Psicle: 23 Enigma

Bruce arrives late Friday afternoon and after Debbie's heartening cottage pie we march off to the Brixton Windmill where Pete, Wendy and Todd are half the customers. It's gone 9 too. Soon there are a couple of guys shambling about on stage doing a very loud sound check. Then the lights dim and the same two come on a play quite a few songs that end very abruptly as if half way through and although a few people have come into the place and a few hanging around on the dance floor I'm assuming that this is another sound check but it turns out to be the Joe Love set although I may be wrong. Good drummer but unvarying and bashy guitarist with mumbling vocals. The songs that they do play are OK but nothing to lodge in the memory banks. Next up are Hot Face who are more of a band with four of them. They are definitely not sound checking and with a tight bass and drums and two guitarists they pump out a great rock rhythm strongly influenced by Fat White Family and the Stooges. They go off into a jamming vibe and it's great. Very entertaining and easily worth the £3 entry alone. By now the place is a bit fuller and I think most are here to see Hot Face as the crowd, well, not so much tonight really, does dwindle before the last act come on. Silkarmour have potential but tonight seemed a little low key. The drummer gets thrashy at times but mainly steady. Synthist with ear buds in for some reason gives the electronic edge and the singer flits between bass and guitar and nothing. He's the most interesting guy with a Marc Almond style both in looks and vocals. At times they're like Soft Cell on ketamine and at times on acid. Bruce thinks Gene like. At times they do pump up the volume and energy but never quite peak into euphoria. After the set we chat and drink until the candles are lit and we realise that's all and the first band weren't sound checking. Burnout sticker update is that you can only see the cockatoo or whatever it is with the rest obscured by a South London Acid Boyz sticker. Nice.

Saturday me and Bruce brave the drizzle to go charity shop bargain hunting in Balham. Not a great success but Bruce got a couple of things. Then we're off to East Dulwich to watch an entertaining game versus Chippenham Town. It's the 4th time in as many weeks for me and a very poor turn out compared to the last three. The result was slightly better though in a game of two halves. 1 nil down, 2-1 up finishing 2-2. Fair I guess. After that we train to Zanna's for baked potatoes beans and other delicacies before participating in the Cross Bones Graveyard vigil led by an actor with an alter ego communing with a Winchester Goose. The latter being medieval prostitutes licenced by the bishop to practice their calling south of the river. It was an entertaining hour and a half if a little long in the damp chilly night air. There was recounting why the vigil takes place, entreaties to carry it on, poetry, song, morris dancing, tieing of ribbons and other frivolity. At times it felt a bit cult like especially the call and response bits which reminded me of CofE services and was a little disturbing. Anyways pretty interesting and mainly entertaining including a song by Frank Turner who turned up. Later we saw him being driven away in a sleek black limo. Afterwards we were warmed with good cheer and drinks back at Zanna and Jamie's then we wimped out of the after party to tube back home for more chat. Lily-Rose rolls in about 2 am having been to a much more frenetic night of D Block Europe at Ally Pally followed by Jamaican chicken patty at a Brixton all night cafe.

Sunday we failed to make it to Camden or Old Street or Brick Lane due to someone driving into Debbie in the Mini. She's thankfully OK unlike the car's front axle. It was a grey miserable day anyway. We did tour the garden thought.

Title meaning. Google it (other less intrusive search engines are available that don't track your every move and sell what you talk about to large corporates). Something to do with William Burroughs. And the magic number for the vigil last night which some bloke made damn sure we were aware of. Great weekend packed with interesting diversions. Cheers Bruce.