Fool's Timing

Stiffened and a little embarrassed, a redhead stands alone in front of the mosaic wall. She looks quirky, yet with not enough confidence to pull it off as an effortless attempt. Perfectly round glasses frame her hazel eyes, as they scatter left and right. Perhaps she’s meeting someone here? 


A suede-gloved hand encases an almost-empty glass, almost too tightly, whilst the other fiddles furiously with her phone. The lady stands unnaturally and with anticipation, like a sprinter waiting for the whistle. A final nervous swig. She allows the alcohol dance upon her palette. She’d made it last for a distressful 37 minutes. 


The young woman’s ribcage rises abruptly, and down again, while her chin quivers subtly. The clink-clonk of her high heeled boots make a hurried rhythmic escape for the door. 


And so another broken heart begins its’ lonely walk home through London, as a young man, eyes wide and searching, makes his entrance into the Macbeth. He’s happy with his timing. He’s 20 minutes early. 

The Dance

On Carnaby Street, we do a dance. 

Hope, skip, click of our shoes.

We’re unaware of the story we’re telling. 

The street is alive as we merry our way to our destinations.

Possessed with generous anticipation.

The air hums as we revolve around one other

Shoulders clashing, pick-pockets snatching.

We twist and twirl as we weave and waver in and out of each other’s way. 

Some of the dancers journeys are not as important as others. 

We scurry and hurry our performance along the street. 

The pricey shops and polished pubs make for a wonderful stage. 

But waltzes become stumbles, and foxtrots become shoves.

Our show is coming to an end.

Darkness creeps in as the curtains fall, the pitter-patter dissolves. 

I curtsy to my fellow unsuspecting dance partners. 

They’ve removed their dancing shoes, the pantomime is over.

 The next unknowing cast sift their way through the paths.

Their cabaret begins, subconsciously and unknowing.

The stage of Carnaby will be filled, infinitely

The dance is never ending. 

Flying off the rail!

OK Im on slight rant mode, but who wouldn't be. 


While using a Portsmouth Harbour - Waterloo ticket today that I purchased on Mega Train, I decided to change at Guildford to shave 45 minutes off of my journey, (rather than going to Waterloo then back on myself for Epsom (my final destination). I made my way through the barrier at Guildford station to buy my ticket to Epsom, but -oh no - some middle aged sap with a dire lack of excitement in her life thought that I deserved a £33.80 fine for doing so.


Oh and contest, I did!!


After realising I was getting no where with this imbosile I paid the money and got on my next train - again, with another valid ticket and a severely bruised pride.


Since getting back to Epsom I've been on the phone to National Rail and Megabus who have both said this shouldn't have happened. But guess what, the woman sick on power didn't give me a receipt for my fine, meaning a) there's no proof I was given a fine, and b) there's no way that I can contest it.


Thank you very much National Rail, for the shit customer service, rude staff, lack of seats, astronomical prices (and rising), lack of security on late night trains, and for your general air of Great British arrogance.


This country is going to fucking pot.

SITES FOR PEOPLE WHO LIKE DATING AND MUSIC STUFF.

Ever thought, "Fuck me, I like music, where am I ever going to find someone else who likes music?" You have? Look no further. 

When you think of internet dating, what comes to mind? Lonely forty somethings looking for someone to do soduku with, who will also reassure them that they've still got a cracking rack? Well scrap that my impressionable friend, because all kinds of musicians and indie scenesters are jumping on the bandwagon (nothing new there then). 

Dating sites like MusicDating.com and tastebuds.fm (a sister site to lastfm – in case your simple mind failed to connect the two), are paving the desperate path for love-starved music fans. With an estimated 15 million singletons in the UK by 2011, the industry is going to be worth a mind-numbing £1 billion. It's no coincidence then that so many music dating websites are popping up and becoming noticed all of a sudden. There's seven options to choose from just on the first page of google.

So do people actually use these sites your asking? You weren't? Well I'll tell you anyway. Yes, they do. There are no statictics available for music dating solely, as the trend is so recent (we like to be the first to tell you about these things, dontchya know?). MusicDating.com have however divulged to us that they have almost 2000 weekly newsletter subscribers, with the average site-user being male and 32 years old.  

