The Wake

On my way home from downtown late one weekend night, I stepped off the bus near my flat to the sound of frighteningly serious chanting around the corner. I opted to investigate, and was astounded at the return. The organized chaos was coming from the Islamic Cultural Center of London, which was evidently a few blocks from my place. The large courtyard in-front of the building was filled with ceremoniously garbed Muslims, arms around shoulders, shouting in unison. I entered the yard and enquired about the cause of such excitement. It was none other than the annual holiday of Ashura. …

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I’m a little behind in my blog posting, as it’s been a whirlwind second week here in London. I’ll start with last Saturday. I went to a small basement club in the Tottenham area of Central London. I was initially denied at the door with the explanation of, “No football or rubgy shirts allowed.” I attempted a response but the pony tailed ogre was in no mood. He took a brisk step forward, placed his nose an inch from mine, and repeated, “NO FOOTBALL OR RUBGY SHIRTS ALLOWED,” this time with the full force of his baritone behind it. Unfortunately, …

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The Lionheart Brothers, straight outta Trondheim Norway, made their way to the Oxford Circus in London on Monday night to play The Social. I had originally intended to take the tube down to Ealing Broadway to watch a match and enjoy some discount pints. I stood at the station, with my Ipod on for some 15 minutes, nose in a book, before I realized there was no longer anyone else waiting. Apparently the message delivered earlier by the station attendant, whose accent was too thick for comprehension, had made clear the breakdown of the Bakerloo Line. Fortunately, I wasn’t entirely …

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I boarded my plane for London at 9:30pm in Chicago on Thursday. I had a window seat, with only one seat next to me. I watched excitedly as numerous diverse and seemingly interesting people walked slowly by, scanning the number above the seat. To my utter dismay, it was none other than a 70 year old man with a severe cough and strangely sprouting facial hair who finally sat down. He had a troubling tendency for putting his hands down his sagging pants, and was constantly standing up for unexplained reasons. To drown out the incessant hacking and wheeze infested …

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Conor Oberst made his return to the 400 Bar in Minneapolis on Saturday the 29th and Sunday the 30th of December. Oberst has a history of playing the 400; he was 18 for his debut on the 400 Bar’s stage. “It was the first place to ever pay me to play outside of Omaha.” He explained. Bill Sullivan, brother of owner Tom Sullivan, now manages Bright Eyes.
He played a set of entirely original material before returning for an encore. The encore consisted of Bright Eyes, “covers,” as Conor called them. “Southern State” and “A Man Named Truth” were two among …

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