Sinister: Civic pride

[Nick Dastoor/BSHO/GB]

Uh-uh-uh (supposed to be the noise of a small child desperately trying to get 
its words out but too excited to do anything but attract attention with a 
repetitive kind of squeal).

So much to say.  I've just returned to work (boo!) and thus internet access and 
read through piles and piles of wonderful archived sinister postings.  Beat 
Patrol and Susannah's questions being answered and the start of the avalanche 
of Manchester-related gushing. It's all enough to make me forget my looming 
mountains of unopened post and inevitable end of year direction of life angst.

Err.. yes, the Town Hall.  Sigh.  I left work before the meet up details were 
posted so I missed out on all that.  Perhaps this was a bad thing.  But I went 
to Saturday's with some friends from Manchester I haven't seen for two years so 
it would have all been a bit awkward.  I hope those who did meet up had fun and 
were not shocked by each other's appearances.  As I looked around Albert Square 
at everyone I was somehow disappointed.  How rude of me.  I don't know what 
would have impressed me.  Probably not looking at myself.  Partly it was just 
the preponderance of twenty-something males in studenty attire.  Which probably 
covers me, but I do look about 12 so maybe I don't count.  Oh, I don't know 
what I'm on about.  I suddenly sound all negative and that's no good.  Because 
I come to praise not to bury (:

I'm not going to attempt a review of Saturday's concert.  Just some random 
thoughts:  it was a shambles....the sound was pretty ropey...it made me laugh 
when we were finally let in and people started forming the only orderly 
single-file queue for a bar i've ever seen (although this soon broke down and 
B&S fans showed themselves for the beer monsters they really are)...after 
queuing for about half an hour for an ill-advised third drink a kind boy said i 
think she's first and then _she_ said actually i think _he's_ first and then i 
failed to carry on the goodwill and said yes i think i am...thankyou whoever 
you are...stuart murdoch doesn't look like he does in the few photos i've 
seen...less debonair and more gawky...i was too far back in the crowd...my 
(female) friend said later that every male in the audience was transfixed by 
isobel...i thought it was just me...everyone stood still...the same friend also 
said that the girl at the merchandise stall (Katrina) was dead posh...i left 
not allowing myself to think that it had been a little bit joyless.

But Sunday lunchtime - ah, now that was a whole lot different.  Just me on my 
lonesome this time.  I arrived just as everyone got chucked out to wait outside 
which meant that I ended up being right at the front of the queue.  Got talking 
to a rather snooty boy who was slagging off the t-shirts and the prospect of 
'teenyboppers' ruining everything by dancing and singing along.  Stopped 
talking to him after a while.  Skip forward to sitting cross-legged right in 
front of the right (in theatre direction terms) side of the stage.  Waited for 
hours reading Little Ink Movies and Creme Anglaise, surveying the scene and 
wondering what happened to the festive film idea.  Failed to talk to anyone.  
Wondered what I must look like to everyone else a lot.  Gosh e-mails get long 
when you do this sort of thing.  Is anyone even still with me?  I shall abandon 
the chronological approach.

So I spent the whole wonderful time under Stuart Murdoch's nose.  And yes it 
was wonderful (not his nose - that was only adequate).  Everything that was 
disappointing about Saturday was put to rights.  Saturday was like a rehearsal 
really - intriguing but they didn't really gel.  Completely different set of 14 
songs except for Arab Strap.  Better selection of new stuff.  Tigermilk rocked 
like a lemur.  Everyone filled in for Stuart when he forgot his terry 
underwear.  We all cheered Stevie (who seemed an excellent steadying presence 
on the proceedings - I'm sure he makes an excellent counsellor) and his 
ever-shining Seymour Stein.  Mick Cooke's very handsome, isn't he?  And best of 
all, I grabbed a set-list at the end.  As well as being something generally t
reasurable, it let me put names to gorgeous new songs like Simple Things.  And 
next to Expectations the absent-minded Boy Stuart had written the first lines 
of some of the verses that he has difficulty remembering.

Some people I noticed - anyone recognise themselves? :

- An Edwyn Collins lookalike in rather dapper clothes who wandered around for a 
while, then appeared to be worshipping the speaker stack, and finally spotted a 
man in glasses round the other side of the stage so dashed around there, where 
he stayed for the rest of the evening.

- A boy in black with worrying maroon slip-on shoes complete with gold buckle 
and a perfectly accessorised gold carrier bag.  He sat just behind me on the 
floor near the front whilst waiting for the band to appear, and seemed as on 
his own as me.

- A girl with big red hair sitting on a podium stage right.

- A girl with lanky hair and glasses, wearing a flowery pink blouse and a red 
tank top.  I kicked your elbow as I negotiated the seated hoards on my from way 
back from the gents. You said "Ow!". I said "Oops! Sorry".  Sorry again.  If 
I'd been a quick-thinking pervert I could have kissed it better and then said 
"But I'm only re-enacting the lyrics to Seeing Other People".  But luckily I'm 
neither quick-thinking nor a pervert.

- A bloke with long hair and glasses who was behind me at the front.  You tried 
to attract Isobel's attention at the end, perhaps to get her set list or 
something, but her attention wasn't to be attracted.

- Someone who I'm sure was Danny the miserable loner off "Grange Hill".  Tell 
me this is true!

- Some tallish skinny boy right at the front who spoke to no one, grinned 
inanely throughout the set, and unzipped his murky green top to reveal a 
cornflower blue Go-Betweens T-Shirt.  Oh, of course - that was me!

So long all.  I think I've outstayed my welcome.  Hope to meet you all one 
day...errrm...I'll get me coat.

Nick

nick_dastoor.bsho at notes.compuserve.com 

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