Stop talking rot.

A few days ago I played a show at the Southampton Homestead, a big Victorian detached house. There’s a large conservatory in the back where acoustic shows happen a bunch of times a year. One of the charming current residents Harry “if you were so lucky” Mega Games Two described it pretty accurately as ‘a place which has all the benefits of a squat but you have to pay rent’.

That place is a blast. I’ve only stayed round a couple times and they’ve always been too much fun. This night was no different; Apologies, I Have None, Sam Russo and Mega Games Two absolutely killed it and it was one of those nights that make your insides sink when you’re head’s numb at class/work.

I drank a lot of K and pear cider, took some prescribed muscle relaxation pills and got an ‘A,IHN’ tattoo by Russo and a needle at 4 am when I was in my boxers reading the editorials of a porn mag sitting next to a sleeping person. Wow that was a mouthful.

Needless to say, A,IHN’s Dan “where are your sleeves?” Bond sums up the Homestead better than I could here.

Last night I got a Facebook message from a guy who helped out my old band a fair bit, despite not liking our band all that much; I’m sure that doesn’t make too much sense and that it sounds like he could have wanted something in return (cars, maisonettes, a song written about him?), but that’s just how rot rolls.
He said in the message that he heard that ‘my acoustic shit’ is pretty good.

I found it funny. I won’t be asking him for any help and won’t accept any if he offers, because I don't write songs to ask people to help me to push them.
That’s not the reason why I’m playing songs in my friends’ conservatories. That's why I'm having fun doing Cynics.
I would much prefer to keep things one-dimensional.

It’s simply more simple. Simple = fun. Simple. Simple is better. Now who’s playing next, I want to get drunk.

In a bit.