I have no time to write properly about the weekend in Brighton. It was great cheesy fun. Deep fried donuts and silly screaming on the rides, chilly sea winds, warm man, the sky on fire at dusk.
I have no time to write properly about the gig I went to on Monday at the Water Rats. Three bands: Mogul, The Bookoo Project, Calla. I was there to see Calla, expecting whispers and buzzing strings and bluesy moodiness. I got pulsing walls of sound and emphatic guitars. Worth far more than the £4 the gig cost, and also every penny of the two albums arriving soon in the post.
I have no time because it is now 3 AM. I have spent the last few hours giving my room a crash course in cleanliness. My sister arrives from Singapore at 6 AM, and we get on a train to the Lake District four hours later. (Note to self: some time before then, pack.)
So see you all on Monday, then, and have a good weekend. I expect mine will be muddy.