Let me introduce you to the next big thing…

The Bumfluffettas, the newest and brightest stars on the Sunderland music scene, with Hana on vocals, tambourine, cowbell, melodica, and any other similar instruments she can get her hands on, and Becca on guitar, drums and backing vocals. Their repertoire of songs includes such hits as 'Ode To My Hairbrush', 'Rock Of Pooo', 'I Really Really Fucking Love The Cribs', 'Knobhead', and covers of the Postman Pat theme tune, Formed A Band by Art Brut, and, at Becca's insistence, Build God Then We'll Talk by Panic At The Disco, with, at Hana's insistence, long wanky melodica solos (although quite frankly I don't see how anything by Panic At The Disco could be made more wanky).

Alright, so Knobhead has a proper name but knowing how many people read this, I don't fancy being sued for defamation of character again.

Also, we theoretically have Phil from DARTZ! on drums as well, but he has yet to be consulted on this. Or even informed.

(One day I really am going to write a song called I Really Really Fucking Love The Cribs. With backing vocals of repeatedly yelped 'FASHIONISTAS, WE DON'T NEED YER')

(Or possibly You Know, Your Scene Has Got A Lot To Answer For. I bet I could get loads of guest vocalists on that.)

I just dropped my poor baby.  On Chester Road.  Her face is all scratched now and I can't forgive myself.
Oh, well, you can get hot pink covers for a Motorola V3, all I need to do is buy a new one.
I need to stop referring to my phone as my baby.

In other news, I have a PLAN for getting back from Newcastle after Black Wire.  Woo.  Yay.  An expensive plan, but it will be WORTH IT for Black Wire.  And Leeds.  And hell, all that travelling and dancing and general twatting about means that I'll sleep well.  At about four in the morning, but still. 

I was pretty sure the White Room was over 18. Chances are it is, it’s a perfectly nice bar and café by day, but it does have a sex toy vending machine upstairs. But my first encounter with the Cluny (I got in…I’ve never been turned away from there but that one was close) has made me a little wary of over-18 venues. I was going to wear my polka dot top, but wisely thought no, let’s not. So I changed it for a plain black t-shirt that looked better.
Until I started squeezing my foundation tube and SHIT, it splattered all over my tits. Which were wearing the black T-shirt.
My only backup? The polka dot top.
Let’s get you acquainted with said top. You might not have seen me in it. It is LOW. And black. I have one decent bra that could go with it, which is a tad…um…small. Only a bit, mind. But still, it’s a bit attention-attracting. My tits are not small.
I was still worrying about getting in as we walked in the door (followed by DARTZ!…OK, that’s a lie, they didn’t follow me, I held the door for them), but as I turned to face the people taking money it was obvious they didn’t give a shit. They just wanted to see the bands as much as we did. And I instantly felt like a twat.
It was a bit weird though, they tried to shoo us in thinking we were with DARTZ!. Hannah (paying) set them right and insisted they took the money. Ace.
It got weirder, my brother’s best mate from years ago was having a long in-depth conversation with Peter Brewis. We just sat down and I tried not to turn into a melting squealing fangirl when Phil from DARTZ! stood right in front of me, with his arse at my face level. And when I say right in front of me, I mean my face was literally a couple of inches from his arse.
Um…it’s a nice arse, in my defence.
I can’t remember the first band’s name. One of their keyboard players could dance like few things I’ve ever seen. Alan from the Rakes is the obvious exception. Legend.
The second was B>E>A>K, the origins of which became obvious when they went up to play wearing bird masks. They’d be alright to dance to, but I wasn’t in the most dancing mood.
The third was Hot Club de Paris. What legends…they opened with a song ‘Welcome to the Hot Club de Paris’, which had no instruments in it (good thing they’re all good singers then…they couldn’t do that in a big venue) and had them doing shadow puppets on the backdrop. I held the bass for another song they did without instruments, and bloody hell, it was heavy. And that song finished with ‘I love you…but not as much…as I love myself…’ Their set finished (why am I concentrating on endings?) with the best song title I’ve ever heard ‘Sometimes It’s Better Not To Stick Bits Of Each Other In Each Other For Each Other’. Well, I like it. Legend.
DARTZ! were last. They covered all their best songs (Once, Twice, Again!, Fantastic Appa-rah-tus, Prego Triangolos, Laser Eyes…you know the drill), finished, as ever, with Teaching Me To Dance, which I was pleased to see had the saxophone (apparently their old saxophonist, !, got too unreliable…) and, of course, the cowbell (played by Jeff…weirder and weirder, I tell thee…). And they even played an encore…consisting solely of a thrown-together X-Ray Bex.
We even talked to them a bit afterwards…of all of them to recognise us, it was Phil who said hi when we approached. See? Fangirl.
But…throughout the gig, I had just one fault…I KNOW THE BRA ISN’T PARTICULARLY SUPPORTIVE AND THERE MAY BE A LITTLE BIT A LOT OF BOUNCE WHEN I DANCE, BUT THAT DOES NOT MEAN YOU HAVE TO STARE DOWN MY TOP FROM THE OTHER SIDE OF THE ROOM, IT BECOMES OBVIOUS WHEN YOU COME TO STAND NEXT TO ME.
And breathe.
I also got perved by a charv on the way home. I get perved a lot. But this one was pretty awful. Fortunately Emma Chapman’s boyfriend is lovely and helped me.
With my story that I was a lesbian.
All he had to do was ‘What about that lass you were meeting the other week? She was fit.’ And the story becomes a thousand times more believable. What a star.
The charv still continued until we lost him. I didn’t walk so much as a metre away from anyone on the way home just in case.
Oh, and I played DARTZ!’s cowbell a little. I’d love to pretend I played it for Teaching Me To Dance, but I already told you, Jeff did. It was just while we were talking to them afterwards, I’d picked up a broken stick from next to the drum kit and, well, the cowbell was lying in easy reach. And nobody minded.
Today, I plan to eat lots of toast, drink lots of tea, get a shower, oh, and I’m flyering for Corinne Bailey Rae at the academy tonight. I’ve heard a lot about her, I’m surprised there was a space and Phil (not Phil from DARTZ!, sadly…oh man, my job would manage to get even more fun then, and Phil from the academy is a bit fit anyway) needed to ring and ask me. Ho hum, pig’s bum.

