Yesterday, I experienced two new things:
- a gig in a garden
- not tasting a self-bought bottle of wine.
The first of these introduced me to a live performance by John MOuse. Sitting in the sun with toddlers toddling around, a dog wee-ing on the lawn whilst listening to two guitarists and a vocalist convey the stark realities of life was bliss. I’ll happily admit that on first listening to John MOuse through the speakers of my iPhone, I wasn’t much enamoured. But, in a similar vain to my late-teens swift reassessment of Radiohead and The Smiths, this was quickly turned on its head after properly listening to them second time around (and this time there was an added bonus of burgers and hotdogs). The reason for this turnaround: because it was different. After five years of fleeting listens to Radio 1 (and Radio 2), my ears have become attuned to the expected. I will – without haste – be attending their next local gig where I look forward to the full shebang. I listened to the album Replica Figures through my iphone speakers the next day and – simultaneously – did nothing else.
Now, for the second on that list. Despite currently avoiding anything that might cause a Brahms and Liszt episode, I can still appreciate a good tipple from a whiff or by adding a splash to the odd culinary exploit. I wouldn’t disagree with someone who argued that £12.99 isn’t small change for a bottle wine, but, where else – other than Pen-Y-Lan Road’s The Bottle Shop – would you be reminded of a scene in Black Books where Dylan Moran freezes a bottle of wine to use as a lollipop, straight after being informed of Germany’s thriving microbrewery scene and the contravening of strict beer purity laws. Alas, I couldn’t request a taste test as my Becks Blue was slowly warming back home; I’ll watch Black Books, though.