The Voice of London Episode VIII

First let me get my complaints about the Cat Power show out of the way so I can end on a good note. Even before I do that I should clarify that my complaints have nothing to do with Chan Marshall or her performance (besides the fact that she didn't play Good Woman, but you have to accept that musicians aren't always going to play your favourite songs when you see them live [especially when they're touring for a different album]). My complaints have to do with some of the people in attendance. There were some taller people standing ahead of me and obstructing some of my view, though I don't really blame them for that. The people I blame for making the experience worse than it should have been were the two fuckwads who stood directly in front of me. If they had just been standing there enjoying the show it wouldn't have been so bad, but they were continually leaning to towards each other to talk and blocking the one clear line of sight that I had. I don't really want to get into it any more than that (I've already given them more attention than they deserve) but about halfway through I did manage to get in front of them and was able to enjoy the concert much more after that. Before I move on to the show itself I'll mention something else about the audience. According to Chan, she said she saw Clive Owen and his wife in attendance, but I'm not sure if she was being facetious. I wasn't lucky enough to spot him. I would like to have, though. I've kind of got a crush on Clive Owen. Anyway, the show started out with the backing band (the Memphis Rhythm Band) coming out and doing an instrumental warm-up jam before going into the opening bars of The Greatest, at which point point Chan came out and the performance began. The show was divided into three separate sets. The first was with the band and was comprised of selections from the new album which Chan had a curious tendency to mime while singing. After this the band went off and she was by herself with a piano or guitar. During this set she performed a cover of House of the Rising Sun in her characteristic slowed-to-a-crawl style, which I would consider one of the night's highlights. The band came back again for the third and best set where they played a rendition of Satisfaction that was actually more faithful to the original than the one on The Covers Record, and a suped up version of Cross Bones Style before ending on Love and Communication. The encore consisted of a solitary performance of Paths of Victory. And thus was another band crossed off my list of groups to see live.
I was able, after some waiting, to get in to see the Like. The show was at the 100 Club, a fairly famous venue, or so is my understanding. I guess the Sex Pistols played there back in the seventies. Anyway, the opening band was called Clocks. They were alright; tight, but not especially exciting. The Like were awesome, though. Those are three hot rock chicks, ah tell yoo hwut. There was no encore, but they played my favourite songs, June Gloom and Once Things Look Up, so I was alright with that.
On Friday I checked out of the hostel and went over to my new accommodations. I met Fred, the French fellow sharing my room. He seems a nice enough chap. I didn't stay that long because, unable to procure Gnarls Barkley tickets for myself (disappointing) and Sufjan Stevens being sold out (very disappointing), I decided to use my return ticket and head back to Norwich to gather my things for moving and make preparations with Dan for our upcoming trip.
Saturday I spent washing clothes and just hanging out. Danny and his mom went to Manchester for the weekend and won't be back till Sunday. During the afternoon I watched a movie adaptation of the comic strip Asterix and Obelix with Gerard Depardieu as Obelix and Monica Bellucci (who has possibly the best cleavage in the world) as Cleopatra. It was actually quite funny. I normally hate dubbing, which this was from the French, but there was a point where a character is listing his life goals and says he wants to move his lips in French and have the words come out in English that made me laugh so I stuck with it. I don't think it would have been better subtitled.
Now it's Sunday, the fifth of November, Guy Fawkes Day. In the morning I went to the library to read comic books. I finished the first volume of The Authority by Warren Ellis, pretty good stuff. Then I read Batman: Year One by Frank Miller. It was this book that provided much of the inspiration for Batman Begins. The second act anyway. After that I bought some groceries for supper and cooked myself a pizza to eat while I watched Fletch. When darkness fell the fireworks started sporadically. I finished the last few chapters I had left of Jack Kerouac's The Dharma Bums and went for a walk to watch (or more often just hear) the fireworks. It seems that actual bonfires of this Bonfire Night are happening outside of walking distance, especially in the chill autumn air with only a hoodie. Still, the fireworks, whose popping persists still, is probably more than I would have gotten in my area of London.

