The Wake

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 breathing, I plugged my headphones into the seat and tuned in for some Radio. Coincidently, the first song I heard was “England Swings” by Roger Miller. It’s a classy, ’60s pop song, and might be worth looking up for a listen. It was short lived though, because the old man was quickly asleep and snoring; his elbow resting securely on the volume up bottom of my control panel. I had no choice but to sleep.

When I finally arrived, I took the Heathrow Express over to Paddington Station, and caught a cab to my flat in Kilburn Park. The driver and I chatted cordially throughout the 10 minute drive. I told him I was there for a study abroad an internship, and my main focus was London’s touted music scene. “Well I’m 45 now, but when I was your age, I used to love The Clash.” He claimed. His musical tastes were completely across the board. “I was a major Soul-kid growing up too. I used to be in the clubs a couple times each week, dancin’ to all the soul and R and B hits.” His favorite group of all-time was The Jam, a mod-revivalist group from the late 70’s to early 80’s They rocked the U.K. charts, but never achieved that same commercial success in the states. Their front man, Paul Weller, would go on to form another group named Style Counsel, which the cab driver also advocated strongly. Afterwards Weller would go on to record a few solo discs.

Later that night, still my first in town, I went down to Cock Tavern with a group of 10 students who live in my flat. It’s just a few blocks from my residence. They’ve got live Jazz every Thursday, but as we were all jet lagged, we left before it started at 22:00. I downed a pint of Guinness and a pint of Carling while enjoying the bar tenders choice of techno and listening to the locals chatter.

The next day, after several orientation sessions, I enjoyed my diner of left over trail mix from my carry-on and watched some of our 4 stations of T.V. That night I went to the Imperial College for a dance. It was an eventful night to say the least. On the way in, I ran into some fellow Americans with whom I talked over a pint of cider. The musical selections were strangely American. In one of the Pubs they were playing No Doubt’s monster 90’s classic, Tragic Kingdom. On the dance floor they were playing an odd mix of European techno and hot American Hip Hop from Timbaland and JT. At 2 in the morning, I made my way to the nearest bus stop and attempted to find my way home. Given I’d never taken a bus before, and I was several ciders deep, it probably wasn’t the best idea. To make a long story short: I got off at several wrong stops, was chassed by an opportunistic mugger, escaped on a bus going to wrong way, walked aimlessly for a while, hopped on an empty bus, got directions from an Algerian bus driver, and walked the 30 minute walk home.

The next day, Saturday, entailed several more orientations, and a stop at a Chelsea pub to watch the Chelsea V. Tottenham game. Fortunately, I’d opted not to wear my Hotspurs jersey that day, as I doubt it’d of gone over well with all the drunk Chelsea die-hards. We took a 3 hour bus tour of the city later than afternoon hitting all the big stops: Big Ben, St. Paul’s Church, London Bridge, and the like. That evening I went down to Piccadilly Circus and took my first crack at the Club Scene. When I first entered O’Neil’s, it was the stereotypical cool British one might expect. The first song was a remix of Amy Winehouse covering the Zuton’s, “Valerie.” This approach went to the wayside quickly though. A cover band took the stage at midnight, their first selection Eagle Eyed Cherry’s, “Save Tonight.” The had the club rocking to several other American hits with covers of several Killers tracks, and a few U2 and Oasis anthems for sing-alongs. I made a few friends from some town in Northern Germany and Vancouver and called it a night around 2. Today I’ll be attending the annual Russian Winter Festival in Trafalgar Square, featuring performances from International superstars Dima Bilan, Alisa, and DJ Lupin