enemy. I don't identify with him that much as a character, per se, as he seems to be one of those 'philosophical' types who seem to be guided less by the practical than his ideals. He admits to trying to shock his friends, and builds up a false persona for himself that he inevitably falls into. But despite this, he finds himself in a multitude of unique situations, due to just being open to where life takes him (he ends up on the street, and his friends ask him how he never got bored during the day, doing nothing. but I think the point is, life happens regardless).
I could write a lot longer about this book, and I'm not sure my comments would make sense to anyone who hasn't read the book/my mind, but I think what I have drawn from this is that goals are good. experiencing life, as it comes, is also good. but you need to be wise and find the balance between these two. and whatever you do, avoid fading into the nothingness of the everyday. I find my time at Deloitte goes fast - not because I'm really enjoying it (uni also goes really fast - due to the enjoyment), but because in my memory, the days all fade into one. I'm desperate to avoid this feeling in the future, and hopefully this blog will be one method.
I started number 42 on the list the other day - read the whole Bible in order. I've tried this once before whilst I was in Brazil - I got stuck in the law-heavy books, mired in the whole 'for sin x, sacrifice y number of rams, and z young lambs...' bureaucracy. It did, however, make me feel grateful that we are no longer bound by the law! Anyway, this time I'm going to take it fairly slow - rather than try and 'power through' like last time. I think that way, I'll have more time to reflect on the journey as I make it, sort of similar to the benefits of climbing a mountain (running rarely advisable unless you are a porter or some form of native mountain goat. in which case you have four legs and are therefore cheating in my eyes).
How does this fit in with Moon Palace? Well, twofold: firstly, I was having a conversation with my friend Jeremy today about God and His plans in terms of career, life, etc. We agreed that you need to take time, as a Christian, to pray about His plans, but that by the same token, you can't read God into everything that happens relating to your life. This could easily lead to a kind of apathy, whereby if I fail a job interview, that 'wasn't God's calling for me', or whatever. No - you need to find God's will, and then pursue that with determination.
That's the first point. Marco Fogg asks 'why work?' and increasingly finds little to answer his questions, resulting in him barely sustaining himself. With God, there is always an answer - either what you are doing has some benefit to the Kingdom, or it doesn't. We have an instant benchmark for our actions, a direction, and a purpose. Sure, that direction isn't too clear for me right now. But I have faith that I won't be left alone in this.
So, Moon Palace has given me thoughts not only on this blog, but as life as a Christian. Another (perhaps) coincidence - my old English teacher, the one who made us read this book, and the one who once asked me whether a fart could be considered a poem or not, also happens to be a Christian. Without a doubt one of, if not the best, teacher I have ever had, he left us mid-term to publish his book, The Naked Christian. I haven't read it yet. But I want to. In terms of his status as being my best teacher, him leaving was pretty rubbish (he was replaced with a teacher the opposite end of the spectrum), but was also a brilliant move. In a Faulty Towers-esque way, he left while the going was good; while he still had us rooting for him. And what is better than an English Literature teacher actually walking the walk, and going away to publish some literature? I wonder if his thinking as a Christian influenced him in his choice of book. A book that would have no doubt, for those that engaged in it, have challenged every one us teenagers in that class who thought they had the world, in all senses of that word, sussed.
Number 55 is also a new entry, and is inspired by Moon Palace, and one more thought I've been wrestling with recently: the body is incredibly fragile, as matter goes, and yet the mind is unbelieveably resilient. It's quite strange how it's that way round... and so I see no reason why I should be so afraid of making big decisions - big strides in a direction that may be scary, but is the right way. My mind will adapt, I know it will. I just hope that I have the guts to make that decision when the time comes.
Wednesday, 29 July 2009
Update!
Good news! I've made my first tangible bit of progress towards something on my list. That something is learning the intro to 'To Build a Home' by The Cinematic Orchestra, which falls under item #40: learn to play piano. I intend to actually learn the rest fairly soon. But it's a start!
Here's a video of Patrick Watson singing and playing it better than I can. Hit it Pat:
Definitely not TCO's best song - for a start it doesn't have any input from Luke Flowers' amazing drumming. For that, you could do worse than check out All Things To All Men, which has the added kudos of featuring Roots Manuva. Or, indeed, any of the songs from the albums 'Motion' and 'Every Day'.
