The internet is dangerous and I’m not on about things like paedophiles and identity theft. It’s the internet that causes me to part with money I don’t have. It’s thanks to the worldwide web that I end up miles away from home desperately trying to find somewhere to sleep at 3 in the morning, every hotel turning me away like I’m carrying the son of god. It is thanks to the internet that for the next few weeks I’m going to have to fight people at the reduced section of Tesco to avoid starvation. Allow me to explain:
Google is happy to finish your sentences for you. But beware dear reader where that can take you. At the start of this week I googled Kid Koala, to see out of curiosity what the bear had been up to. ’KID KOALA KOKO’ appears. Oooh I think, for a mere 15 pounds I can see my favourite DJ (and certainly your mums) and Polar Bear. So I completely rearrange my schedule for the week: I cram as much filming in as I can, plan to see a cohort in Cardiff, London the day after than back with the fam fam for a day or two.
The Megabus is horrible, an albino German student felt the need to travel with some dodgy bowels, allowing me to taste his last meal the entire journey. I especially liked it when the driver didn’t bother checking anyone’s tickets. ‘Fuck you, I paid top dollar to watch you read that and tick me off.’ For the first time in ages I arrive in London with the sun still in the air. Being rather underground savvy of late I hot tail to Chalk Farm and hook up with my favourite London Native and Nativess. We convene in the Hawley which not only housed expensive beer but Nikki from Big Brother something. We relax and catch up in the sun, it soon sinks and we’re reminded it’s still winter at night. Blah,blah,blah we arrive at the Koko. I remember I was here last year when Les Claypool was in town. We buy more expensive alcohol and watch the first act, a pretty bland funk band. Being the curious folk we are we start exploring and justify the need for security. Some people see a locked door or fence and see it as its purpose and behave accordingly. For us doors and fences are just doors and fences, they can be opened and climbed. Our ‘Queens heart lane radio’ bullshit didn’t fly here (It did in L.A). So we resort to more beer and the second band. I didn’t devote substantial attention to them, though I believe it was their album launch. I look at it like this, if I know for a fact the person behind me wants to see this band more than I do I should be behind him. Polar Bear perform and in all honesty I’m a bit disappointed. I liked Acoustic Ladlylands collaborations. I’m a big fan of Polar Bears brand of Jazz, strong musicianship, quite beautiful melodies and the confidence to go all improv with the song for ages. Here their new venture with Jyager doesn’t hold up. After a track or two my interest in him starts to wane. There’s only room for one ridiculous haircut and it’s behind the kit, everyone knows it’s Seb’s project so why is Jyager giving orders? Think I’m just a bit grumpy as we didn’t get anything like Tay or Tomloveslifelovestom and the horns weren’t mixed very well. My friend who wasn’t familiar with them was continuously tipping them with his spare change. Then he goes awol. Nothing to worry about. It happens all the time…
I’m standing right on the barrier when Kid Koala appears. The moments a bit surreal. For me he is one of those acts I didn’t think I’d be lucky to see. Especially on the same bill as Polar Bear (who I’m definitely going to have to catch again and give them the time they deserve ((and Jyager))). Once upon a time I went and saw Brain live with a surprise appearance from DJ Disk but this is the first DJ I’ve gone to see live. The Kid’s great, really engaging and it’s clear how much fun he’s having. Three highlights:
He did the ‘Yo Gabba Gabba’ thing.
Played Skanky Panky, the first Koala song I heard.
He wore his costume, apparently he lost a bet and has to wear it for the next 100 shows this is the 23rd.
He also pulled out three audience members, gave two pillows and one a sampler. He then wik-wah’d while they fought for three rounds. The Canadian showed us all the skills he was famous for, I’m a fan of how he improvises using the decks like instruments. He ends the set by informing the crowd he as a new album and graphic novel out soon.
By this point I am stupid drunk and swim with the school of others, cramped and sweaty through the exits. No sign of my accomplice outside. No room for the night, shit. His phone rings once or twice before it dies. My options are now extremely limited:
1. Wander around until he contacts me. As he his drunk and/or asleep this could be hours.
2. Find somewhere that’s open 24hr and hold up for the night. I have no idea where anything is and the last thing I want is to be drinking coffee at 5 in the morning.
3. Find somewhere to sleep. With no one else familiar in the vicinity and not in the mood to make friends I decide to hunt down a hotel. What I want is to pay cash for The Hotel Broslin, to sleep on a grotty bed with nothing on television except for pornography, sirens outside and bullet holes in the wall. Sadly hotels like this aren’t as popular as you’d think. I stagger around and nowhere lets me stay. Literally I’m being delivered the cinematic flip of the vacancies sign as I approach the buildings. Cant blame them, who wants bloodshot eyes, swearing like Joe Pesci (Circa Home Alone) and a stereotypical racists haircut ruining their sheets? Well the Comfort Hotel doesn’t mind and I’m dumped into a family suite. If sleep wasn’t dominating my drunken focus I’d have appreciated the juxtaposition.
Check out is at 11. Considering the price I’d paid for it I might as well have crawled into my mobile phone and slept in a premium phone number. I arise, shower and enjoy being naked for a bit. I then hook up with my friend who insists on giving me the full price of the room feeling somewhat responsible. After refusing for awhile we settle on half and I take his address, an obvious bit of preparation should a similar situation occur again. We stroll with his partner in Camden through a mass of Trilbies and tacky Indian merchandise before parting ways. Underground, Train, half hour walk to my house before jettisoning back to university two day later. All because I pressed space in a toolbar.
B-Side
P.S Filestube does a similar thing. Before I pressed ‘Y’ searching for ‘Stray Toasters’ I was greeted with ‘Strap on Girl Fucks Guy’. Wonderful.