Syzygetically yours,
Matthew Hawkins

The Voice of London Episode VII

Last night (Sunday) I went to see Red Road at the local cinema. The film itself is about a woman who works for the city of Glasgow monitoring the many CCTV cameras. One day she sees a man who she thought was in jail after being responsible for the deaths of her husband and daughter (although this doesn't become apparent until later). She becomes a bit obsessed and starts following him. What I find more interesting than the story, though, is the background behind the film itself. Apparently it's part of a project proposed by Lars von Trier and some others involved in the Dogme 9 film movement where three different directors are given a group of characters, to be played by the same actors in each of their films, and each develop a different film around them. While Red Road was certainly well acted and skillfully directed, I felt as though the story was a bit familiar. I've heard comparisons to Read Window, but other than the voyeuristic aspect I didn't find that to be a particularly accurate comparison. I'd be interested to see the other two films that result from this experiment. Comparisons to them would be much more intriguing.
On Monday I had some difficulty reaching anyone to inquire about rental prospects. Not wanting to just sit around the hostel I decided to pass some time waiting for new postings on Gumtree and people's availability by taking a trip to the Tate to look into some updates to the information I provided in Episode III about pieces I found interesting. I was unable to find the photograph that I really liked so another trip will be warranted. Plus, I haven't gone down the slides yet (look it up, it's a piece by Höller). The video I mentioned with the little girl reading Wittgenstein is apparently untitled, but I found it was done by photographer Gary Hill. The four screen musical video piece is called, appropriately, Video Quartet and is by Christian Marclay. Of the photographs that I did find that I liked, I can name the following: Balconies by Alexander Rodchenko, Siena (2) and Siena (3) by Olivo Barbieri, Man with Objects, Wall by Erwin Wurm, and Untitled Film Still #27 by Cindy Sherman. A couple of the (many) paintings I liked include Portrait of a Young Woman by Meredith Frampton and Man with a Newspaper by Rene Magritte. The latter makes me wonder if it would qualify as belonging to the medium of comics as well as painting.
Speaking of painting, today I discovered the identity of the Lac du Bonnet thrift store mystery portrait. It seems the man who has graced the walls of three CUIF member residences is the subject of a very popular painting entitled The Laughing Cavalier by Frans Hals. I had the privilege of seeing the original which is part of the Wallace Collection here in London and is much more colourful than the reproduction that hung for so long in the kitchen of the Warsaw House.
In less art-related news, I am now officially a resident of the City of London. I paid my deposit and first month's rent for a bed in a room with two other guys (one from France, one from Poland) in a flat with a couple of girls that is about a five minute walk from King's Cross Station. Rent is £260 per month, bills inclusive. Anyone wanting to write me letters or mail me money can send them to
9a Wicklow Street
London
WC1X 9HL
I recommend not sending anything right away though, as I'll be traveling much of this month and won't be there regularly. So hold off until Christmas or something.
I learned today (or was reminded) that Yo La Tengo is playing in London on the eleventh of November, which will mean I am going to miss the show as a result of being in Amsterdam. Fortunately I got an opportunity to see them tonight instead. Granted, they weren't playing music but I'll take what I can get. What they were doing was speaking about their work in film (the event was part of the BFI London Film Festival). I only learned a few hours beforehand that the event was taking place but when I got down to the National Film Theatre there were still tickets available, so it's turned out to be a pretty good day for me. Now if I can just get Cat Power tickets for tomorrow...
And I did! I'm going to see Cat Power tonight. Tomorrow I'm going to try to get The Like tickets at the door, so my attendance at that show is less certain but if I can get in there and then into Gnarls Barkley on Sunday this'll be like the best week ever.
Finally, I'd like to ask my readership to reply with their mailing addresses. Since I've given you mine it seems only fair. But more specifically it's because I found some postcards that I think would be appropriate for a few particular people. I'm not going to reveal who these people are but I'm confident they will reply. If anyone else sends their address I'll find something for them too.

Parsimoniously yours,
Matthew Hawkins

The Voice of London Episode VI

I'm back in London one more time. Hopefully this is the last time I'll have to make the trip in except to come home. I'm staying at Palmer's Lodge again for five days. That should give me enough time to do some apartment searching in earnest. With any luck I'll find a suitable place by the end of the week and my return to Norwich can be to gather my stuff and get into my new place before Danny and I head to Amsterdam. Oh yeah, I guess I should mention that the other two places I looked at didn't pan out. The good one because they apparently rented it to someone else, the other one by my choice. I'm confident I'll be able to find a place in a better location that I'll enjoy living in more. And another thing I didn't mention, which I'm told lost its status of secrecy a while ago, is that Danny has wussed out and will be returning to Winnipeg on the 15th or the 16th or the 17th. I'm not really sure. His returning flights take about three days or something, so it could be any of those. I still encourage anyone willing and able to make the journey to come and visit me, but it is less likely that I will be able to put you up during your stay.That said, I am turning once again to the subject of music. Taking inspiration from the AV Club (aka the Onion AV Club, aka www.avclub.com) I have decided to model this Voice of London (or section thereof) after on of their weekly features entitled Random Rules, wherein they "ask some of [their] favorite people to set their MP3 players to shuffle and comment on the first few tracks that come up—no cheating or skipping embarrassing tracks allowed." As such I am now going to set my iPod to shuffle and write down the thoughts that come to me while listening to the songs that come up.

