And people tell me what a real nice guy you are; so come and serenade me on your acoustic guitar

Do you reckon Megabus should introduce loyalty cards? I seem to never be off the effers.

So, busy week is in full swing and I’m loving it. Road trip at the weekend and ended up in Sheffield on Tuesday. I planned on not sleeping at all on Monday night in order to get up at 5.30am, but failed and fell asleep mid Man To Man With Dean Learner at 4.30am. Damn. Still caught my bus to Sheffield on time though. Sadly no bus nutters to report except the guy in front of me who headbutted the chair in front of him when its occupants stretched and put his hands there. What?!

The journey passed without hitch or interest. Listened to the Jarvis Cocker Record twice, Lightspeed Champion’s twice, Johnny Thunders – So Alone and others I can’t remember. Definitely some Human League at some point… Changed in Dundee, then again in Edinburgh, then we were Sheff-bound. Eventually tracked down where to get a tram and at about 5pm met Selly off of it. Ex. Ci. Ting! She walked me up her hill, which wasn’t as hilly as I was expecting but fair play to her for making her way up and down it every day. Went to her flat, more excitingness, got introduced to some friendly people and we decided in a neutral way to watch some Brass Eye before going to see the Cocker. (Looking back, we shoulda just watched Blouse – Me Oh Myra to get us in the mood) Sex and Paedo special. Much lols were had. Beer nearly came out my nose as per when watching anything by Chris Morris (and drinking at the same time, I mean, my nose doesn’t just turn into a beer fountain randomly when I’m watching the Day Today… but that would be freakin’ cool. And cheap. I’d only charge you a quid a pint. Although, it would be coming out my nose… I’ve not thought this through… I’ll install some sort of purifying system, that’ll do…)
So, we caught a bus to the Academy and I bought another tshirt with a swear word on it ‘cos like I’m so like post-modern and anarchic and like nihilistic. (It’s not good because it’s rude; it’s good because it looks like it’s good because it’s rude) and Selly bought us B££RZZZ (I owe you booze next time, love. When we all invade Sheffield whenever the Berry decided to tour again… or before)
Right, so yeah, there we were stood at the merch stand deliberating over what to buy (Rough Trade tshirts, Jarvis tshirts, comics from Jeffrey Lewis -a name I recognised from somewhere and concluded he must be the support act- and all that jazz) and a guy that looked really familiar came over and started talking to the merch-man. Then it clicked. The guy next to me was Jeffrey Lewis and I’d seen him on the culture show or something not that long ago. He was about to go onstage so the other fella wished him luck and off he scarpered. We soon followed suit and found a nice spot.

Last time I saw Jarvis I was stuck right at the back of the venue with three huge bags. By the time I did track down McKeown to take them backstage, I couldn’t get any closer. This time we were reasonably near the stage. Exciting for my first gig since May (Jamie commented on this the other day, “Fuck, that’s a long time… especially for you!”) Mr Lewis came onstage and immediately made everyone think he was adorable. Aww… I made a mental note to pick up one of his CDs on my way out, but I never did. He presented two ‘documentaries’. One was on the history of Rough Trade and I was the only person who seemed to cheer when Geoff was mentioned. The other was this…

What a sweet man. So yes, he was good.

Jarvis though. Words used to describe my adoration for this man are neither radical nor eloquent (it took me long enough to think of a word that eventually became ‘radical’ there) so forgive the next bit. It’ll just be ramblings and nostalgia.

