Battersea Arts Centre's Sausage Night: a benefit show for the venue, featuring a star-studded array of stand-up comics along with free sausages. Damn good fun, with the added bonus of me being one of the winners of their raffle, picking up this t-shirt signed by everyone who performed that night.
Go to http://www.youngbloodbrassband.com
and listen to March
on the site's audio player. Now try to imagine what it's like being in a small room with them.
I'm an old man now, and so I tend to avoid the moshpit these days when I'm going to gigs. At Gogol Bordello's show, the moshpit extended from the front of the stage to the mixing desk. Still, even when watched from behind that mixing desk, this was one hell of a show - I haven't seen this sort of frenzy since the heyday of the Pogues.
Her out of Lamb, but gone all folky. Very nice indeed, actually.
Why has EVERY SINGLE CHOCOLATE MACHINE ON THE LONDON UNDERGROUND NETWORK been out of order for the past month? And all with the same notice stuck on the front? Eh? Eh?
Damn, those boys know how to work a crowd. Though it was curious to see a few people leaving just after they played JCB, halfway through the set.
1. The stage setting for a reading of America (the spinoff book from The Daily Show) at the Prince Edward Theatre, featuring host Jon Stewart, head writer David Javerbaum and producer Ben Karlin.
2. The copy of the book they signed for me after the show.
(Yes, it would be nice to have a photo of them on stage here, but the lights were too bright for my crappy mobile to pick up anything other than an overexposed blur. Although I prefer to think that the photo was actually ruined by the suckiness of surprise guest star Ricky Gervais, who managed to cock up a perfectly amusing routine through his inability to pronounce
Spanish swear words.)
...and it'll come with two slices of walnut bread and six biscuits tucked up in a little bed, like they're having a carbohydrate orgy. (Or, as The Belated Birthday Girl so splendidly put it, a menage a huit.)