1) Do Make Say Think - The Apartment Song
Chances are that many of the songs that come up are going to be from albums that I downloaded and never got around (or never bothered) to listen to. This would be one of those. It's from the album Goodbye Enemy Airship the Landlord Is Dead and appears to be an instrumental track. I have listened to Winter Hymn Country Hymn Secret Hymn but this one kind of escaped my attention.

2) The Beta Band - Troubles
And another one. This is from Heroes to Zeros. I downloaded this album because I'm a bit of a completist and like to have as much of a band's catalogue (or at least the good parts) as I can.

3) Kaizers Orchestra - Auksjon (I Dieter Meyers Hall)
Kaizers Orchestra is cool. They sound like a rock band playing carnival music. But not like Kiss' Psycho Circus type of carnival, like the midway music at a post-apocalyptic Norwegian carnival.

4) The Blacktop Cadence - Sad Passing Shame
Blacktop Cadence are one of several offshoots (along with Rumbleseat and The Draft) of Hot Water Music. I'm pretty sure this (Chemistry for Changing Times) is the only album they produced, and strangely it doesn't have their best song, A Cold Night in Virginia.

5) Edan - Funky Voltron
Graham recommended Edan to me. As I recall he's a producer from Boston and his album Beauty and the Beat is quite awesome.

6) Fantomas - Investigation of a Citizen Above Suspicion
Named after a fictional French villain, Tim Friesen had me download this along with Tomahawk because they were both formed by or with Mike Patton. This album is interesting because it's mostly covers of movie themes, but being a Mike Patton project they're made much weirder.

7) Blur - Mellow Song
I bought their self-titled album back when Song 2 was a big hit. I like the rest of it, but haven't gotten around to listening to this album or Parklife much yet.

8) Primus - To Defy the Laws of Tradition (Reprise)
This is a short instrumental track. The best song on the album (Frizzle Fry) is Toys Go Winding Down. On their DVD Hallucinogenetics they play the whole album live and it kicks ass. Would've been a pretty cool show to be at.

9) Le Tigre - It Tour Theme
Feminist Sweepstakes is probably my least favourite Le Tigre album. I like their other two albums though.

10) Kanye West - The New Workout Plan
The first time I did this song at karaoke was one of the best songs I've ever done. The audience got into the handclaps at the end and everything. I never could top that performance. Good times.

Join us next week when the Voice of London will be modeled after Dan Savage's sex advice column Savage Love. I'm lying of course, but if you send me your weird sex stories I'll be sure to edit out most of the identifying details when I republish them.