I love Ryan Jarman.  I love how he still sticks by his story that he invented Live 8.  I love how he was sneakily topping his cup up with God knows what under the table.  I love how he drew a speednob on Snoop's head.

I love Ricky Wilson.  I love how he actually couldn't introduce Ryan objectively and went on about how brilliant the Cribs are.  I love how 'I thought you were Hulk Hogan'.  I love how 'I predict a laugh riot…..uuuuurgh…I feel so dirty.'

I love how that episode of Never Mind The Buzzcocks will be on the BBC website all week. 

Right.

So how do I get from Newcastle to Sunderland at 2.23am on an April morning?
I'm going to see Black Wire in Leeds, THERE IS NO OTHER WAY.  And I DON'T miss the last train from Leeds, and I change at York so I get first class at least some of the way back.  However, getting into Newcastle three hours after the last metro to Sunderland has left and approximately three and a bit hours before the first one leaves, leaves me in a bit of a dilemma.
Unlike some (AMY) I would NEVER ask my parents to pick me up from even the end of my street at that time of the morning.  I mean, for one, it's a weekday so they'll be at work in the morning.  I wouldn't ask them to pick me up in Leeds, same reason.  I can't afford a Travelodge or anything like that (don't be silly now) and I categorically refuse to sleep in the station.  I don't think the people on the door at Warehouse would take too kindly to me bringing a sleeping bag in.  I doubt I could afford a taxi and I doubt how far they'd go.

I'm screwed, aren't I?  I think the taxi is my best bet at the moment.  And I'd have to save up like hell just for that…and I fancy a Black Wire t-shirt.
Oh shit, oh shit, I am screwed, parents aren't going to let me go to Leeds, I can't go in Newcastle, I haven't seen Black Wire since last June…oh shit….AND I REALLY WANT TO GO!
This isn't fair.  It's not.  I know the metro runs past residental areas, drivers might not want to do night shifts, blah blah blah…still, why can't they run through the night? 

With two posts in a day I am really spoiling you…

But I had to point this out.  In a USATODAY.com feature about British music…

Now a new rock incursion is rolling, led by the Arctic Monkeys, a frenetic foursome from the grim industrial town of Yorkshire in the North of England.

