Overheard
In which our ears are flapping
Chap walking down Stokes Croft, chatting away on the phone:
A homage to loading screens.
In which our ears are flapping
Chap walking down Stokes Croft, chatting away on the phone:
In which we wander around Bristol
Thursday’s post was verging on being Photo Post Of The Week itself, what with, well, the amount of photography in it. It didn’t feel like a real Photo Post, though, so I didn’t try to turn it into one.
In which we celebrate
Wednesday night was New Year’s Eve; and, for once, we went out. Counting on my fingers, I worked out, it must be about seven or eight years since I last went out to an event on New Year’s Eve, rather than just pop round to a graveyard or a friend’s house. Last year, I remember very clearly where I was at midnight: in bed, ill, groaning and wishing the bloody fireworks and cheering would shut up.
In which we see Pelle Carlberg
We were hoping, when we moved here, that there would always be lots of exciting little gigs to go to, given that this city is always supposed to have an exciting music scene. Last night, we went to the second one we’ve been to since we moved to, to see one of our favourite Swedish indiepop acts, Pelle Carlberg. Swedish indiepop? Yes, indeed. A classic genre, I’ll have you know.