It's my own fault. I was late. I wander into Spoonful of Poison (Stratford) at 8pm to find Vice Magazine filming acts performing and Dangerous T being interviewed. I find Vis the Spoon and sign up for what will turn out to be a midnight "headline" set with Vice long gone but a hardy bunch of open mic veterans and drunk pub people in attendance.
My brother and his wife arrive. A man dressed in a long fluorescent jacket and wearing a gas mask last seen in a Slipknot video is randomly hitting a stick connected to a wire plugged into an amp (pictured). He makes ambient noise for ten minutes. My sister-in-law goes looking for another drink.
Spoonful is weird. Spoonful is great because it's this weird. Following the ambient noise terror there is an eighties disco-beat backed singer who can't sing, a punk poet who shouts swear words randomly, the mighty return of Spinmaster Plantpot + some singer/songwriters everyone ignores because they don't have the impact of the rest. Plus Nick Purves and Lizanne being funny. And me.
How to judge if a song is landing when your audience are trashed is tricky but I get shouting from some quarters for One Shot. Most of the assembled are warmed up by the time we hit West End and by the time I launch into the brand new Clicking Like there are less people but they're focussed. An AC/DC fan is waving his hands in the air and Spoon seems to like the nu metal edge. My sister-in-law has passed out from her 7th double gin and tonic and my brother is chatting to a band about fatherhood.
All in all, pretty memorable.