There are music dating sites for general music fans as well as for more niche followers. Bluegrassdating.com offers hearty companionship to country fans whilst classicalpartners.com matches you over your love of a Bach Chorale or two. Whilst researching we even found sites especially for Vampire obsessives and STD carriers – Gonorrhea anyone?

Overall, these sites are focusing on matching couples through their taste in bands. Taste.fm simply asks you to click on a band name, for a screen to come up with other scenesters – sorry members – who also consider themselves scenesters – sorry, fans – in your area. Once you've found someone you like the look of, you can send a high five or a wink to get the attention of your future wife/husband/fuck buddy. For those f you are are more traditional, you can send them a message too, with actual words. 

And apparently the system works. Steve and Nina met on MusicDating.com through a shared love for Belle and Sebastian. As the site explains, “Steve from the UK managed to get a job in the US near to where Nina lived, they started going to gigs together, fell in love and have been together ever since..” Bucket, please?

Forgetting the slushy stories, a huge 17% of couples who whined “I do” last year like Steve and Nina actually met on generic dating websites.

With huge success rates, it looks like music dating is only going to get bigger and – sigh – more mainstream. What with musicians pouring their hearts out on lonely hearts style ads, what will become of the music industry itself? Are we going to be bombarded with more lovesongs about 'Indie Cindy'?Sex, drugs and rock and roll will be a thing of the past. With one in five people currently in a relationship with someone they met on a dating site, we can expect a serious u-turn towards love, viagra and rock ballads. Watch out for a Meatloaf reunion. No seriously, that guy can deafen you for life.

Journalists are always meant to coin the name of a new trend when they write about it. But we couldn't be asked to think of one. So we're going for the people-who-like-music-and-are-also-looking-to-get-soooooome trend.

Britain's Next Top Model Live at XL

As someone who channel surfs and happens to stop on Living now and then to see a bit of BNTM, I never expected to go to the live event last Friday. However with a lecture cancelled at the last minute, Friday was crying out for a little day trip!


It was pretty damn good for £19. A free make over, massage, style and colour consulation were all included. And X factor hottie Diana Vickers was performing throughout the day, allowing me to have a good ol' perve! 


I was glad that I took the opportunity to ask around for work experience. I got contacts from Company and new Fashion site and model agency, Fashion Babylon. Run by fashion photographer Michael Bailey, he's organised a launch party at plush Kensington Roof Gardens. I'm very excited to have been invited personally, as he may have work for me writing model portfolios! The party's Friday and I've invited my lovely Canadian homegirl Alicia to come with me... I'll let you know how it goes! 

Do clothes wear us?

She wore a fur coat; the colour of ivory and the texture of heaven. A pitch-black mini-dress beneath it brought out the vibrancy of her lips - red like blood. 

Scarlet? Storm? She looked like she had a name that meant something; that carried weight. Whatever it was, she gracefully strutted past me with a glow of importance. She sauntered in what looked like a student loan’s worth of designer boot. 

Powerful. Icy. Contempt. These are all words that I associated with this woman. At that particular time. 

But who is to say she was all of these things? She could in fact be powerless, warm and anxious. She caused me to wonder; do we use fashion in order to lie? A persona created from fabric. When Scarlet/Storm arrived home, and donned a pair of slouchy pyjamas, was she still all of the things I imagined her to be?

Single review: El Matador, The Lines

Listening to ‘El Matador’ is similar to feeling like you’ve been somewhere before. Within the borders of their new single release, The Lines strive in an over-the-top manner to emulate Kasabian, but instead achieve themselves a poor man’s Reverend And the Makers comparison.

            El Matador strikes us with jangly guitars, confident vocal content and promising drum technique, giving us a tasteful change to the repeatative high hat and snare scenarios we hear in indie-dance tunes. However a cow bell appearance in the middle eight seems to remind us of a scene that we have already been excited about and gotten over.

            The song builds up to a climax that doesn’t quite reach it’s potential. The chorus lacks a catchy melody, and the buzz of the roughly-produced indie tune seems to have no origin.

Don’t get me wrong. On paper this is a song that ticks a lot of boxes, but there is a noticeable lack of depth and purpose. If this were brought to the table five years ago, we’d have a massive hit on our hands. But that’s just the point. We’ve experienced all of this before. Boys, this is less El matador. More El desperado.