In other news, my friend Mary Beth has started a blog like mine! Except she's had her list for ages, so she's been able to make it and already tick things off. The cheek. She refers to my posts here as 'musings', which is a very apt description...and probably one I've already used about myself. Here's a picture of me musing:
Can you tell I've decided to make my blog more interesting by putting more multimedia on it? It'll get less forced, I promise. Or possibly more forced. I quite like the random pictures, like the killer iPods below. Google images is indeed a weird and wonderful treasure-trove.
Here's a video of Patrick Watson singing and playing it better than I can. Hit it Pat:
Definitely not TCO's best song - for a start it doesn't have any input from Luke Flowers' amazing drumming. For that, you could do worse than check out All Things To All Men, which has the added kudos of featuring Roots Manuva. Or, indeed, any of the songs from the albums 'Motion' and 'Every Day'.
In other news, my friend Mary Beth has started a blog like mine! Except she's had her list for ages, so she's been able to make it and already tick things off. The cheek. She refers to my posts here as 'musings', which is a very apt description...and probably one I've already used about myself. Here's a picture of me musing:
Can you tell I've decided to make my blog more interesting by putting more multimedia on it? It'll get less forced, I promise. Or possibly more forced. I quite like the random pictures, like the killer iPods below. Google images is indeed a weird and wonderful treasure-trove.
Sunday, 26 July 2009
Britishness.
Last Friday a fairly minor incident occurred on the tube that got me thinking. There was a guy sitting down as I got on who was asking everyone around him what they were doing with their evenings. When he asked me, I first assumed he was talking to someone else, his mate next to him or something... and so I ignored him. Then once I realised, we had a short conversation about what we were both doing. Then he moved onto the girl standing next to me. Her reaction was interesting because it was exactly the one I was expecting, and don't blame her for - it was the 'look-away-and-pretend-you-don't-hear-as-this-guy's-probably-drunk' response. The guy tried twice and then gave up, and then got off at the next stop, stopping to say something to a guy the other side of the carriage who he'd obviously had a conversation with earlier.
What's the point of this story? Well, firstly, I have no idea whether or not the guy was in fact drunk, but he wasn't slurring his words or staggering or anything like that. In fact, the only sign that he may have been drunk was that he was trying to engage strangers in conversation. And yet, both me and the other girl both instinctively jumped to that conclusion. Why does this kind of attitude increasingly seem to be the case?
This situation would usually be worse, as if I hadn't been walking back to the station with another person, I'd usually be listening to my iPod, and would have been completely unaware that this guy had even tried to talk to me. The reality is that I hate the tube - I feel immediately hated if I have a conversation on it, let alone talk on the phone. But I'm usually contributing to this general atmosphere myself.
I don't believe this attitude stops at the tube, either. There's a general idea in our culture that you can't talk to strangers unless you a) want something, or b) are too drunk to realise what you're doing. Perhaps this is why clubs are pretty much the only place people go out to nowadays, because it's commonly accepted that most people there will fall into both of the above. But it's sad when genuine friendliness is immediately assumed to fall under those categories, just because they are the norm.
There's also the whole fear thing. And this is real - for example, in Bristol, we had a resident 'Bristol Groper' who was targetting girls in an area close to the uni campus late at night - meaning no girl could really walk home on her own. But, while I'm not condoning recklessness, I don't think we should forgo friendliness or avoid strangers due to a few obviously extreme individuals. The majority of people are nice - you probably think all your friends are, and yet, they are all strangers to someone else!
There are some parts of modern culture that do combat this mentality a bit, but at the same time they are still infected by it. For example, flash-mobbing - a brilliant experimental social idea showing the power of the internet come to real life - whilst involving lots of strangers coming together for a common purpose, doesn't actually involve any meaningful social interaction between the participants. that's partially the point - in Bristol we did a flashmob freeze in the main shopping centre (Cabot Circus), where on a cue everyone froze, until 5 minutes afterwards, when everyone moved on again and faded into the crowd. But this kind of exercise does nothing to form any links with others.
