:: Life in the Lost Lane ::

Life in the Lost Lane
A collective of English Gentlemen

Monday, July 28

Life in the Lost Lane.

It seems that L3 has floundered as of late. ChimpA has most definitely gone silent, which is a real shame from, in my eyes at least, a great man.
Half Empty, one can only assume is doing "OK" but some wisdom from the home of the english BigMac is always welcome and raises more than a rye smile.
As for Sleepo, well I understand that he's not online as often as he once was. I doubt if he spends as much time online (Friday afternoon doing BBC quizzes anyone?) as he used to.

The last couple of weeks I've been spending emerged in the world of music. In particular the Breaks scene of London, England. I've met a really good crowd of people and from time to time have the honour of gracing some certainly interesting venues.

This Friday I spent in a Shoreditch bar called Public Life which was putting on a Breaks night by the name of Anti-Tainment.
The venue itself is an old converted underground toilet on Commercial Street and despite its cleanliness and all the mod-cons, it doesn't take much to visualise how it once may have functioned.
The crowd was small and fairly OK, but the dregs of the Shoreditch "to be seen" movement were out in force. Much of the early evening was spent watching everybody else watching everybody else.
The actual venue could only hold 100 probably, so it didn't take much for the dance floor to fill up. Special mention should go out to one woman who had a most peculiar dance style - put this way, she'd have been better off if she could do the robot rather than the near fit-like spasms and pretensions she was pulling. But I digress.

The group I was visiting with gave up the ghost before some of the bigger name showed up (that is, of the names who were actually *going* to turn up.)

I took a stroll from Shoreditch to Traf Square, met no problems, although I did find myself outside Fabric Live, where I knew a good time could be had. I chose not to venture in - on budgetary grounds. It was not an easy decision.

On the night bus home I had a right geezer chatting about how 'sound' his night was and how he could blag anything. Quote of journey had to be, in cockney-geeza: "So there he was [some guy called simon] wiv' one-a these birds on'is lap and he's givin'it all the billy big boots to this taxis driver, anI'm like - fuck me, hold up John [not sure why he called everyone john] this driver's dropping me off in Kings Cross an'he's doin' it for free like..." I could go on, as he did, but it tires me to. So I won't. If Mike Skinner hadn't already done it, it'd be quite amusing.

Rest of weekend spent watching, in order of quality, best first:
Solaris
Love Lisa
Midnight Run
Spider.
Which was nice.
Cheers to Brooks's (Snr & Jnr), Smythe (Keeping it real and breakin' the law), Steve, Alecia and Mart-taine and Mr Blockbuster all of whom made my weekend enjoyable.

Fly Casual Chewie.

Got a view? What a voice? Let me know

posted by E! @ 10:13 AM

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Life in the Lost Lane.

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