She Loves London

Author: She Loves London

I Went To See Daughter at The Forum in Kentish Town and it was Really Good

Last week I went to see Daughter at the Kentish Town Forum.

They’re a band fronted by Elena Tonra, whose voice is the aural equivalent of securing a free seat on the tube during rush hour when you’re a bit hungover.

Yep: she’s that good.

I did my usual thing of buying two tickets without checking if anyone wanted to come first, because successfully getting tickets for gigs in London is stressful enough without the added suspense of waiting for a double blue tick to decide your fate, and because someone is bound to want to go and see some live music if you tell them it’s free, even if It’s Not Really Their Cup of Tea Or They Think They Might Have Something On That Night Not Sure Can I Let You Know.

And that person is usually Harriet.

Me and Harriet 40 years from now

Harriet and I have been gifting each other gig tickets for about two years.

Not only is giving and accepting free tickets with other people a good way to see live music that you otherwise wouldn’t, but it also ensures that your friends consider you a valuable addition to their social circle, a bit like if you’ve got a mate who also happens to be a lawyer, or has a dog, or works in McDonalds, or can swipe you freebies from the make up counter at Selfridges*.

*if you would like to be this friend, pls let me know

The gig also coincided with Harriet’s 30th birthday, and I knew her ideal way to celebrate would be an evening of gloomy, slightly depressing yet relatable music, accompanied by several hundred pints of beer and an ill-advised G&T nightcap in the only pub still open at 12am in Kentish Town on a Thursday.

And to be fair, I wasn’t wrong.

Once inside, we managed to find a spot 100% unhindered by tall people.

This area was also seemingly free of Annoying and / or Noisy Bastards, who often have a habit of positioning themselves near me at music events.

We also made friends with a girl who was either Finnish or Flemish, and was there on her own, and therefore had no choice but to listen to Harriet talk about her love of Copenhagen and save our space on trips to the loo.

And oh, the music was really good.

Daughter have that knack of making the entire audience do a collective happy sigh within the first few notes of each intro, and even though the new album is, well, new and unfamiliar – somehow it already seems like you know each song.

Plus, it’s always a good thing when everything performed live in front of you sounds exactly like it does when you listen to it in your room, in bed, gently weeping at the fragility and unfairness of life in between episodes of Making a Murderer.

There’s just something about her music that you can relate to.

It was later the next day on Wikipedia that I found out why.

The reason it all seems so real to me is that the lead singer Elena is from Northwood, which is just one tube stop from where I grew up in the suburbs of London.

So now I’m even more sure that when we eventually meet and become best mates, it won’t just be a shared passion for beautiful music that bond us, but also our painful experiences of a youth spent waiting unknown amounts of time on cold platforms for Metropolitan line trains in and around north west London.

Just another normal day

Ah, that familiar zone 5 existential crisis. It all makes so much sense.

2nd February 2016
How to Herd Sheep Across London Bridge

My dad became a freeman of the city of London a few weeks ago.

Since this happened some people have asked me what it means. The short answer is “I’m not completely sure”, the long, vague answer is “he gets to go to dinners in really old halls and talk to other butchers” and the best answer is “don’t know but once a year he’s allowed to herd sheep across London Bridge”.

The latter is some sort of bonkers tradition that’s been going on for ages. As in, 13th century ages.

As far as I can tell, the main purpose of the sheep drive is to baffle tourists, give Barbara Windsor and the sheep a day out, and raise a fair whack of money for charity.

And this year I went along, because if your dad offers you the chance to herd sheep across London Bridge, the only possible answer is “yes, yes, of course, when?” – so that is what I did.

So because we’re now Certified Sheep Drivers, I see it as my duty to guide fellow Londoners through the process of herding sheep across London Bridge, should you ever need it yourself*.

(*Not a ridiculous idea. Stranger things have definitely happened.)

1. Befriend a Freeman of the City

Hang around at the Guildhall and collar a good one when they come out. They exist in three varieties: haired, non-haired, and hatted. Lady versions (not pictured) are also available.

2. Note your arrival time instructions

Also make sure your own flock have enough food for the day before you go out, because they can’t come.

3. Make your way to Famous London Bridge ™

4. (Um, the other famous London Bridge)

Look for pointy glass + sheep

5. Find whoever’s in charge around here

Captain dog of the sheep parade at your service, how may I help you

6. Stand near some important looking people

If in doubt, look for the people wearing hats. Important people are always wearing hats. If the people wearing hats also have a sticker with the same number as yours on it, even better.

