Sunday 7 October 2007

Gilmour's Log

22:58 5-Oct
London Underground

I head north, well, right now
I'm on the Circle Line, to Victoria, bogged
down with bags of CDs.. To my left a
clubber teaches a small child magic
tricks and I think of people I haven't
seen in London yet, friends from school
and the like.

I gotta start embracing this city
rather than surfing it.

Next weekend there's a four dayer
Thur-Fri-Sat-Sun of gigs and clubs
and its a crowd I can feel
comfortable with. Even Spiral Scratch,
with no bands, I think I can bring a
friend.

Can I sleep on the bus? Do I
need to write? No, I just need to
live.

I have a regular audience here,
people who read everyday. Its kind of
reassuring. thanks

23:30 5-Oct
Victoria Coach Station

I'd forgotten
about the coach station. Usually Megabuses
go from the armpit of Victoria, but
now they go from the same place as all
the proper coaches. It nicer here, not
as chilly, with food shops that are
open, rather than closed or non-existant.

Last time I was here may have
been on the way back from LA with Alan
when we spent 12 hours waiting on the
next bus. Hmm, this sounds familiar
maybe that was the last but one time I
was here. Damned crap search funtion
on blogger.

I could swear the girl in front
is called Fiona friend of Cathouse Dave
and buddy of Paul Trainer, she hasn't
aged, probly someone else.

The driver's a big man.

I'm starting to need a wee.

Tomorrow morning's going to be exciting
* Kilt hire
* Wedding prezzie
* Birthday prezzie
* CD stock checking
* Roast vegetables
* Shave and a shower

I heard the new Just Joans songs
for the first time today. Bellshill Station
sung by Katie about a couple where
one moves to London and the other stys
in Scotland, fading. I'd be poignant if
it wasn't for the half dozen relationships
I've been in where the same happened.

This journey reminds me of
the inbetween days when I'd come down
at weekends for gigs. What happened
to that vibe I felt?

Was it the passing of time and the
passing of the first place. Was it me being
in London that made things happen? I
claim 7% responsibility. LNFGIES
ubiquity, and prolific posting, even the
rising profile of NCOPIN. I'm just one
more footsoldier, but one who won't
stop fighting.

Was Bunny 'berry? And is there
a, what's the word, faction, those folk
who haven't made it to the third place.

How many are like Robbie in a
sulk cos they weren't in the first wave.
Maybe that was a hipster / scenester
razor. The scene just drifts, but the
hipsters chase. And what of The Flyer?

Did this Indiepop Genocide actually
come to pass? I didn't do anything,
except post in my blog.

I saw Rosie the other week at
the Windmill and we just blethered,
I wouldn't stop talking, I need to do
that more.

07:55 6-Oct
Buchanan Bus Station
IMG_2662
It was the most unpleasant journey
I've been on for many years. I ache all
over, my arse, my feet, my face, I
dozed fitfully, dreaming on I on a long bus
journey to Scotland, paralysed.

I realisenow I've left the Wedding
invitation in London, Alperton, on top
of y chest of drawers.

Six hours until the wedding, twenty seven
until this is all over.

My head, it aches.

I have an inch of cappucino left
when I realise I forgot to put any sugar in

Also I feel increasingly guilty
for starting every sentence with "I" and
just talking about myself.

10:39 6-Oct
Moss Bros

The missus was lounging with friends
from the night before, party detritus and
silken pyjamas.

I slumped in a chair, felt guilty
for not getting her a birthday present and mumbled
conversaion.

All the shops in town were closed as it
was too early. But now, with Nat's straight
vision, everything's shaping up okay.

St. Margaret's Church in Ardrie, aiming
for 1pm.

Other folk in Moss Bros getting fitted
for wedding gear and taking their time,
talking incessently, nervous maybe.

Is there any underlying cultura /
philosophical reason or meaning behind how
at weddings, women search high and low
for a dress, something unique, but
men hire, something generic.

12:20 6-Oct
Train to Airdrie

Where is Ardrie? Is it near New Lanark?
Where am I going?

Natalie's reading Empire Magazine, whilst
I scribble. Small child sat adjacent
keeps staring.

I'm exhausted.
IMG_2707
IMG_2666
IMG_2720
11:00 7-Oct
Buchanan Bus Station

This is oblivion then. Natalie made me
a pack lunch, beef and mustard with
salad and possibly a pinch of lemon,
a packet of Pringles and a large bar
of chocolate. The sun's shining brightly,
London sunshine in glasgow.

The bus rocks as the driver slams
shut the luggage bay.

The wedding was fun, a long day,
but gentle when it got going, kind of
weird when everyone started singing
Happy Birthday for the missus

18:23 7-Oct
Watford Gap

This is the seventh level of heck of
oblivion. My guts are rotten from trapped
wind, my arse, I cannot feel it cos of
these seats. Some small child from the
Glasgow-Manc leg spilt a can of Irn-Bru
so everything that's touched the floor
is soaking. From the Manc-London
leg there've been girls chatting incessently
and yet again I have a seat it is
impossible to sleep in.

I reckon we're an hour and a half
out, I might still mke it to Bowl and
Sebastain. I may even be able to see
Monica Queen performing solo.

Boo to the Business World

It might soon be time to splash out on
and iPod and join the rest of the travelling race.

Its cold up here.

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