Bagel of Love

“Fuck Auckland!” says Chris from the Shrugs.
“Fuck Auckland and fuck ironic mullets!” says Robyn.

Ok, so some very cool friends of mine are going to London on Monday and were having farewell drinks at the (not inappropriately chosen) London bar. There was lager and mushy peas (not as good as the mushy peas from that pie cart in Newcastle, but still quite good), and good company and a jazz band. What’s a white boy jazz band doing playing at the London bar?

After a few hours the remaining hardcore went to the Kings Arse. The exciting thing about the ‘Arse (apart from the fact that the Shrugs were playing) was that the ceiling has been raised, and the stage has been enlarged and raised. It’s, like, a proper rock venue, man.

There was a band playing, but I can’t remember their name. Their bass player threw his bass in the audience, but didn’t seem particularly angry. Next was Rawer. They were really loud. So loud that – and this is the first time I’ve ever done this – I went outside to get away from the noise. Actually, I have done that before. When I was about two years old I went outside during my brother’s christening complaining “much noise! much noise!”. All those horrible people singing horrible hymns.

But tonight the good people known as the Shrugs were making the good music. There were quite a few covers in the set, and they should have done more originals, they especially should have played “The Hollies” cos that just rules. But they played “Exhibit B” and that was so bloody good. I love the Shrugs so much.

Next was Xanadu. They have one of those strap-on keyboard things. I thought those were banned in the ’80s, but it turns out they’re still around. Xanadu managed to make the strap-on keyboard thing sound like a guitar sometimes. They seemed to have lots of girl fans. Very good.

I want a bagel. A bagel of love.

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