@uspic¡ous Fish¿!
Delirious With Weird

 
Tuesday, September 07, 2004  
Where I've Been...


Football last Wednesday saw me score a rambunctious hat trick, bundling Nigel over at least a couple of times and surging towards goal like a bloody-minded Ronaldo (only shit, obviously [although I may well be as fit as him, given his penchant for pies and discos {what am I saying? I have a penchant for pies and discos too!}]). Shoulder barges have never been something I’ve gone in for before, but let’s face it, my lower half is all muscle and my upper half is all beer; if I set myself I can knock almost anyone over.

Thursday was Cath’s memorial tournament (she’s leaving Exeter University for Leeds). Only three of us in the English Classics team had played together before, and in the first game (against Cath’s team) it showed – our opposition had been playing together as a team for a couple of years, plus the boasted Danny & Alasdair, who may be old but can both PLAY (Danny especially – he’s as good as, if not better than, my brother, who is himself very bloody good). We got stuffed five nil. Next game we came back, I found my aim in the second half, terrified the keeper with my rasping, velocity-charged shooting, scored two and we won 3-0. Third game was against Tony’s team, Tony being probably almost as good technically as Danny but about twice the size. We forced a 0-0 and were pleased. The third-and-fourth-place playoff was against the team we’d beaten 3-0, but by this time heat, fatigue and aimlessness were kicking in. We won 1-0 and then went home.

Friday I left the house at 8am and was in Shepherd’s Bush by 1.30pm, pint of shandy and off to J’s hotel, where I’ve slept on the floor and boozed in the bar until 2am after Embrace gigs in the dim and distant past, when I was a ligger and a lunatic. It’s not called The Kensington anymore though, it’s now K West (probably because it’s not actually IN Kensington). Ate pizza with J and Karim (Sloppy Giuseppes all round, and several bottles of Nastro) before heading to the pub. Played football for about 30 second with the rest of the gathered Embrace fans on the green (just long enough to chip a lofted pass onto someone’s head for them to score), said Hello to some old friends and acquaintances, watched Embrace do four songs acoustically on the green before the gig, and then headed backstage with J & Karim to interview the band.

It’s seven years since I first interviewed them (for my old fanzine, back in my pre-net days), and three years since I last saw them live and to talk to. There was a… Not a falling-out, but a severe loss of faith, and some accusations levelled at the band by me, about stringing us along, about making promises they could never keep, about letting people down. But that’s all past. Out Of Nothing has fulfilled a lot of promises. But you can read all about this on Stylus next week. I haven’t even got the tape of the interview yet (J videoed it, some footage will be streamed on www.embrace.co.uk), and the article is already 3,600 words long. I want to have it 3,000 long by the time I’m finished. I mean I could go on forever, but that’s not the right approach. Keep it tight, taut, and hard-hitting. Best thing I’ve ever written.

Saturday was travelling, panicking (my bag got left in the dressing room and then stolen by the tour manager and dumped on the tour bus, leaving me with £2 and a camera in London and fuck-all else [apart from wonderful friends and a fucking evil hangover]). Then Saturday was drinking champagne with Emma and getting 58 on the Test The Nation Popular Music quiz thing, which = “musical genius” in any age group.

Sunday was football, five-a-side tournament again, for charity, organised by my brother. Conditions (mental, physical and environmental) were against us. Lost 0-3 and then drew 0-0 twice, hottest day of the year (or it felt like it), badly organised (by my brother, who I was not happy with). Sunday was also writing the aforementioned article.

And tonight is football again, for an hour and a half, and my body is still crumpled and sore because I’ve not had time to recover from anything.

I need to sack everything off this instant, get out, follow a dream, etcetera. I like ligging and I’m fucking good at it. I like promoting music I love and I’m good at it. I’m not arsed about self-expression (yet). I do need to do something more exciting.

Where do we go from here?

NJS

9/07/2004 09:11:00 am

3 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous - 11:28 am

I take it net-jetting doesn't appeal to you then?

Mary x

 
Blogger Nick - 1:42 pm

It's a nice idea but I don't know where I'd go or what I'd do. That's the thing, I don't know what I want to do at all right now.

 
Anonymous Anonymous - 9:23 pm

You seem to have really enjoyed your recent Embrace experience. Why not do something about it. you know what you like, you know what field that lies in. go do it.

Pick up the bat, head for the crease.

 

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Nick Southall is Contributing Editor at Stylus Magazine and occasionally writes for various other places on and offline. You can contact him by emailing auspiciousfishNO@SPAMgmail.com


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