Wednesday, 11 January 2012

The Name of this band is

I've been away for a looooooong time, so this is going to be a looooooooong entry. Got a wonderful Christmas present from my boyfriend - a record player! Call it outdated, but the quality of vinyl is fantastic, and I can't help but love the artwork. Raiding charity shops for records has now become an interesting past-time. Stepping into a shop the other day, I found out that Bruce 'Die Hard' Willis had a musical career. I promptly handed the single to the girl at the counter. Her face crinkled up in confusion as she observed the record.
"This is a really big CD, you know that? Do you have a really really big CD player?"
Yep, those are my shoes. Yep, that's
Europe. Yep, that's Bruce Willis.
Work also decided to not keep me on a permanent contract. So I'm going to be doing pretty badly for money in a few weeks. But at least I still have my soul intact. I also had a wonderful party to celebrate my 'happy vagina escape day' and I saw the 'Iron Lady' today. I didn't really care about it enough to do a negative blog review, but it taught me that being old will be like getting high - people who aren't there appear in your room, you move more slowly than usual, and you don't have a fucking clue what is going on.

I've wanted to join a band for quite a while now. I love listening to music far too much, and I've been playing the bass for about 2-3 years. And in actual fact I've attempted to join two bands. On both occasions I never went back a second time. In the most recent case, I responded to a ad from a soft rock band that needed a bassist. Without dressing it up, they scared me shitless because they knew what they were talking about when it came to writing and performing music. Needless to say I shat myself, ignored their e-mails and never saw them again.

But my first attempt at joining a band was slightly different. I remember being at my parents for the summer, bored as fuck. So I decided to look up band adverts on different websites. I was quite sad at this point. Sad as in pathetic, because I often just looked at ads, fantasized myself joining that band, never replying. That day was a little different, because some post-punk band that were influenced by Joy Division wanted to start a band. They were only a couple of years older than me. Not only did I love Joy Division like a little puppy (a depressed little puppy that sung about isolation and death), but their bass lines could be played by absolutely anyone. I couldn't deduce much more after phoning one of the guys, bar the fact that he had an extremely thick Glaswegian accent, but we nevertheless met up the next day. We took a train to a part of the city where the number of abandoned buildings and wasteland increased with every stop. He turned out to be very pleasant and interesting to talk to. I told him about the music I liked and the music festival I'd just been to. He told me about their cocaine loving lead guitarist who may or may not be in the band after disappearing without  a word for the last few days and how they'd stolen half their equipment. I thought he was amazing.

"Haha, no there's eh...there's? There is, haha, nothing
wrong with? With! With me, I'm just a little...tired"
Everything looked very promising for the first couple of hours. I was able to play with two other people pretty well. They seemed amazed that I could play Rock the Casbah, and I was amazed by the fact that they could actually write songs. There was no mumbo jumbo I couldn't understand; they simply pointed to the notes I had to play and talked me through it. Things started to deteriorate a few hours in, when I realised I wasn't used to playing for a long period of time at all. My fingers gave out during the songs, and the booze we were all drinking really wasn't helping matters. After that I remember getting very high. I remember them putting me on a couch and getting worried because I laughed without stopping for about half an hour. And I remember getting a bag of marshmallows, and reassuring my mother that I'd be home soon over the phone. It was probably one of the best days of my life. It's a shame they didn't give me another chance, because we got on well and I could have improved. Oh well.

Joining a band, or at least, doing something musical is one of my aims this year. I'm not quite sure what it is, but I better start making a decision soon rather than leaving it to fate. Thinking about it, I've only got about two months of rent + living money so I better get shit sorted then. However, I have some Turkey Dinosaurs in the oven, so it can wait for the time being.

What I'm currently listening to > \Veckatimest - Grizzly Bear/

Thanks for reading!

P.s - I'm on twitter now (@ squidcereal)


  1. Alcohol and extended jam sessions can either go really well or really poorly. I'd call them up in a day or two and ask if you can give it another shot.

    Good to see you back, calamari!

  2. My parents have a record player, but they won't let me take it and use it. No, they'd rather keep it locked in storage, collecting dust. Makes sense, right?

    I've always wanted to join a band, but I guess I'm too insecure since I don't know the first thing about musical theory. I can't even read music. I just play by ear. Which would make me feel stupid in a room full of people penning out specific notes.