Musical Monday #24

Sunday was a very strange day. A couple of months back, my friend Rhys sent me a text message to tell me that Suicide Bid and Essex punk band The Filaments (whom after they split up helped form Suicide Bid) were playing a gig called the City Invasion tour. It was a kind of all-day indoor punk rock festival at the Astoria, in London.

I was taken by surprise as I'd not heard about it, and expected our friend Pete who is in both bands to have mentioned it first. Just the same, I booked my ticket -- being sure to only book one this time, to avoid the drama of trying to find someone to take my spare, and thought no more of it. In between booking the ticket and this weekend, Rhys has been on holiday for about four weeks so we hadn't had any opportunity to discuss arrangements for the day. When he returned on Saturday, we exchanged a few text messages regarding train times and how we were only really interested in seeing Pete's bands -- since there were several other bands also playing. I tried to ascertain an idea of running times from Pete and everything seemed fine.

Until Rhys sent me a message to say there was a change of plan: his ticket hadn't arrived. All the tickets for gigs he had been expecting and thought had arrived in reality hadn't -- he had a piece of paper relating to one gig to say they didn't have the tickets at that time, but nothing further. What he did to try and sort it out, I don't know -- but the upshot was, I was going on my own. And I didn't want to go on my own. Too late now to do anything about it, I figured I'd stick to the original plan -- watch Suicide Bid, watch the Filaments, then come home. The concert was also to be the final-ever UK show for NY hardcore punks Leftover Crack, but I knew nothing of them and wasn't too concerned about seeing them.

Sunday morning arrived with grey skies and torrential rain, and halfway thorugh walking to the station, I realised I didn't have my travelcard and had to return home for it and still hope to catch my train. So far, the day was shaping up well.

I arrived at the station just in time to see a "rail-replacement" bus leaving the car park. Due to Sunday engineering works, trains weren't running from my station and a sign advised passengers journeys could be delayed by an extra 30 minutes. I hadn't allowed for any of this, and if I didn't get to the gig for when Suicide Bid took to the stage at 4, I was going to very annoyed. For a change, luck was on my side, as another bus arrived soon after and with the connecting train I had made it to London for about 3.

At the gig I was left very much with a feeling of "what now?". I was there, but I was still very much on my own with nobody to talk to. Pete would be around somewhere, but I couldn't expect him to devote all his off-stage time to me and aside from this, it was very difficult to get a reception on my phone to try and send him a message to say I was in the venue.

The first band I saw (who I think were second or third on the bill) were called the Peacocks. At first, I didn't think too much of them -- they played well, but their music wasn't doing a lot for me. To their credit, they seemed to get better as they went on and I did end up enjoying their set. After they finished, I grabbed a beer from the bar, now my mood was improving, and decided to get closer to the stage for the next band. It wasn't long before I recognised it was Suicide Bid setting up for the their set -- though I resisted shouting out to Pete.

As ever, Suicide Bid played a great set -- although it wasn't as long as I would have liked, the timings were quite strict. Everyone seemed on top form, and I was reassured to see Laila K from Sonic Boom Six was with them to do her guest vocals, especially for my favourite song "Like a Lion".

Things got even better after Suicide Bid, when it was announced next on the bill was none-other than Sonic Boom Six. They hadn't even been on the line-up I'd seen, so I was amazed and surprised and of course very happy, since they were a band I knew and liked. I don't own any of their releases, and only have a few downloaded, but I dig their work -- and would have been very excited had I known all along they were playing. Again, their set was excellent.

Pete found me after they finished and we talked for a short while, before he made his excuses and left -- and I was again just feeling a bit lonely. The music was good, and while I enjoy my independence and being able to just do things on my own, sometimes it does get a bit lonesome with nobody to share them with. From where I was stood near the bar, I noticed a cute girl also apparently on her own, preoccupied with her mobile phone.

This girl seemed to have something most of the people in the venue didn't. For a start, she looked like she was older than about 12 -- unlike a lot of the fans (I've no idea why this is), she also wasn't wearing studded leather or sporting an ostentatious Mohawk. I was reminded of how I met Fiona at Glastonbury, just seeing a girl on her on and asking her the time -- even though I knew perfectly well what the time was. I also remembered trying the same tactic at Reading festival last year, although on that occasion I didn't end up getting to know the girl as she'd quickly established she was waiting at the wrong stage. Just the same, I thought it might be worth a go.

