Ah. Stretch relaxing with a beer and in a world of MBM, for tomorrow night I will be in a bar completely devoid of colour. The people, pale imitations of who they wished they’d be. Drink so skanky that I’m getting the hangover before I even get there. Barstaff so sullen that they could appear at war crimes tribunals. The ambiance is one of decay, the lighting only there to show the walking dead to their tables. No music, because even the worst music would count as a soundscape unnecessary in this vaccuum of despair. A bar where the only women are those who couldn’t find the shelter for the night. The reminders of how hard (and brilliant) it was to get out, yet how easy it was for the others to stay bound. Sounds like a good night, yeah?
So, I’m going to listen to these two songs over and over until they jump into my head as a loop. Then, while sitting there listening to the rubbish, the overt sexism, the casual racism and the general glug glug glug of human experience, this monkey will sit with an electronic brain frying with sparks of madness and a posture of resignation, but hopefully they have bacon fries.
Wish me luck.