I forgot (because I was lost in the haze of memory) to say that yesterday, straight after coming back from the BBC, I went straight to Warner (not like the record label) Studios for a Scandal practice, for today's concert, our biggest one yet, headlining at Komedia.
We played with Leafcutter John, whom we much admired but when we met him we realised he was a bit of a dick. I heckled him as he played, which I'm kind of proud of, even though what I shouted wasn't very witty.
Inevitably I argued with my girlfriend beforehand. She refused to come. So I got stoned and was moody for this, the biggest gig of our lives. It went quite well. Lots of people came. At the end (my parents and my brother came) I was with my family and some guy came up and said how much he loved the gig, which made me feel like 'look mum, people admire me, people do like this kind of music'. He, the admirer, was a long-haired geeky enthusiast called Michael or something and he knew my girlfriend, was impressed by her Icelandicness. I fancied his girlfriend a lot. She had coloured hair.
There was a bit of an after party at Ed and James and Max's house. Ed's friend Pete was there, amongst others. Max's cousin Cathy was there and I was talking to her, fancying her, thinking that maybe she fancied me because she was interested in what I was saying, looking into my eyes and so on - but maybe that was just her way - and I was thinking how I would like to break out of my doomed relationship, with her. After playing a successful gig it's easy to think everyone fancies you.
Below is the picture of us that was on the front of the Komedia magazine. (look at the posing!) I couldn't find any better ones, i.e. of us in action. God, I wish I was successful and famous. I wish I wasn't trawling the internet for the fading traces of bands I used to be in.
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