Finding the courage to speak to her was another matter. I ran through all the possible scenarios in my head, that she'd be rude, that she'd refuse to tell me the time, that she'd make some stupid comment like "time you got a watch", but figured I'd be no worse off. Then there were other obstacles to overcome -- like I didn't want to talk to her if anyone else was standing too close. And I didn't want to interrupt her if she was engrossed in a text message conversation. Eventually, I picked my moment -- she didn't look too preoccupied to mind being disturbed, and she was relatively open. So I made my move.

Politely, I just asked her if she knew what time it was -- and she wasn't rude, or unhelpful, or sarcastic, she obligingly told me the time. To start a conversation I asked her if she knew when the Filaments were playing -- this, too, I already knew as Pete had told me they would be on next (after some band whose name I can't remember now) as another band hadn't yet turned up, so the Filaments were going on early. This was more or less the same thing the girl told me. And so not to push my luck, I thanked her and left it there -- and stood a little way away.

Naturally, with her on her own and me on my own, she moved closer to me and kept the conversation going. We talked about music and I mentioned knowing Pete, and she was a big fan of the Filaments. She also had an interesting accent I couldn't quite place, and a kind of sparkle in her eyes, but anyway. We talked about nothing for a while, and were getting on well -- until she made her excuses, and left. She said she wanted to outside for a fag, since I didn't smoke, I told her sure, I'd wait there for her. I figured this would give the opportunity to give me the slip if she wanted to -- she could just not come back, and there'd be no hard feelings. I could have gone with her, but thought she might be able to use some space and we weren't close enough for me to justify following her wherever she went.

She was gone way too long for a simple cigarette. I didn't really keep track of how long she had been gone, but eventually I gave up on her coming back. No hard feelings, she'd been nice to meet and pleasant company, but this was just how things go sometimes. I wandered off to use the toilet and grab another drink from the bar. To my surprise when I got back, she was waiting there for me. She seemed pleased to see me -- maybe she'd thought I had ditched her? -- and from then we spent the rest of the show in each other's company, including just hanging out with her while she had a quiet cigarette. We'd talk about bands, most of whom I didn't know, and during each set she'd frequently turn to me with a smile while they were playing to see what I thought of them, and compare our opinions.

I introduced her to Pete later in the evening -- she was a big fan of his bands after all, and remarked how he was every bit the great guy I'd told her was. As we walked away -- off to the bar to get another drink -- Pete called my name. I looked round, and he smiled at me and nodded his head, as if to say "She's nice".

The girl's name was Claire (probably still is, I'd say) and she was living in Hackney -- I'm also fairly sure she mentioned having moved from Canada ten years ago, though I will have to ask her about this again. Rather than go home after The Filaments played, I stayed until the end -- through English punks The Business, who seemed a bit nationalistic for my liking, though Pete assures me he doesn't think it goes beyond just being patriotic. I think today's partial deafness is the responsibility of hardcore punks Conflict and headline act Leftover Crack. Claire was a fan of both, and was particularly enthusiastic about Leftover Crack.

After the show ended, the two of us caught the tube together since she was just going a few stops further than me. We sat and talked and I was aware that with every station I was one closer to getting off and not seeing her again. I had to ask for her number, but what if she said no? What if she said she had a boyfriend? I'd come this far and was determined not to just let her disappear. We both agreed we'd had a great night and the other was good company, so I nervously asked her for her number. She readily accepted, saying we'd have to keep in touch, so took my phone and typed it in.

Then it was my stop. We hugged goodbye (as well as you can, sitting down) and kissed on the cheek -- I got off the train, waved goodbye and set off for home.

It was about 2 hours after the show ended and a £20 taxi fare lighter that I got home. I sent Claire a message just to say I was home and we'd have to meet up sometime soon. Naturally, there was no response last night -- but I expected her to be asleep. There was also nothing this morning. I considered that maybe she'd made up a number to get rid of me, or perhaps mistakenly got it wrong -- but with no way of knowing or of contacting her, resolved not to worry too much. And as before, if that was where it ended, to be glad to have met her at all.

As I sat checking my emails this morning and wondering about her, my phone buzzed with a text from her. I replied, but I'm trying not to be too eager -- we're agreeing that we should meet for a drink again soon, and I guess we will just see where it goes from there.

And just to bring things back to topic, I'm making Musical Monday special today with two songs by two different bands. I've already featured Suicide Bid in posts at least twice, so I'll pass them over today. Instead you get the Filaments iconic song Punk Unity, and Northern Skies by Sonic Boom Six.