Paul Simonon

It is one o'clock in the morning and OD rang. "I've just met Paul Simonon, the bass player from The Clash. We came out of the same pub in Shoreditch. I said to him "My Dad's a bass player and he loves you". He said 'is he gay?' and I said 'no he's not, he just loves you'. We're going to Tracy Emin's party now and Sir Bob Geldof is supposed to be there". I replied: "errr.... and where you sleeping tonight". "Don't worry Dad. We'll find somewhere safe".


Four thirty in the morning the phone rings again. “Hello, this is Limehouse police station. We have your daughter here. We’re trying to think of reasons not to arrest her for criminal damage”

When I arrive an hour later it transpires that OD, Niamh and various others had failed to be admitted to Tracy Emin’s party and so were walking through Spitalfields to get a night bus to Niamh’s boyfriend’s house where they were going to stay. One of the lads then decided to throw a pallet at a vintage bus that was on display, breaking one of its windows. Two security guards saw them. The boys promptly ran whilst the girls, wearing heels, gave up after six yards. Thus they got a nice ride to the police station. “We didn’t tell them the boys’ full names, only their first names. We said we’d only met them tonight. We did a very good job at lying though, both our stories matched up.”
OD is sixteen and a half. No wonder I am grey.

Hyde Park Calling

And so, a week passed and I found myself back at Hyde Park for Peter Gabriel and a full supporting bill. As things transpired there were nine of us attending on the day and it stands testament to the fact that a combination of three stages and our varying tastes meant that many of us had separate highlights. The Dame was enraptured by Under the Influence of Giants who he said were like a rockier version of the Sister Sisters. Wendy was taken by Seth Lakeman and his grungey violin stuff. The Wing-Commander sang the joys of the Buena Vista Social club. Robbie though Crowded House were the bees knees, whereas my personal highlight was a folksy/pop brother & sister act called Angus and Julia Stone. They played to an almost empty tent while Crowded House were on and had a splendid mix of aching melancholy, catchy choruses and endearing vocals. I even bought the album from the merchandising stall and very good it is too. But everybody liked The Feeling which was a little surprising as I had thought of them as a bit of a fey pop group before but they showed they were more then capable of delivering in a live setting. Of course, Gabriel was headlining and for those of us who didn’t get soaked to the skin while t’House were on and went home to get dry (chiefly because we were watching better bands on smaller stages in tents), he was mighty fine as well. A strange choice of set which pandered more to his hardcore fans than the occasional listener with virtually nothing from his past two albums (which had composed the majority of his material on his 2003 and 2004 tours and, in my opinion, are his best work), focussing instead on fan favourites from the early years of his solo career (e.g. 'No Self Control', 'I Don't Remember', 'DIY'). A bit downbeat, his band seeming cautious in places, but by the time he was encoring with ‘Sledgehammer’ and ‘In your Eyes’, they were really into their stride. I have to confess that I drank too much and on arriving at Euston station with thirty five minutes before my train departed, I boarded and set my phone alarm. Work up fifty minutes later just outside Watford with the most resounding hangover I’ve had in a long time. Staggered home, threw up on the way, and felt like crap the following day. So – all in all – a splendid time.