Friendly Forum Fire

A couple more gigs taken in with Heather, coincidently both at the Kentish Town Forum.

Ash

The Gulps

Definitely have an attitude

First up were Ash, playing the whole of Free All Angels. That meant that, after a bonus appearance last time, we got Charlotte Hatherley again.

First there was a support act though, The Gulps bringing a brand of punkish rock with a lead singer with all of the attitude, if only some of the talent, to lead a band of that genre. They weren’t awful, they weren’t brilliant. They certainly weren’t Ash.

Ash

Turning back the clock to Free All Angels

What Ash were, was as roaring as always. They tore through the classic album in a riot of sing-a-long glory as the crowd dance and cheered. And reaching the end they barely paused for breath before launching into a medley of other hits. The encore came with a hugely loud Girl From Mars and sending us home Burn Baby Burn for the second time, because their sound engineer thought it would be a good idea.

The Gulps

Singing To You

Freed Angel

Tim Wheeler

Charlotte

Style

Crowd

Ash

Singing The Hits

Ash The Band

Steve Ludwin

The Enemy

A couple of weeks later there was a return to the Forum, this time for a band we hadn’t seen before, The Enemy.

Not So Little

Little Man Tate in support of The Enemy

Arriving quite early we were once again in time for the support, not one but two bands entertaining us. First up to the still sparse audience were Wide Eyed Boy. They were good enough, and a nice little bonus for getting in early.

The Enemy Live

Playing hard on stage

Next were Little Man Tate, who were apparently around in the naughties but had managed to pass us by. That’s a bit of a surprise, because they fit right into the sort of thing we like. Apparently they’ve just returned after a hiatus and impressive they were too.

Also returning were the headline act. The Enemy took us through a back catalogue of their hits in an load and entertaining set. They know how to pen a sing-a-long lyric or too and the crowd enthusiastically joined in. Much like Ash they finished the night with a reprise of an earlier song, sending us off into the night with chants of “This Song” which continued well along the tube journey home.

He’s Wide Eyed

Under The Lights

Not So Little

Little Man Tate

See You

Band Over The Crowd

The Enemy In Action

The Red Enemy

The Enemy Live

Excited Crowd

This Song Is About You

Tribute

Liam Opening

Couple of Oasis classics

I considered putting this in the Bits and Pieces post, but really it deserves its own, so here we are. Earlier this year we tragically lost the drummer of the Foo Fighters, Taylor Hawkins. To celebrate his life a huge concert was organised at Wembley (with a second in LA), with a line-up that had to be seen to be believed. Luckily, Heather and I got hold of the hottest ticket in town to see it.

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Hey There In Heysden

Still Lake

Reflecting sky and tree

Having seen half of them in Chester, there was a chance to see the full Cooper family at the start of August, as Doug, Esther, and Evie were over from Switzerland and the others down from the north-west. We had to squeeze a meet in, shortly after getting back from Hastings and just before other things (and my going back to work), so we all met up (Heather’s mum included) at Heysden Country Park just outside Tonbridge.

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Seems like the perfect time to abolish the lot of them… right?

Ten Years Gone

I opened a box, one that hadn’t seen its lid lifted in nearly 10 years.

I’d forgotten how much it hurts to miss you. Which sounds a crazy thing to say, but the pain is a thing that lives inside, hunkered down, rarely rawly confronted. Not unless a lid is lifted.

Intellectually I knew what was in the box. Which is different to the knowing when looking at the contents. So much remembered in theory, but details kill.

Notebooks with your scribbled craziness. The great letter of my soul which sat post system for a week. Your letters in return, wild as you, filled with madness and love and how much we missed each other.

A notebook I recall watching myself write in, when… Wrote in with little phrases. I read through, recognising things I still say, because of you. Aching at other of the words that are suddenly familiar but forgotten till that jar of memory, never uttered now that secret language has but one speaker.

A purse, a box, rusted keys, a hat, a little, so short skirt. And a certificate, not the one which we aimed to get. One that just says Death.

So much lost in the mind in ten years is scary. I don’t wish to forget. I speak your name my Pixie, my Janet. I remember. Perhaps in 10 years I will open the other box, of you and deep lore which hides in the loft. I know at least I will not forget.

Rochester Lovely Jubilee

Big Flag

on the castle walls

Apparently the head of some out dated feudal system was having some sort of celebration, which for some reason the country was expected to join in with. Not having any of that I was however grateful for the double “jubilee” bank holiday, and took advantage with Heather to go on the annual pilgrimage to Rochester.

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