I missed the Sleaford Mods - it's O.K

I missed the Sleaford Mods last night  – but bought a ticket for Stereolab today – but it’s not like seeing the Sleaford Mods.

I just listened to Kebab Spiders- I love that pure honesty of what the fuck and this and that – but it’s the craft of Fearn that’s getting me – there’s the scowl and undertow and all that rah rah rah – but the tunes become more sublime everytime – hit hit hit – penny shove gone crazy and paying out non stop for the masses. Making la la sounds and bringing you in. I haven’t heard the rest of Eton Lives  – but this is good.

This makes it even more fucking gutting that I missed it.

But I’ve been missing lots

I got put out my job sometime back – making it large over December days – you know smiling and all that whilst walking through some fucking shit mire not knowing.

So back to the Mods. We are the mods. Always.

I’ve been clean living in dirty times all my life.

I haven’t written a thing  for a while. The last time I saw the Sleaford Mods was at the The Roundhouse in Camden. 

I nearly bit someone’s throat out.

Well I didn’t bite it out. I wanted to. Not sure if that was a Sleafords Mods reaction or down to the medication I was on at the time - it can get you like that at times - send you off kilter. It was for my chest by the way - antibiotics.  But it was a worry. Mods shows and all that weren’t punctuated with violence – everytime I had seen them there was an air of beauty – people getting along  - listening and grinning.

At the Roundhouse – I had experienced something different. Now I am a middle aged man – I’m 47. Can you say I was too close to the front. I paid the money – it was free standing  - I made my way down to the first couple of rows  – I didn’t push nor shove I was close – maybe not a close as I wanted  but I was near the stage.

I enjoyed the set – there was an element that felt removed and the audience weren’t as into it as they were at Brixton before. Some movement happened – people got lively. Ok by me.  I felt water on my head. Liveliness. Yet it felt calculated. Looked around and this person was ready to try it again. I think it he mst have got caught up in the heady nature of the event. 

I am a 47 year old man.

I mean you no harm.

I meant no one any harm.

I carried on my evening – it was close to the end. The Mods had been good. Not quite connecting. Wetness on the head  - again. Clearly it was intended. Yes I had shuffled around a  little. I had caused no harm. 

I ventured to leave.

I was kicked.

I was kicked again.  On purpose.

Looked around. Same members of the audience who had spilt a pint on my head. Older than me by my reckoning. What kind of fun is all that? 

I came to do no harm. 

But I was ready for a rumble. I told him. I told him I would wait outside.

He did not wait outside.

I would have been a 47 year old man rolling in the Camden gutter.

It didn’t happen. I was waylaid by my friend who bought a t-shirt. A cautionary move to calm the whole thing down. This is the friend who offered to get tickets for the 100 Club last night.

He didn’t get tickets.

I thank him. If the crowd is turning into a freak show of wannabe fighters and scrappers then I can leave it for a while. Best to. Let them drift away on the next 'difficult album'. 

We will go again to see Sleaford Mods. 

I will be friendly.  As I always am. My friend knows this.