7. Follow important looking people across the bridge

There they go! Setting off into the unknown, embarking on their mission, their destiny! Follow them! To the sheep!

8. Locate your flock

You will know it’s them because it’ll look like someone’s put down a nice carpet.

9. Stride with purpose behind sheep

Remember to look menacing, occasionally shout “come by!”, and make sure the crafty one on the left doesn’t run off. Aaannd smile for the camera.

10. Receive signed certification of your sheep driving abilities

Frame it, put it on your wall, then make a website and start charging for your niche new consultancy service.

11. Remember to thank the organisers.

They’re having a tough day.

If you also want to find out more details not covered by this highly informative blog post, trot over to the Worshipful Company of Woolmen who know loads about this sort of thing.

Hope you find this guide to driving sheep across a bridge useful. If you know of any sheep in need of herding, let me know.

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30th September 2015
Space Makes Me Nervous But I Went to See the Cosmonauts Exhibit at the Science Museum Anyway

Space makes me feel a bit weird.

It’s not space’s fault, it can’t help being a vast expansive uncharted mass of darkness that makes everyone who looks at it and thinks too hard do a mind-shrivel into a never-ending hole of circular questioning and self-doubt, and it can’t help being an omni-present reminder of our relative insignificance in the grand scheme of the universe.

It’s not Kim Kardashian for gods sake, it didn’t ask for this level of introspection.

Give it a break, it’s just space.

Space so deep

Even so, I’ll even admit to getting a little bit nervous when the topic of space comes up.

Because it might start with an innocent observation about the angle of Orion’s Belt, but it never stops there, does it?

You point and say something like “oh look, is that the Plough? That one?” and gradually the conversation turns and then you’re feeling a pull, a weight, an irrevocable tug.

And that, my friend, is your mundane constellation sighting gently reminding you that it’s all so infinite and endless, and the stars you’re looking at don’t even exist any more and haven’t been around for ages because it’s many light years and much distance and so oh god, oh god, where are they then, where did they go, it’s all just so big.

Lunar lander: massive, like space

So I try not to think too much about stuff…out there.

Far better to put space into a neat pile along with electricity, and phones, and Skype and things that I know exist, understand in theory, and as An Adult I should have a rudimentary scientific understanding of, but I don’t really, because how is my voice getting from here through a bit of wires and plastic to France again?

How?

Actually don’t worry, let’s leave it, it doesn’t matter.

Tell me later. Or don’t.

Let’s just have a cup of tea and eat some cheese.

This is where the first woman in space lived for like 3 days

And likewise, I know – in theory, and from pictures and news and astronauts on Twitter – that people go into space.

That humans and dogs and monkeys have been fired into the vast expanse around us on rockets, and that people are currently in massive, dark, neverending space right now just living there, investigating planets and moons, watching hurricanes tear up the Earth from thousands of miles away and floating around in special trousers, because there’s no gravity.

No air.

I’ll say that again: There’s NO. AIR.

So until you see space pods, and a cosmonaut’s kitchen table, and their trousers, and Russian lunar landers right there in front of you, it all seems a bit unreal.

A bit too much like it happened on TV or in Christopher Nolan’s shed, instead of actual real life in 1957 with a bloke called Yuri Gagarin and a spacecraft called, of all things, Sputnik.

But now all those sorts of things are in the Science Museum.

Before getting to London, these capsules and gadgets and things were only ever in two places: Russia, and space.

They got here by sea and road, and the really big items like the LK3 Lunar Lander had to be dismantled and put back together again inside, with the rest of the exhibit built around them.

And I felt pretty privileged to be in an empty Science Museum, sans all those people who sometimes make museums a bit of a faff, and able to see it.

The best sort of exhibition is one that tackles the things that make you intrigued and also a bit nervous about your place in the universe (see also: dinosaurs and dead people) and this is one of those.

Big old empty Science Museum
So if you’ve got even a passing interest in space travel, or the Russians, or mad decompression trousers and circular space pods, then Cosmonauts: Birth of the Space Age is a pretty good thing for you to see.

And if, like big massive infinite vast neverending god what is out there it can’t just be us can it not with all that space, you prefer your museum without many people in it, I noticed that the Science Museum is open late on Fridays until 8:45pm, so maybe give that a go.

Or don’t. But don’t blame me when the conversation about space comes up and you can’t contribute in a meaningful way.

Thank you to the Science Museum for inviting me to have a look around. The exhibition is on now and runs until 13th March 2016.

Bonus fact because you got this far: A cosmonaut is what the Russians called astronauts, ‘cos they allllways got to be different.

25th September 2015