*---* HAPPY BIRTHDAY SINISTER BABIES *---* Hello Campers, Say it loud, I'm back and I'm proud. I had a lovely holiday, thank you for asking. Highlights... A two hour ride on one of those lovely Icelandic horses across fine mountain scenery, although this seems to have given me a strange gait and a dull ache somewhere unmentionable; Being forced up a near vertical cliff by my significantly more energetic travelling companion, complaining all the way, only to be rewarded with the most amazing view of a volcano and the coast and a huge glacier; In the Blue Lagoon, the cure for every ailment known to man, just sitting there as the warm water eased over my bones and soaked into my pores; Not going to poxy Damon Albarn's bar (why does everyone ask me that?); Last but not least, hanging out with the mighty Olla, our Icelandic Sinisterine, and discovering that she rules with the best of us, especially after Tom, the middle-aged Minnesota millionaire who latched on to us, had bought us numerous drinks in a futile attempt to convince us that mercenary capitalist bastards had feelings too. But, God knows, you kids want to know about Belle and Sebastian. As my flight conventiently came in to Glasgow, I was able to attend the B&S whist drive/bingo/youth club event at Maryhill Community Centre, (next door to Taggart's car complex, the source of much merriment) an occasion that allowed me to meet "Tasty" Tim H!O!P!kins, the famous Mister Ed (our chauffeur for the night), the delightful Ooooooon, the publishing David, not to mention "zany" autograph hunter Calumn, along with a few of the usual suspects. Keith "Snap Happy" Watson was causing trauma with his funsize camera, playing air piano (a true multi-instrumentalist) with Tim to "Outdoor Miner", and missing the golden oppurtunity to drink in a band named after his favourite drummer - Bonham. Susannah had a cold. Jackson Jeffrey Jackson was wearing little more than a smile, to celebrate his hat-trick against Newcastle, Rachel's breasts preceded her, Katrina and David and Anne and Paul and Linda and Chris and Julia and Sandy and were there too. We mingled and dug the sounds. Then we were herded like cattle through to the "auditorium". Katrina's botty shuffle across the dancefloor (no stilleto heels by order of the management) was the unexpected support act, and then some band or other came on and played some songs. They were damn good, you know. Lots of stuff of "Sinister", a scattering of new songs, a couple of "Tigermilk" ("that song is available on Electric Honey Records" said cheeky choirboy Disco Stu), we were introduced to Momma Murdoch. It was like watching a (good) dress rehearsal in some ways, which was fascinating in its own right. Star of the show was undoubtedly Stevie, who appeared to be playing "The Boy with the Arab Strap" entirely on his own as the rest of the band disappeared behind monitors and pianos. They left, we went to the bar (the barman, with a completely unnecessary lack of dignity, was practically begging me to drink), mingled a bit more, digged Andrew Symington's Booty Bouncing Bohemoth beats, and went home "tired...but happy". That's it really. See (some of) you at the weekend. Love, Tagnusson xxx +----------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the Sinister mailing list +---+ To send to the list please mail "sinister@majordomo.net". To unsubscribe send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to "majordomo@majordomo.net". For list archives and searching, list rules, FAQ, poor jokes etc, see http://www.majordomo.net/sinister +---+ "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" +---+ +----------------------------------------------------------------------+