17-year-old writer Billie JD Porter passes on the sage-like learnings she’s garnered each week, as she combs through the mangled mess of shindigs and hoohahs that is the ‘new music scene’. Then shits all over it.
Lesson 1: Make sure you pack ample reading/viewing/gaming material when ‘on the road’
I recently got back from the French leg of The Virgins’ European tour. Almost Famous forgot to include the 12 hour drives with no power where all you wish for is a game of Monopoly or the longest book in history. Getting stoned in the dark is fun for sure, but maybe tourbuses should come with a selection of board games and a pack of cards AS A RULE.
One thing that I found passed the time was spanking brick walls and making derogatory comments as though I was taking advantage of some firm-assed chick walking down the street. The Virgins’ support band, So So Glos were the only people who also found solace in my fun activity, and we spent a long time spanking the walls in their dressing room; ‘YEAH BITCH, NEVER FELT AN ASS THAT TIGHT HAVE YOU? HUH??’ Touring is fun.
So So Glos come to London in a couple of weeks – they’ll be hitting the Barfly, Macbeth and the Old Blue Last. They rock:
Lesson 2: Kap Bambino are still one of the best live bands around
My favorite frogs, Kap Bambino came to London to launch their new single ‘Batcaves’ the other night at The Old Blue Last. They never cease to amaze me with their live performances and only seem to get better every time I see them. Regardless of whether or not you’re a fan of the band, I think its near impossible to deny that their energy onstage is pretty fackin’ entertaining.
They were joined by fellow Bordeaux band Hello Sunshine. They’re a two-piece that sound like a pop-punk band that have never rehearsed. In a good way. Their performance seemed to confuse and interest the crowd at the same time but they are, in the words of Carolina Bambina, ‘no fucking bullshit’. Couldn’t have described it better myself.
Lesson 3: Stop ‘speaking your mind’
I didn’t really know what to expect from club kid-come-journalist Princess Julia’s band Oral Oral, who played at Catch last night. The set consisted of the 50 year old Julia standing behind a speaker, smacking a Tom and shouting things along the lines of ‘DON’T LISTEN. DON’T SPEAK. DON’T EVEN BREATHE – WAR… IT NEVER ENDS’. Fucking deep.
Maybe I can’t pass judgement on the performance as I don’t have an extensive knowledge on spoken word and its position in music, but from where I’m standing, as open-minded as the Shoreditch crowd tend to be, this just didn’t seem to be the right time or place for a series of political slurs or moaning sounds. An interesting move from someone with a very interesting history…
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