I was in the Pitcher and the Piano after an SYP speaker meeting with Nicholas Clee of Bookseller fame, and with Henning Menkel’s agent! Hurrah. Clee was a little unsteady, and not from the booze; this unsteadiness appeared to be his general demeanour. They play some random music in there, for sure. And the flipping FA had reserved upstairs for a private party! I bet Steve McLaren wasn’t there though.
In the Heat: the Howards End conundrum. How many, how many of those that dangle friendship and take it away? So exhausting, so damaging, so downright heart-rending in the small, quotidien way. Why do you people keep doing it?
Wearing shorts to work for the first time, but stop short of flip-flops. In the blazing heat, work turns up the air con so it’s actually cold in the office. Bizarro. It is any real surprise that the streets are baking hot outside when all the offices are pumping their excess heat onto the sidewalks/pavements of London Town? Glare factor maximum. People still rushing around like it was a temperate British Spring. Slow down … You can’t maintain the breakneck pace in this heat.
The new Keane album. Promised much, didn’t really deliver. Same with the Muse album, although it’s excellent in parts. Sadly, it’s at its best when it’s imitating Depeche Mode. When it veers back to operatic rock, like on ‘Knights of Cydonia’, it’s good at best. My band’s working on some songs for our gig on the 23rd August at Turnmills. Would be nice to see some of you there, though, you know, it’s a fiver, so I won’t hold you to it. There’s a few new songs up on Myspace.
The heat hasn’t quelled my restlessness. Nor has having all my music on one big giant Creative Zen:M music player.
“Was Mrs Wilcox one of the unsatisfactory people — there are many of them — who dangle intimacy and then withdraw it? They evoke our interests and affections, and keep the life of the spirit dawdling round them. Then they withdraw. When physical passion is involved, there is a definite name for such behaviour — flirting — and if carried far enough it is punishable by law. But no law — not public opinion even — punishes those who coquette with friendship, thought the dull ache that they inflict, the sense of misdirected effort and exhaustion, may be as intolerable. Was she one of these?”
— Chapter 10, Howards End, E. M. Forster
I didn’t get home night. I got on the night bus at 4 a.m., fell asleep on it, woke up in Romford and caught the bus to work. I feel rough.