Like I said at the start, I'm part of the problem on the tube, and probably in general as well. And this list is about doing things I wouldn't usually, to change and better myself, and generally live. So I want to put something that will challenge ME to do something that gets me out and meeting strangers. And if possible, encourage others to do the same. So although this isn't specifically an item yet, I'm open to suggestions, as this is a work in progress.
I realise I never explained the title. I think this attitude, whilst it may not be unique to Britain, is certainly a symptom of Britishness. And actually, I think it's probably one of our worst qualities - I think we have plenty as Brits to be thankful for, and proud about, but this isn't one of them!
[End of Rant!]
What's the point of this story? Well, firstly, I have no idea whether or not the guy was in fact drunk, but he wasn't slurring his words or staggering or anything like that. In fact, the only sign that he may have been drunk was that he was trying to engage strangers in conversation. And yet, both me and the other girl both instinctively jumped to that conclusion. Why does this kind of attitude increasingly seem to be the case?
This situation would usually be worse, as if I hadn't been walking back to the station with another person, I'd usually be listening to my iPod, and would have been completely unaware that this guy had even tried to talk to me. The reality is that I hate the tube - I feel immediately hated if I have a conversation on it, let alone talk on the phone. But I'm usually contributing to this general atmosphere myself.I don't believe this attitude stops at the tube, either. There's a general idea in our culture that you can't talk to strangers unless you a) want something, or b) are too drunk to realise what you're doing. Perhaps this is why clubs are pretty much the only place people go out to nowadays, because it's commonly accepted that most people there will fall into both of the above. But it's sad when genuine friendliness is immediately assumed to fall under those categories, just because they are the norm.
There's also the whole fear thing. And this is real - for example, in Bristol, we had a resident 'Bristol Groper' who was targetting girls in an area close to the uni campus late at night - meaning no girl could really walk home on her own. But, while I'm not condoning recklessness, I don't think we should forgo friendliness or avoid strangers due to a few obviously extreme individuals. The majority of people are nice - you probably think all your friends are, and yet, they are all strangers to someone else!
There are some parts of modern culture that do combat this mentality a bit, but at the same time they are still infected by it. For example, flash-mobbing - a brilliant experimental social idea showing the power of the internet come to real life - whilst involving lots of strangers coming together for a common purpose, doesn't actually involve any meaningful social interaction between the participants. that's partially the point - in Bristol we did a flashmob freeze in the main shopping centre (Cabot Circus), where on a cue everyone froze, until 5 minutes afterwards, when everyone moved on again and faded into the crowd. But this kind of exercise does nothing to form any links with others.Like I said at the start, I'm part of the problem on the tube, and probably in general as well. And this list is about doing things I wouldn't usually, to change and better myself, and generally live. So I want to put something that will challenge ME to do something that gets me out and meeting strangers. And if possible, encourage others to do the same. So although this isn't specifically an item yet, I'm open to suggestions, as this is a work in progress.
I realise I never explained the title. I think this attitude, whilst it may not be unique to Britain, is certainly a symptom of Britishness. And actually, I think it's probably one of our worst qualities - I think we have plenty as Brits to be thankful for, and proud about, but this isn't one of them!
[End of Rant!]
Monday, 20 July 2009
Don't blame it on the sunshine, don't blame it on the moonlight
#10: Watch the sun set and rise again in one night
I think this'll be a cool one. It is possibly something I've done before as well, but never with the sole purpose of watching the world change as it gets dark, and then slowly gets light again.
Twilight is interesting because its one of surprisingly few times when your eyes play tricks on you in normal life. Generally, our eyes are really good at adjusting to lighting conditions - be it sunlight compared to artificial light (the spectra of light emitted from tungsten lightbulbs is composed of greater amounts of long wavelength light, meaning things should appear redder), objects in shadow versus those in shade, and of course, day versus night.
I personally really like nighttime. Everything takes on a silent, slightly eerie quality, in total contrast to how the same area might be during the day. Particularly when it's starting to get light again, but the world hasn't caught up yet and is still sleeping.
I would really like to do this somewhere with a great view, to get the most of the changes in light. Maybe I can also see the moon illusion as well. So I'm thinking Brandon Hill in Bristol might be a good one...
Image nicked from Charlie at flickr. Cheers Charlie, nice work!
