Was hanging out at the Innocent Village Fete on Saturday. Was good fun; lots of nice food, nice drinks, free things and other such middle-class treats (macrame your own plants, grow your own babygrow, colour supplements - the new green alternative to muesli, is truffle hunting the new yoga? etc etc.)*.
Frolicking about in the sunshine some music reached our ears from one of the big top tents. We were chatting away when... wassatt... is that? ... but that's a brass band, they can't be playing late 90s dance riffs and acid house choons?!
This, my friends, is JUST THE THING. I urge you to check out The Fairey Band and their Acid Brass project. I have rashly ordered a CD** and am verymuchlookingforward to popping it onto my iPod. I love this kind of stuff. Interesting cover versions by unusual people are just my bag, baby. One day I'll do a post on here of my favourite ever covers versions (after some very, VERY careful thought).
Also, it's a good antidote to some of the tracks I have downloaded from the excellent score to The Dark Knight, which I saw on Saturday. I have discovered that the music is excellent for striding down the high street, full of brooding intensity and purpose, but also makes me feel slightly tense and constipated. Sort of full of portentous dread on a heavily red-meat based diet.
Anyway. I've given up booze-based drinking for a bit***, so we're expecting this distressing spate of rapid blog postings to continue.
* Although we did see an actual instance of pram-rage. Nasty. Worringly I also found myself automatically on the side of the parents, not the child-free couple. I must be getting on in life. But then we also saw one women, mid field, shouting at her two year old "Allegra! ALLEGRA! Leave that young man selling The Times alone!"
** I am a slave to whimsey and frippery.
*** Because my father came down to stay for a night and broke me. And he insisted we catch taxis to places and carry on drinking. And then drink some more. And, as usual, he was up with the larks and bounding around at 7am.