Filed under: iain and music
iain and i went to see a band called kubichek! last night at the night & day cafe in manchester. we have seen this band many, many times now. so many times that iain has four of their t-shirts, all different designs, from four separate gigs. this shirt fascination is something of a character quirk with iain, as i think.. i think he only ever wears band t-shirts in fact.
but nevermind that, onto other topics of conversation. before we graced the venue, we had a pint in the fab cafe. well i had a pint, iain had to have a bottle of beck’s, for he had driven to town, and i was fairly adamant that he would not drink drive. becks was the subject of much reminiscent chuckles as well, for reasons private to our friendship circle. as we sat and drank though, we watched the very beginning of total recall, which was playing on one of fab’s many small tv appliances. iain observed that films first watched at a young age are often idealised to the point where all the plot holes miraculously fill themselves in.
our night culminated in an incident of such grave circumstance that i will not report it. it will remain between iain and i. ’til he lets me talk about it. sounds very dodgy doesn’t it?
sam.
As the legendary Hercule Poirot paces the room before the elaborately dressed 30s rich folk, so I, dear reader, pace mentally before you, our glorious readership, and present you with irefutable evidence of Iain’s demise.
Iain is off to the so called cream fields on the morrow. And though me and my fellow editorial staff have a vague concept of what the deceitful organisers of this festival of horrors want the public to believe is it’s intention (Some sort of dance music thingy…) I have now conclusive proof of the true purposes and inconceivable depths to this most horrific of enterprises.
Upon mention of the name ‘Cream Fields’, Editor-in-Chief Sam was immediately visited by a vision of rolling pastures overflowing with dairy produce and cows. It was this prophetic imagining that opened my eyes to the truth. A land of rolling pastures overflowing with dairy and cows? Cream Fields? There is a place on this island that fits that terrifying description, a fell, dark place from whence no man ever returns, at least not in spirit.
Of where do I speak?
The West Country….
And so Iain goes for what must be one of the final stages of his initiation into Bristolancey. His mancunian soul will be torn apart, unless, as we must hope.. his will is strong.
Doesn’t get more conclusive than that right there.
Tom
Filed under: iain and music
tonight i have helped iain to set up a program which will sync his ipod listens with his last.fm profile. so we will all be able to see what he has been listening to while on his travels as well as his ‘at home choons’. the actual help i gave was fairly minimal, all i did was put him on to the existence of this thing and he did the rest himself.
anyway, welcome to the new writer by the way, tom. he’s posted before but not in such depth, i hope he will continue to.
tomorrow i’m going to an island in wales so i will not be able to speak to iain for a few days, and will also not be able to post. oh no. so i rely on tom to do some work.
sam.
so i’m just conversing with iain on a few subjects, first of which was my garnering of a macbook pro (finally), iain congratulating me with a heartfelt “jammy cunt”. this is about him paying the same money as me for his white macbook, which is outclassed by this thing that i’m on right now. however, i would remind iain that i have been through one other macbook and a few months waiting to get this far, so i believe my dues are paid.
anyway, what we are talking about right now is a girl called kate nash, a young musician who actually details herself a lot better than i could in this youtube video that iain linked me to. iain likes the cut of her jib, though i think he disagrees with me on the her hair-style’s longevity in the modern world. i myself think it will look pretty silly in one or two years time.
sam.
Filed under: iain and music
the great tony wilson died two days ago of a heart attack. he’d had cancer for a while and the heart attack was borne of surgery complications. he’s gonna be missed.
“i’m a minor player in my own life story.”
i forgot to add in the last post that today iain told me about how he went to dpercussion (a free indie music festival held in castlefield, manchester) last saturday, which he enjoyed, and while foraging for footage from the event, he came across an amusing character, known to this youtuber as terry nuttkins.
sam.
tonight i had iain round my house for some reason. this reason being that we chatted on msn for a bit before we both agreed that we were actually bored enough to drive to asda (my place of work) and bumble about there for a while. this has happened more than once, and i am now coming to understand that iain and i do very little that is in the way of interesting. though tonight, we did purchase macdonald’s chicken sandwiches from the drive-thru, which were fairly tasty.
conversation tonight spanned a range of topics, from what songs iain and i could successfully pull off playing together. iain’s choices were either by brmc, nine black alps or the vines. a short list you may think, but when compared to my list of; muse, iain looks a veritable john peel by distinction. we actually played a few good numbers, interpol among them, obstacle 1 namely, and you only live once by the strokes came out really nicely, it is a nice song after all. this little jam session was spurred, at its core, by iain’s need to form a band and play a gig. for doing gigs makes people like you.
sam.
last week some time, iain and myself met in town, i think it was monday. we ate lunch in the waterhouse, a local wetherspoons pub, each opting for the ‘beer and burger’ meal, priced at a reasonable five pounds. conversation varied, though i cannot remember most of the topics discussed. i think iain brought up a question i once drunkenly asked him, intending to shit him up a bit. the question was something like this;
“if you had the choice between your own oblivion and the subsequent damnation of mankind, or eternal torture and the salvation of your species, which would you choose?”
that’s really an odd question, and i do sometimes wonder where it came from. nevertheless, iain gave his answer, and he opted for the first, more self-serving option. which is perfectly fine, considering the number one priority for everyone ever is their own happiness, which certainly would not be guaranteed under a lifetime of torture.
anyway, after that, iain and i went down to a couple of our favourite haunts; the guitar shops on oxford road. we used to fairly regularly go in and see how expensive the guitars we could play could get before the shop guys told us to get the fuck out. a lot of the time we got really far, i think we breached a grand once. sound control have the wider selection, but without doubt, johnny roadhouse is the one we preferred. here you can just pick up any old guitar and play it.
one time, during a phase where iain and i were quite taken with acoustic bass guitars, we almost bartered the old guy upstairs (not god) down to a pittance for a 150 quid acoustic bass. the conversation went something like this;
old guy: “so, you like that eh lad?”
me: “yeah it’s a nice one this…”
old guy: “you a student yeah, i’ll give yeh ten percent discount fer that.”
iain: “fifteen quid?”
old guy: “twenty percent.. twenty five?”
iain and i kindly declined his kind offer (in retrospect it was actually a pretty good deal, but the desperate sale-chasing was just too funny).
sam.