Now…who can fault that, eh?

(ALRIGHT, SO IT’S AFTER MIDNIGHT, SHUT UP.)

(YES I KNOW BOTH OF MY POSTS TODAY HAVE BEEN ABOUT ARCTIC MONKEYS, SHUT UP.)

(SHUT UP.)

The ‘Who The Fuck Are Arctic Monkeys’ EP will be released on April 24, led by the LP track ‘The View From The Afternoon’.

Haven’t they stolen this from Black Wire’s ‘Who The Fuck Are Black Wire?’ T-shirts?

Alright, so I admit it’s probably a pretty ubiquitous (have I spelt/used that right?) thing, but still, Black Wire got there first, AND they’re better, AND I like to criticise Arctic Monkeys.  Still, the songs on there sound alright.

In other news, my feet are cold and wet.

In other other news, the Pipettes might be doing an RPM instore, and this fills my heart with unutterable joy.

In other other other news, if Amy steals my headphones again I’m going to kill her.  She thinks that just because she broke hers she’s got a right to take my iPod ones.  I offered her the black over-head ones (you know the sort I mean, even if I described them badly) and if she’s not going to take those, she’s not bloody having mine.

In other other…oh you get the picture…news, I got some nice soup for my lunch today and didn’t even get to eat it.  Oh well, at least it’s there for tomorrow now.  And if anyone else eats it I will cut them open for it back.

The sun is shining.  The air is…whisper it…warmer.  There are daffodils, but admittedly they haven’t flowered yet and could easily have just been planted there fully-grown.  There are Easter eggs in the shops.
I like spring.

Last year, I started going to gigs.  You knew that.  My *counts on fingers* *loses count* *checks list* fourth, was a little  free festival in Gateshead, the Orange Evolution festival.  Good day.  I saw some people I hadn’t seen in a while, got sunburnt on one arm, ate a cheeseburger, used a portaloo for the first time (NEVER AGAIN…SO MUCH POO…I’D RATHER PISS IN THE BUSHES) and saw some decent bands as well.  The Futureheads.  Kubichek!  Probably some others, I can’t remember.  The Others, yes, but they don’t count as decent.
I saw some shitty ones as well.  Hard Fi.  Fightstar.  The latter got bottled off.  My joy was uncontained.
So yeah, last year was alright.
But WHAT THE HELL possessed them to have HARD FI HEADLINING THIS YEAR?
ABOVE GRAHAM COXON?
THE TALENTED LEGEND WHO’S MADE A LOT MORE ALBUMS THAN HARD-FI HAVE AND THUS IS DESERVING OF BEING A HEADLINER?
He’s even SUPPORTING them on tour.  He’s supporting KAISER CHIEFS.  KAISER CHIEFS, for fuck’s sake.  He is one of their influences and he is SUPPORTING them.
Hard Fi should be supporting him.  Actually…scratch that.  They shouldn’t be doing anything.
Anyway, I don’t care, because I’m not going anywhere near that stage.  I wouldn’t mind seeing Coxon again (without being at the back with the added distraction of Duels standing right next to me) but then I’d miss JIM NOIR at one of the other stages.
There’ll be an outcry, I can hear it now, why is he billed above Field Music?  Why?  It’s all part of my campaign to make him king of the universe.  First Orange Evolution, next stop, the world, muahahahaha!
Um.
But yes, I’m a bit excited about this.  There’s Field Music before him and The Go! Team headlining that stage.  And I’ll be nowhere near Hard Fi!  YAY!