Syntaxically yours,
Matthew Hawkins

The Voice of London Episode V

The time is 4:00 and I am in London. I came in to look at some prospective places for rental. Right now I am in a bar called Rowley's having a pint of Carling. When I'm done here I'll be going down the street for my first appointment. I saw the posting for it last night and made a call from a payphone after arriving in the city to inquire about it. It is a room share with two girls. Their post indicated that they were considering male roommates but I suspect they would prefer a female. That's working against me, but I hope I can convince them of my suitability because the location of the place is perfect. It's actually within walking distance of the British Museum and the British Library. The rent is a bit high (£230 per month plus bills), but for such a great location it would be more than worth it. I don't imagine they'll be making their decision immediately though, so after I'm done there I'll be going to check out a another place in Croydon. The location isn't ideal but the rent is better: £45 per week, bills included. Hopefully one of the two places will work out. I'm not sure what I'm going to do this evening. I didn't book myself a bed at a hostel or anything. My train leaves for Norwich tomorrow at 4:30. My plan was basically to stay awake until then but I don't know what I'm going to do to pass the time. I'll probably take in a movie at some point, but that will only take up a couple hours and probably won't carry me to later than midnight or so. Well, it'll be an adventure.
I met Stella (one of the girls I'd be sharing a room with) and she showed me the flat. It's awesome. There's a nice big kitchen. At least, it's big compared to the last kitchen I had. They have a small, but comfortable looking lounge (aka living room) and a bathroom with a shower (an important feature). Stella seems very nice, and I don't doubt that Genie (the other girl sharing the room) is too. Apparently there are two other girls that share another room in the flat. I imagine it would take some adjustment to go from never having lived with a girl (since moving out of my parents' and not counting the time staying with aunts) to living with four, but after being surrounded by testosterone for five years a little estrogen might be a good thing. It definitely seems better than the alternative. It took a half hour train ride to get out to my other prospect. I'm guessing Angela and Louis, the people I contacted about the place, are the owners. They're from Brazil and, while they are certainly friendly and welcoming, they're older than me by about ten years at least, as are most of the other residents it seems. Their place is a fair bit smaller (per person anyway) and just flat out does not make me as enthusiastic as the other option. The only real advantage is that they actually offered me the spot, so I'm basically guaranteed a place if I want it. I really hope I don't have to settle.
I'm sitting at Westminster Pier looking out across the River Thames at the London Eye. A little while ago I got out from seeing The Queen. It was the only movie playing at midnight that I had any interest in seeing. Speaking of movies and seeing, guess who I saw this evening. That's right. Billy Zane. He was coming out of a screening of Stranger Than Fiction at the BFI London Film Festival. I was wandering around Piccadilly Circus and started making my way towards the square with all the cinemas when I saw a crowd gathered outside the Odeon West End. Not having anything better to do I decided to join the crowd. I gathered fairly quickly that they were waiting for celebrities exiting the screening but I had no idea who they were expecting. I overheard a rumour that Dustin Hoffman was in attendance. This piqued my interest and I decided to stick around. I'm not sure exactly how much time passed. It wasn't terribly long but some people did get impatient and left. I hung in there, though I did put my camera away after a while. I'm not horribly disappointed that I did. It would have been worth getting a shot of the star of Straw Dogs and Rain Man. I'm satisfied with the memory of glimpsing the star of The Phantom and Dead Calm. So there's a couple more hours before the Underground opens again. I guess I'll wander around London some more.
I wandered for about an hour and a half and I'm back at the pier. I figure this is a good enough place to wait for the morning. The benches are relatively comfortable and it seems like it'll be a good place to watch the dawn. The parliament buildings are off to my right and the aquarium is directly across the river. When I was walking through Westminster I passed by the very same bus stop outside the Sherlock Holmes pub where I waited three years ago and read Keep the Aspidistra Flying. While wandering I found no fewer than five full, unbroken cigarettes on the ground. One I found then gave to some guy who asked if I had an extra cigarette. The other four I found together and haven't been asked for another cigarette yet.
It's twenty to ten now. I'm at a restaurant in Liverpool Street Station having breakfast and I am fucking exhausted. I'm not really regretting the whole staying up all night because I don't have a place to stay, but I do really wish I had purchased an earlier return ticket so I wouldn't have to wait another six and a half hours for my train. I'm too tired to go out and do anything. All I want to do is sleep. There aren't even any good benches I could take a nap on. And even if there were, it's chilly enough to make falling asleep difficult. I absolutely cannot wait to get on the train and sleep. And then get home and sleep some more.
I probably won't be able to walk properly for about a week after this. I don't know how many miles I've walked in the last thirty hours, but I'm sure it's a lot. My hip joints hurt. The real problem is that I have to keep walking. If I sit for too long not doing anything I start nodding off which, though I desperately want to do it, just isn't practical right now. There's less than two hours left in this hellish countdown so it's feeling more and more manageable. I was thinking a good name for a band would be the Cripplefoot Pigeons. Or just Cripplefoot Pigeons. Or Cripplefoot something else. It came to me when I noticed that many of the pigeons hanging around the station have deformed or damaged feet. Several of them stand on one foot when they are not walking around. Anyway, I thought of the word Cripplefoot and it had a nice ring to it. I guess you could call a band Cripplefoot, but I prefer the word as an adjective.
I think the sleep deprivation broke my brain. At least temporarily. About an hour into the train ride home I was awoken by some other people in the car playing some sort of trivia game. Whenever they asked a question I felt compelled to think of the answer but the only thought that would enter my head was a kind of strange, crumpled notion. It was like mental vomit. It actually felt like my mind was throwing up. I had to say a repetitive phrase in my head over and over to keep from having this distressing, compulsive thought. Anyway, that was one of the stranger experiences of my life and not one I'd particularly care to repeat. I hope the slowly increasing frequency (and length) of these emails isn't outstripping the pace at which people are able to read them. Wait. No. I don't care if they're doing that. I'll send the next one as soon as I want. Cheers.

Epithelially yours,
Matthew Hawkins