If you want to feel better about your life, pour this Tonic all over your hearts and dancing shoes
So, you’re a Londoner. You feel a social responsibility to educate yourself on the various and ever-changing landscapes of your city. Well, there are 20 or so students from the Royal College of Art who are conceptualising how central London will look in 2020, so you probably best read on.
Cargo in Shoreditch is a cool place. I like it. It has a bit of everything: an outdoor space, a bar area, and a live music room. On Thursday night, Karen P’s Broad Casting event was in collaboration with the Red Bull Music Academy. Between them they also provided a little bit…no, a lot, of [...]
The Barbican Centre looks to me like a vision of a future that never came to be. Yet it stands. Sixto Rodriguez, our 70 year-old Detroit blues legend this evening, is a vision of a present that so nearly never came to pass. Yet he stands.
As I enter The Brunel, past the ornate flaming gas canisters guarding the front door, I feel instantly housed in the pride of eloquent construction, coolly immersed in olive green and gun-metal grey, and warmly protected by steel fixtures and dark polished floors.
A soldier sleeps with a whore. The soldier then sleeps with a maid. The maid then sleeps with her master. The master then sleeps with a well-to-do married woman. The well-to-do married woman then sleeps with her husband. The husband then sleeps with a local boy. The local boy then sleeps with a French playwright. [...]
Walking into the Barfly in Camden and seeing the crowd awaiting the first band, Haunts, at the front of the stage was a good sign. It displayed an intention, a collective desire to kick the night off with gusto. From the start, Haunts rocked the shit.
As the projector screen that hid the stage at Club KOKO in Camden rose, so the three figures of Toronto’s Les Gars exploded. Loud and fast un-syncopated, down-struck guitar, a stage-bounding bass player, and relentless mashing drums not so much shook our hands but ripped our arms unceremoniously from our polite and pointless bodies.
You know Sailor Jerry. You may not think you know Sailor Jerry, aka Norman K. Collins, but you do. Even if tattoo art is something that has never touched your life, your skin, or your eyes (God forbid you try to tattoo your eyes), you will find the style of the designs in this exhibition [...]
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