I often wonder what my parents were like as teenagers. I can’t remember if I’ve ever asked them about it, but we’ve had the odd story…my dad was working when he was my age, and he’s still working for the same company, admittedly in a much, much higher job, with the company under a different guise. That just makes me feel guilty.
But when I have children- and I hope that one day I do- and they ask me what I was like as a teenager, I will remember nights like last night.
I can’t remember the exact situation, but there were some of us in a car and the driver singing along to some song on the radio. They’d seen the band N number of times, and we were told, When you start going to see bands live, you’ll know how important it is.
Whoever it was, was right. Oddly enough, one of my favourite scenes in my head is driving along a motorway in the summer, music loud and singing along, and telling my children, when they complain about my singing and the music (believe me, I won’t make like my dad and have THE SAME TAPE in, day in day out, for months if not years, but children are predisposed to hate their parents’ music), about how I saw this band so many times and how wonderful they are. Boring them maybe, but reminiscing is one of my favourite things.
I’ll tell them that going to gigs was my favourite thing from the age of 16. They’ll hear all about my stage invading, my camping for tickets, but essentially it’s all about the gigs that don’t have to be anything really, really special, they just have to have everything going right. Just like seeing Duels last night.
I was with all of my favourite people to go to gigs with. All of them. We got there early and queued up at the front. We kept spaces for people turning up late. We heard Duels soundchecking whenever the doors opened, we could hear Brothers And Sisters (yes, this WAS an excuse to text Jess) and The Monsters Are Loose. About half an hour before doors Becca dragged me to the pub, and one of her accomplices (she seems to have thousands, but I’d met this one before) wisely fed me vodka and red bull. With extra red bull, so by the time I left the toilet 15 minutes later I was giggling maniacally and uncontrollably. Of course we made it to the front of the gig. Duels’ guestlist hadn’t turned up, so Jess was a bit stuck, but her place was kept easily enough. (It was packed at the Rakes and we still managed to squish her onto the front row for Duels) We took the piss out of the first support, by doing stupid dance moves to one man and his acoustic guitar (who turned out to be in Graham Coxon’s band later, Jonbass pointed it out). When we went outside for a moment we managed to sneak a peek at Duels’ setlist, which included two songs I hadn’t even heard before. If you’d like to refer to my last post, that song is one hell of a set opener. Animal and Potential Futures just get better and better, but lack of What We Did Wrong is a bit disappointing. A non-Duels Graham Coxon fan asked me for my space when Duels finished, so that was a nice excuse to tag along with Jess and Kirsty to talk to Duels. Well, I say tag along, but they encouraged me to come. I was introduced to Jim (I had to word that carefully…I obviously knew who he was, but he couldn’t remember that I’d met him before and I didn’t expect him to) and he had a lovely soft, warm hand shaking mine. And he’s a bit fit. We talked to the bass for ages, he was telling us about Texas (where they’d just flown in from that morning- Jess told me they were only landing an hour before stage time but they landed ages before that), where he DIDN’T buy a cowboy hat, but James (drummer) had bought some $400 cowboy boots (alright for some, eh?) which he tried to show to us before we realised he wasn’t even wearing them. We all skulked off to the back to watch from there, with the voice (it’s so much easier to refer to Jon and Jon as the voice and the bass), with pretty much everyone else joining us at various points.
Then I remembered the glasses in my bag, fortunately during my favourite Graham Coxon song, Freakin’ Out, which has the handy line ‘Put on your aviator shades, yeah man you’re looking really ace’.
These are not aviator shades, these are HUGE blue star-shaped glasses which, according to Becca, whose glasses they were, were 50p from Tesco.

The voice. (Fit much?)

Elton Jonbass.

Jim. Lovely, lovely Jim. My phone must hold the world record for the number of messages (both in and outbox) that say ‘I LOVE JIM!’

Not Tim, but still a bit fit and one hell of a drummer.

Don’t encourage me.

And since I can…

Me, the slightly deranged-looking voice, and Jess, who was the one texting me saying ‘I LOVE JIM!’ He guestlisted her. Twice.

And the picture that could only be improved by a couple more Duels (James, Katy, if I knew where you were I’d be looking at you!), the people taking the photo (ilu, I fucking do), and the one who crowdsurfed, stage invaded, danced with Graham Coxon, and remembered it wasn’t the Cluny when she got unceremoniously booted out.

That’s a lot of pictures, but if I find this while Googling just before going to collect my pension in 60 years’ time, it’ll be a nice reminder.

And something to show the children.

On a different note, Wikipedia IS our friend, it can provide much amusement at half five in the morning when you can’t sleep.

Famous songs regarding Wakefield

• “Here We Go ‘Round the Mulberry Bush” – about Wakefield Gaol
• “The Grand Old Duke of York” – commonly attributed to be written about the battle of Wakefield, referring to Richard, the grand old duke.
• “Wrong Way To Be” – by The Cribs. Features the lyrics “Like all these clued-up arseholes trying to set us and Wakefield at war.”