[Please excuse the MJ reference - making tributes seems the cool thing to do right now, and once I'd thought of it I couldn't resist. RIP Jacko!]
I think this'll be a cool one. It is possibly something I've done before as well, but never with the sole purpose of watching the world change as it gets dark, and then slowly gets light again.
Twilight is interesting because its one of surprisingly few times when your eyes play tricks on you in normal life. Generally, our eyes are really good at adjusting to lighting conditions - be it sunlight compared to artificial light (the spectra of light emitted from tungsten lightbulbs is composed of greater amounts of long wavelength light, meaning things should appear redder), objects in shadow versus those in shade, and of course, day versus night.
I personally really like nighttime. Everything takes on a silent, slightly eerie quality, in total contrast to how the same area might be during the day. Particularly when it's starting to get light again, but the world hasn't caught up yet and is still sleeping.
I would really like to do this somewhere with a great view, to get the most of the changes in light. Maybe I can also see the moon illusion as well. So I'm thinking Brandon Hill in Bristol might be a good one...
Image nicked from Charlie at flickr. Cheers Charlie, nice work!
[Please excuse the MJ reference - making tributes seems the cool thing to do right now, and once I'd thought of it I couldn't resist. RIP Jacko!]
Saturday, 18 July 2009
Keep on Rockin' in the Free World
I thought it might be nice to clarify some of my targets in more detail, both for my own personal focus and also as some might seem a bit odd without any explanation. Similarly for the stuff I have done, it'll be nice to recount some of the stories. So here we go:
Things I have done: #13: Played a gig at Thekla
This was a big deal for me, as it was my new band's first ever gig (This is my Normal State in case you were wondering), and also my first time playing in a proper, professional venue, supporting proper, professional bands. The main support, Blue Roses, were a lovely folk act who had just got back from playing Glastonbury. The main event, St Vincent, is currently on a world tour of sorts, and is generally all kinds of amazing. Check her and her band out.
What was so amazing about this gig is how receptive the crowd was. Dragged-along-friends aside, there seemed to be plenty of strangers who really dug our sound, evidenced by the fact that our free CDs disappeared within minutes of our set. Even a guy behind the bar asked for one! And the dragged-along-friends? Well, as one remarked to me: 'to be honest Dave, I really wasn't expecting much from you - but that was actually really good'! I think I'll take that as a compliment... You can also find a proper review of the gig here.
So it was generally an amazing night, far better than I'd hoped for. At one point it was looking pretty grim as people were coming through the doors and we'd only just begun setting up and soundchecking (at practices it usually takes us 30+ mins to set up), but I think this meant that I never got a chance to get nervous. And the set itself didn't go perfectly, but these things rarely do. It went past in a second, which I'm sure is a good sign.
I think one other significant thing for me was the breaking down of the fame barrier. As a result of the crowd reception, and the other bands' reception of us, I realized that it is possible to be a 'proper band' that people can enjoy alongside any perfectly produced, professional band, even if you are a bunch of students. And furthermore, both bands were really friendly to us. I had a conversation with the violinist of Blue Roses, Sadie, about how she was looking forward to hearing us play at the next venue on the tour. And she was surprised when I told her that we were just the local support - we weren't, alas, playing the ICA in London. We blended in - nobody could tell we weren't a touring band, much less a band with (at that time) no gigs at all under our belts, unless we told them.
My conversation with Sadie (and a shorter one with St Vincent's bassist) showed me that these guys who turn up on stage, apparently fearless, in front of hundreds, or thousands of people, are actually normal people themselves. Possibly an obvious thing to say, but perhaps not something that I had actually registered deep down. And I would venture to guess that the 'rockstar' persona is a very rare thing, and not the kind of personality I would particularly aspire to anyway. Anyone who has had talked to me about Oasis knows my opinion of the Gallagher brothers... something I'm not going to repeat here; let's keep this clean...
This leads me to:
On the To Do List: #3: Play at a festival & #19: Play a gig in London
These two targets seem far less daunting after the revelations above. In regards to #3, Blue Roses have, according to Sadie the violinist, been together about a year - and they've played Glastonbury. Glastonbury! If they can do that, then I can at least manage a poor indie festival.