The gig itself was unreal. He came on and the projector behind him was reading things like “Alright Sheffield? You having a good time? I can’t hear you: I said are you having a good time?” etc. He had a pointy stick which would later be used to lecture us on subjects from blues music to Dan Brown and Clive Cussler. He was very very funny. Each new song he explained before playing it. And the set was mainly new stuff. Usually I like a good mix of new and old, but this unheard stuff was fantastic and has left me pining for a new album soon, please Cocker. I don’t think I should be allowed to describe the whole gig and my thoughts or the internet will run out of pixels (that’s how the internet works. Don’t type ‘Google’ into Google!) but he did an encore in which he played Fat Children. I was hopeful for a double encore as he’d not played Don’t Let Him Waste Your Time. He returned again and spoke then said, “I’m sorry I’m wasting your time…” then nothing, “I said I’m sorry, I’m wasting your time…” and the band started playing. Very funny man!
Fantastic gig. He’s such a performer. He still dances in his own way and engages every single person in the building. All that I did notice was that for a home crowd, the Sheffield bunch weren’t very animated. They cheered and were obviously very appreciative to see the man in action, but me and Selly were pulling some shapes and only a few people around us were bobbing gently. Strange times. This continued after the second encore. He left the stage and the lights stayed down. The equipment started to be packed away so everyone was gonna leave when we heard a voice over the PA, “Sheffield… why aren’t you dancing?” everyone was confused as we could hear him but not see him. We thought he’d be on the balcony or swinging from the disco ball, but no… eventually, people started to cotton on that he was at the back of the room at the decks and was doing an impromptu dj set. Very strange. I got up to the front of his little cage and just sort of watched in awe of my hero who was one metre away from me playing good music. Then I felt bad that I wasn’t dancing. Obviously the guy next to me did too, so we both started singing and dancing together to Lipps Inc’s ‘Funkytown’. Tune. Everyone was just sort of staring at him and it made me feel uneasy. Just dance! Although he started signing things and getting photos taken with some people to the left of him, so I shamefully jumped on this bandwagon, determined to get my photo taken with my idol. Understandably, he was more interested in playing the right songs so seemed to stop signing things and getting photos done by the time I made me way round that side. I don’t feel bad though, he’s a lovely fella. It’s not his problem, he wasn’t obligated to do anything. I desperately want to go to his gig on Friday in Edinburgh, but I’m otherwise engaged. Damn Russell Howard (hey, Steve Hall’s supporting again, got a message from him on myspace, what a lovely!) I tracked down Selly who had bought his album, but like I said before, I forgot to get a copy of Jeffrey Lewis’. Probably for the best at the moment though as my iTunes appears to hate the world and isn’t working. Enough of that!

Here’s where things will get a bit hectic as I try to say too much at once and end up repeating myself and saying… nothing at all, really.
Now, Pulp were a very big part of my childhood. Easily the best Britpop band, but people seemed to be more fixated by Blur/Oasis, probably due to their rivalry. I’m only a little’un, born in the autumn of 1990, so I was merely five years old when Different Class was released. My sister, 10 at the time, bought it on tape. [Top Tip: If you are a five year old and you want to learn to be better than your friends (although if you're reading this, you are clearly an intelligent being with amazing taste -cough- and are already cool in my book) always make sure you have a cool older sister. If you don't have one, attach yourself to the closest ten year old you know who listens to the Rolling Stones and stuff.] Certain times in my childhood I can remember vividly, mostly all of them have music involved somehow. I remember a week after she bought it, a week of it whirring around our cassette player non-stop and I knew all the words to every song and Disco 2000 became my favourite tune ever as I thought it was about me and my next door neighbour Andrew (we were born within an hour of each other, our mothers said we could be sister and brother… they thought that when we grew up, we’d get married and never split up) A bit strange for a five year old to ponder, but I just presumed it was about us anyway. Despite the fact my name isn’t Deborah… and I had no idea what wood-chip was.

