Lurch rung me up on Wednesday when I was on my way out of tax training (hmm) and asked if I wanted his spare ticket for seeing Faithless that night. Not too difficult a decision really and it was with some excitement that I rocked up to Wembley, eagerly awaiting some high amusement.
Still, Wembley arena is a funny place. Resplendent in leisure centre ambience and the fake ghostly echoes of people chanting for Wolf from the Gladiators does dancing on ice. Totally non-smoking, lit up brightly by strip lighting and heavily policed by a range of unpleasantly bureaucratic security characters. After I got through the obligatory search I hit my wallet for a Â£4 beer and took in the atmosphere. Fun fair rinseout territory as far as I could tell.
Inside the arena and confined to a seat – Lurch didn’t tell me that and I hate seated gigs – Faithless were brucking out their usual blend of euphoric house chillout and that certainly had its moments. Seeing the skinny form of Maxi Jazz bobbling about the stage like a puppet on his own strings was pretty cool as was the bopping sight of legendary keyboard maestro Sister Bliss. Unfortunately though, we were a bloody mile away and they could have been anyone dressed up to look like them for all I know. I kept looking down at the seething thousands that had blagged a place standing in the crowd down below and couldn’t help feeling I was missing something. Still, good to cross an old band off the unseen bands list and to stay up late afterwards playing their albums, shouting drunkenly and blazing it up till the small hours.
Inevitably today was pretty unpleasant. A surfeit of work and the inevitable deadline for the project I’ve been running, was on me. Sweating and shaking through a bit of quick spreadsheet work, sneaking out for gasped cigarettes and then back, brain on fire from cups of coffee, sickness and fear of failure. It was a long day. 9.5 hours to be precise, but it was with a light step that I left the office today. I felt like I’d stuck at it and though doom is almost certainly to come in shape tomorrow due to the still unfinished state of the work, it was a brave effort.
Then brilliantly I got on the train at Moorgate to inadvertently sit on the seat that a stop later was to be frequented by a fine young lady who insisted on pressing her leg against mine while smelling of an amazingly clean and soothing perfume. I closed my eyes in a veritable summer garden and went happily to sleep.