Luminaire: Wake Week & Lights Out

Little point in me going on too much about the closure of the Luminaire. Everyone’s gutted, that’s a given.

A week of sold-out shows gave the venue a proper send off. I had a busy week, so sadly, I only made it to a couple of them. Fence Collective did a great showcase to kick the week off. Blondie and I had a lovely evening. Particularly enjoyed King Creosote and Pictish Trail on stage at the same time. Superb.

Met up with Kieran and Lou W for a Dry The River matinee on the Sunday. It was a fundraiser for the Teenage Cancer Trust, and a ridiculous bargain at two quid, all of which going to the charity (good old Lumi – kindness itself, even in the death throes). This was, however, a bit of a mistake. None of us had much energy, and although they were very good, even an energetic performance by DTR couldn’t raise our spirits. I had a brief conversation with Mr Inglis and it seemed the Sunday blues had reached him too. And then we ate a weird 1970s meal in a little restaurant on Kilburn High Street, which I won’t name, because I’m not AA Gill.

The Luminaire’s funeral night was a different kettle of dead fish. It was a bit of a riot. Although there were some sad and rather poignant moments (a funny but touching eulogy given by Son Of Dave, hearing Andy Inglis speak about the venue he loved), and some bizarre moments (there was a coffin – an actual coffin…with pall bearers), it was a sterling night. Great music (I fell a wee bit in love with John & Jehn), top DJing, some very expressive dancing, and one truly Formula 1-esque moment, as Mr Inglis hopped athletically onto his bar and sprayed the assembled crowd with fizz (oh, they were begging for it), whilst toasting his venue partner-in-crime John Donnelly. It was the most rock ‘n’ roll wake I’ve ever had the honour of attending.

RIP, you lovely old girl.

Scorpio Rising

Birthday time for us sting-in-the-tail types. I've had the most lovely weekend. Began with another evening at The Haberdashery with my dear pal Smiff selling our old junk. We like to think of ourselves as Steptoe and Son (I'm Albert, she's the long-suffering Harold). Great fun and a few bob in the pocket:

Soundtrack to our lives

Saturday included pottering around the cafés of Crouch End with The Ex, eating cakes, drinking tea, talking about dildos (don't ask). The Ex is a successful web producer at the BBC. His team had bought him a birthday card (his birthday is the day before mine) which was a really sweet picture of meadow flowers, and they'd drawn a great big cock over the top of it. I found this very touching - they obviously think he's a great boss and have a lot of respect for him:

They spend your licence fee on stuff like this

Was really bloody lucky to get into a completely sold-out Warlocks gig at the Luminaire. Yet again, it's who I know and certainly not what I know. Having been previously introduced to the very witty and charming Andy Inglis who runs the Luminaire by Howard Local at a gig (Dan Mangan if my fading memory serves me right), we were lucky enough to bump into him on the door and get a sneaky pass in. Back of the net! And they were superb, those Warlocks (Bobby Hecksher is top - I saw him afterwards and told him so, to which he replied, "oh, thanks so much for coming down" in a truly humble and enthusiastic way - lovely manners). And then, there seemed to be a lot of booze and things turned a bit soft round the edges, including me...all good, though...:

The perfect combo of psych and good manners

Good, that is, until I had to collect my car next morning after 4 hours sleep...not big, not at all clever. Not entirely sure I should have been driving, actually. But after a shower and a mammoth fry-up, this Lady Lazarus rose again. Back to the pub for my birthday drinks with all my nearest and dearest. Perfect way to spend a Sunday afternoon - pals, few drinks (medicinal, by this point), lots of laughs - big love goes to anyone who turned up and for my goodies too: Mr & Mrs Barton for the choccy cake and fizz; Vik and Tim for my french violet creams; Smiff for my slap; Mr Local for my jazz-metal CD; Liza and Dave for the scary slinky thing and screenprint; Ber & K for the curry when I got in; but topping the lot, me old mucker Blondie who had hunted down a copy of my 70's Hornsea pottery childhood mug which I loved so dearly, until I broke it some years back:

What a mug (it, not me)

(Postscript: Having just read this week's Luminaire mailout, can I suggest that any of my regular readers subscribe here: http://www.theluminaire.co.uk/ Even if you only subscribe, with no intention of going to what can only be described as probably London's best small venue, run by a very witty Scot, staffed by cheerful, competent people, hosting some fine musicians every week, then you will at least be treated to what is one of the funniest mailouts I have the pleasure of reading. This week I feature heavily (see Warlocks paragraph above) as the inebriated 'friend' who suggested he might want to bring the swearing and ranting back into the mailout. We raging potty mouths have to stick together.)

Nice, Nice, Very Nice Mr Mangan

I'm a bit in love with Canada and I haven't even been there. The land of the Maple Leaf has produced some of my favourite artists of all time, topping the list are The Band and my fave heart of gold, Mr Neil Young. I'm having a wee love affair with Black Mountain too.

So when Howard Local tells me he's in cahoots with the Canucks to set up a Canada day celebration of musicians, I'm thinking I ought to slope along. Busy, busy at work, so being unsure if I'll make it, he's kind enough to let me and a friend turn up, on-spec kinda thing.

Lovely sunny evening, and Nads and I roll up to the Lexington, nice old boozer on the Pentonville Road, which has a decent venue above (reckon it holds a couple of hundred). Hook up with Howard and Andy, who turns out to run The Luminaire in Kilburn, which really is one of my fave venues ANYWHERE. He's a very charming Scot, and we end up chewing the fat until it's time to go inside for some music. We've missed the first act almost (The Mighty Low), so just see the very last number.

Next up is Artur Dyjencinski, who is just great. He has such energy, a great backing band (bizarrely, he has a hot blonde pouty rock chick guitarist on a classic Gibson SG, who looks like she should be knocking about with Motley Crüe) and they really get the crowd going.

Superb finale from Dan Mangan. He's charming, funny, immensely talented, and has the ability to sing the song "Basket" with such a passion that he reduced this lady to proper tears (this was a bittersweet moment, actually, as the last time I saw Dan play, I was in Oz with Mr Ward).

Normally, I'm a little embarrassed by sing-a-longs but when the crowd know every single word to "Robots", I really do love it (obviously, I'm not singing along - that'd be daft). I spot Steven Broken Family Band belting it out, which just makes me smile. Sometimes, the reward for not being a lazy get is SO worth it.

(postscript: on an energy roll, I head for the Macbeth the following night to see Elephant Stone and their Psychedelic Friends - who could resist??? And although I like Elephant Stone - Rishi Dhir is ex-High Dials, plays psych-sitar!!! - I much more enjoy the sunny, blissed out, swirly pop of Koolaid Electric Company. Nice Tom Wolfe reference too. And just as I was leaving, Mr Young was belting out "Cinnamon Girl. The perfect end to Canada Day.)