Stage Fright

So, here we are.  My lovely friend Connor decided to make this website for me, and now I am at a loss for things to talk about.  An unusual event by any account.  But since I’m fairly sure he’s the only one reading this for now, I won’t panic and will ease into things.  Pace myself for once and all that.

One group of people who definitely don’t seem to suffer from stage fright are The Narrow. A bunch of us went to watch them on Saturday night and while the birthday boy definitely did not pace himself, he really enjoyed the band. So much so that he has now dubbed himself a rockette. Ahem. I thought the band was great too, but the question that has really been on my mind since the gig is whether or not we’ve become snobs.
As much as we all enjoyed the band, the hottest topic of conversation was how disturbingly dirty the club was (think borderline Trainspotting toilets) and the permeating smell of curry, which is frankly something I expect in a London pub, not a nightclub. There’s grunge and then there’s taking it too far. But when we were younger (we’re still young okay!), those things didn’t seem to bother us. Our favourite hangouts were The Rift, The Station and Monks Inn, where we could hear the rats plotting our downfall between band sets. So I guess the question is, have we gotten snobbier, or is middle age finally making us pay for all those R2 beers at Monks?

Speaking of which, hopefully, we’ll get to recapture our youth when we hit the Monks Inn Revival 2010 in May…and I’m really hoping those rats have found another party to crash