More importantly though, I want to experience the festival spirit from the other side. The kind of thing that makes Damon Albarn of Blur break down on stage. There's something about festivals that are wonderfully uplifting - society coming together for a common interest, and yet also seemingly far from society, like you've entered another world for the weekend.
#19 should also be one that isn't too difficult, but is still very significant for me. Although I might not get to play the ICA, plenty of bands get to play support slots in London many venues, and it caters for pretty much every music genre imaginable, certainly ours. But London is the place where I grew up going to see the bands I admired, who held that otherworldly, not-quite-normal status. There's definitely something compelling about playing the capital, which has seen countless huge bands and so much musical talent come to its venues. I also want to see how it feels - in the same way as the Thekla gig, I'm sure it will be both amazing and humbling at the same time.
Things I have done: #13: Played a gig at Thekla
This was a big deal for me, as it was my new band's first ever gig (This is my Normal State in case you were wondering), and also my first time playing in a proper, professional venue, supporting proper, professional bands. The main support, Blue Roses, were a lovely folk act who had just got back from playing Glastonbury. The main event, St Vincent, is currently on a world tour of sorts, and is generally all kinds of amazing. Check her and her band out.
What was so amazing about this gig is how receptive the crowd was. Dragged-along-friends aside, there seemed to be plenty of strangers who really dug our sound, evidenced by the fact that our free CDs disappeared within minutes of our set. Even a guy behind the bar asked for one! And the dragged-along-friends? Well, as one remarked to me: 'to be honest Dave, I really wasn't expecting much from you - but that was actually really good'! I think I'll take that as a compliment... You can also find a proper review of the gig here.
So it was generally an amazing night, far better than I'd hoped for. At one point it was looking pretty grim as people were coming through the doors and we'd only just begun setting up and soundchecking (at practices it usually takes us 30+ mins to set up), but I think this meant that I never got a chance to get nervous. And the set itself didn't go perfectly, but these things rarely do. It went past in a second, which I'm sure is a good sign.
I think one other significant thing for me was the breaking down of the fame barrier. As a result of the crowd reception, and the other bands' reception of us, I realized that it is possible to be a 'proper band' that people can enjoy alongside any perfectly produced, professional band, even if you are a bunch of students. And furthermore, both bands were really friendly to us. I had a conversation with the violinist of Blue Roses, Sadie, about how she was looking forward to hearing us play at the next venue on the tour. And she was surprised when I told her that we were just the local support - we weren't, alas, playing the ICA in London. We blended in - nobody could tell we weren't a touring band, much less a band with (at that time) no gigs at all under our belts, unless we told them.
My conversation with Sadie (and a shorter one with St Vincent's bassist) showed me that these guys who turn up on stage, apparently fearless, in front of hundreds, or thousands of people, are actually normal people themselves. Possibly an obvious thing to say, but perhaps not something that I had actually registered deep down. And I would venture to guess that the 'rockstar' persona is a very rare thing, and not the kind of personality I would particularly aspire to anyway. Anyone who has had talked to me about Oasis knows my opinion of the Gallagher brothers... something I'm not going to repeat here; let's keep this clean...
This leads me to:
On the To Do List: #3: Play at a festival & #19: Play a gig in London
These two targets seem far less daunting after the revelations above. In regards to #3, Blue Roses have, according to Sadie the violinist, been together about a year - and they've played Glastonbury. Glastonbury! If they can do that, then I can at least manage a poor indie festival.
More importantly though, I want to experience the festival spirit from the other side. The kind of thing that makes Damon Albarn of Blur break down on stage. There's something about festivals that are wonderfully uplifting - society coming together for a common interest, and yet also seemingly far from society, like you've entered another world for the weekend.
#19 should also be one that isn't too difficult, but is still very significant for me. Although I might not get to play the ICA, plenty of bands get to play support slots in London many venues, and it caters for pretty much every music genre imaginable, certainly ours. But London is the place where I grew up going to see the bands I admired, who held that otherworldly, not-quite-normal status. There's definitely something compelling about playing the capital, which has seen countless huge bands and so much musical talent come to its venues. I also want to see how it feels - in the same way as the Thekla gig, I'm sure it will be both amazing and humbling at the same time.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)