I'm sitting inside writing an essay, and out the window it is one of the most gorgeous, sunny, shirtsleeves days of the year so far. This is such an intolerable situation I am procrastinating by writing a blog entry which will keep me in here even longer. I don't think I ever claimed to be a bright spark...
Here are the abridged recent highlights in the world or mr zilla.
All the poor, poor fundamentalist Christians. Praying day after day and waiting all these centuries for the second coming so they can be saved and experience The Rapture. All they needed to do was be in the Medicine Bar
last Saturday night, where Shuya Okino, half of Japanese production duo Kyoto Jazz Massive
was behind the decks. While it was definitely the set of a composer/producer and not a turntable ninja, this maestro wielded bleeding edge chops that left the room gasping. Me, I was in such a state of pants-wetting bliss at the tunes I couldn't even manage to dance, or speak, or remember to go to the bar, or maintain bladder control, while drinking in the free wheeling future jazz at the same time. Highlights of the set included 'The Brightness Of These Days' from the 2004 KJM album Spirit of the Sun
and 'Froro' from Jazztronik's Set Free
Thankfully Ms Z managed to manuevre me out the door at the end of the night and although still speaking in tongues on the bus to the hotel in Paddington as the clocks shifted forward an hour, the night eventually passed without any further cults accidentally forming.
Sunday we roamed through Kensington Palace gardens for a while before head off down to the Thames. Known in these parts simply as The Boat Race
or more informatively, the Oxford Blues vs Cambridge Blues annual mens coxed eights race down on the Thames. The Boat Race rates almost an entire day of BBC coverage, and perhaps the only thing that makes it fall slightly short of being a 'Race That Stops the Nation'
is the lack of a few dozen horsepower of thoroughbred dog food. Its quite the do though and we spent Easter Sunday afternoon amongst the throng by the Hammersmith Bridge. Oxford weighed in with the heaviest squad in the century-plus history of the race, and roared away over the four mile course to finish winners by several lengths.
Sunday night and Monday afternoon we toured through southwestern rural parts with Ms Z's Aunt, from Salisbury to Avesbury and back to Oxford in time for me to catch a nap before getting to Thirst
for the Monday night set. It's taken me a couple of weeks to settle into these 5 hour sets and get what I want out of the night, but the manager is more than pleased, the staff keep asking for mix CDs, and the residency is on indefinitely. That was such good news I immediately went and blew over forty quid at dustygroove
and I'll tell you all about what I picked up when they arrive.
Back to the essay now, I've got to get it topped and tailed so I can nip down to Notting Hill tomorrow afternoon, I'm lending a hand with Oxfam's club night
at the Notting Hill Arts Club
in support of the Control Arms