Recovery posture

Wait a second, wait a second…. Oh, crap. rgl has already beaten me to it on all the Reading analysis I was bottling up during the long weekend. Well, if he would be less rock and roll and go home on Sunday night…. I also reckon I have some parallels and some tangents to his articles to cover, so it’s not as though I’ve been pipped entirely to that particular post.

But I’m still so tired—did anyone mention rock and roll?—and haven’t really recovered yet. Borken kitten am I. After one night in a real bed, K. and I had to sleep on the sofas yesterday to make room for my parents, passing through Oxford on their long car/ferry journey back to the Spanish coast. And they insisted on three bottles of wine with the meal they forced upon us. I just want to sleep right now, not write.

So a child-like act of obsessive listing will have to bridge the gap between this and what I’ll hopefully write shortly. Think of it as a mantra or beat poem rather than just a set of limply connected items. In chronological order:

Friday
Do Me Bad Things, Goldie Lookin’ Chain, The Wedding Present, The Dead 60s, Death From Above 1979, Graham Coxon, The Subways, Elbow, The Coral, My Chemical Romance, Queens of the Stone Age, The Killers, Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, Kasabian
Saturday
Youth Group, Clor, Biffy Clyro, Roots Manuva, Dinosaur Jr, The Charlatans, Be Your Own Pet, Caesars, Sleater-Kinney, The Raveonettes, The Go! Team
Sunday
Beautiful People, ¡Forward Russia!, Towers of London, The Rakes, Sons & Daughters, NoFX, Iggy Pop & The Stooges, The Duke Spirit, British Sea Power, The Futureheads, Bloc Party

36 bands, that is. That makes me harder than rgl. Grr.

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