Looking back on it, I think the first time I must have seen Jarvis in action (as in… not in pictures) I was probably about 8 and it was the Common People video. My cousins had Sky and we only had channels 1-4, so music channels were a novelty to us. Still are, I suppose as Freeview only give you two. Anyway, they were showing Common People of one of the 100000 music channels and I remember being in awe of how pale Jarvis was. I am pale, he is pale, I related! And his dancing… wow. I was coming to it three years late, but it was very fresh and strange and good. That was when the man was crowned my hero. Cut to 2006 and I’m cursing the fact I have no money to buy his debut solo album until one day in November, a package arrives from Rough Trade containing Brakes – Beatific Visions; Albert Hammond, Jr – Yours To Keep and the Jarvis bloody Cocker record. For free. To this day, I love Rough Trade and will do forever. I was obviously very excited to listen to all of this new music, but especially Jarvis. It was a lunchtime and I was still at school, so quickly threw all the cds onto my iPod, forgetting to actually have lunch and listened to Jarvis on the way back to the education establishment. I remember I had history then. A subject I used to love, but at this point was failing miserably at. The entire lesson was spent talking about the album to anyone who would listen and how it was beautifully put together. This was after about 2 listens, so I probably couldn’t actually remember much of it, but was pre-empting my reactions after I knew it all off by heart. I’m such a freakin’ sycophant. But yes, it did blossom into one of my favourite albums of the year. In February of 2007, my friends’ band were due to support the man in Glasgow. I made my way down and was put on the guestlist, but as touched upon before, most of my night was spent at the back of the venue at the bar. Not too bad though, various members of Franz Ferdinand were milling about and I kept bumping into people I recognised which was fun. I remember being bemused by the room full of people shouting “Cunts are still running the world” along with him and loving the fact that he did a Jesus and Mary Chain cover.
In conclusion, Pulp. Yes. Jarvis. Yes. (Mock, yeah. Ing, yeah. Bird, yeah.) I know I never claim to have a favourite band and if I’m talking about the Cure or the Smiths for example, I’ll say “They’re one of my favourite bands!” but at the back of my mind, my brain is asking itself, “So who is your favourite band then?”
To which it’ll reply to itself, “Well… how do we choose?”
“Hmm… interesting question… Well, I suppose you’d go for a band that has made a huge impact on your life. They inspired you and you’ve fond memories of listening to their tunes.”
“Pulp then?”
“Yeah, Pulp.”
That’s that settled then.

On with the show! So me and El Sel (new name ahoy!) returned to her chambers via taxi and stopping at Nibbles (oh yeah, work that name, girlfriend) on the way. We watched Screenwipe on iPlayer and then AD/BC, spoke about allsorts and listened to some music while discussing the genius of Shirley Bassey (and every other Bond theme ever).
I slept on her floor and after I’ve submitted this entry (oo-er) I’m gonna score it off my life list on the About the “Author” page. Win! I still need to light a fag for an idol. Bonus points if it’s with a match and not a lighter. Oh damn, I coulda done one for the Cocker the other day! Ha!

So, woke at 9am yesterday and immediately fell back asleep until 10. I started to get my stuff together quietly so as not to disturb the lady lady. When she awoke, we discovered that my bus was at 12.30 and not 12. Win! This gave her time to have a shower an’ that. We walked back down the big hill, discussed the previous night’s shenanigans and Morrissey. I felt right sad. Selly, my dear, I did not get enough time with you, I fear. We’ll do it again sometime. I left her to catch a train back to Meadowhall and sadly got on my Megabus. Again, the journey was dull and took ages. By the end of it, I was starving, so ran to the chinese where they start making my order as soon as I go in. It’s like Cheers, but all they do is be polite and make me food, no witty banter. I like it though.

A debit card arrived from RBS today. I think it’s a bit fucking late considering they never gave me one when I needed it ages ago and I switched banks. It made me laugh though. Now I have two. Infuriating. But funny.
I’m gonna meet up with Baz le Baz in a few minutes to go to that coffee shop that’s recently opened at the end of the road. It’s strange there being somewhere like that right on my doorstep. I used to moan about having to hang around outside when I was about 14 ‘cos there was nowhere like that to go. Better late than never.

I’m being dragged to see the View tonight. I wouldn’t bother most of the time, but it’s at the Lemon Tree. Nice to see bigger bands play smaller venues. Bring on the drunkness. Them, not me.

Tags: important meet-ups, music, people are good, positivity, sentimentality, travel