Saturday, July 14, 2007
Downtown Lights
If there was a prize for “Being useless at finding your way around Manchester,” I'd put money on me and Girlfriend winning. We just don't get it. Where is everywhere, relative to everywhere else?
On the plus side, our sense of wonder and surprise is never diminished whenever we visit the City of Rain -
“Hey, isn't that the GMEX again? Didn't we just walk past that an hour ago?”
“Maybe that's a different one.”
“Yes. That'll be it. Definitely.”
I bought some new jeans, because my current pair has become so threadbare around the buttock regions that an embarrassing pants exposure incident can only be a matter of minutes away, in jeans time.
They remind me of Dodo, my childhood soft toy of choice. I loved that dog. Mum had to keep sewing his head back on.
Girlfriend bought a gothy type dress in Afflex Palace for the wedding we're going to – and that I'm photographing; yikes – in a few weeks. It looks nice whichever way round it's supposed to be worn.
In the evening we saw The Blue Nile play their first concert in three hundred years at the wonderful Bridgewater Hall.
They still sound just like they did in the Eighties; in fact, they sound just like the Eighties.
They make a lovely noise and your man Wotshisface is possessed of one of the most gorgeous goosebumps voices, and some achingly beautiful songs.
One I'd not heard before, Family Life, was especially evocative - “Gather me in snowfall, and the cars going by the north and the south; flowers on the table and the coffee gets cold like the milk in my mouth.”
There was oodles of enjoyment to be had simply from watching the more devoted fans – and Blue Nile fans are nothing if not devoted; quasi-religious in their reverence, almost – lapping it all up, hanging onto every sweet, sad note, every word, loving every last drop of it. Which is kind of magical, really.
Here's a picture of an interesting old pub - note the juxtaposition of the ancient with the modern, blah blah - tucked away a mere hundred yards or so from the Bridgewater Hall. That'd be a good half hour's walk then.
On the plus side, our sense of wonder and surprise is never diminished whenever we visit the City of Rain -
“Hey, isn't that the GMEX again? Didn't we just walk past that an hour ago?”
“Maybe that's a different one.”
“Yes. That'll be it. Definitely.”
I bought some new jeans, because my current pair has become so threadbare around the buttock regions that an embarrassing pants exposure incident can only be a matter of minutes away, in jeans time.
They remind me of Dodo, my childhood soft toy of choice. I loved that dog. Mum had to keep sewing his head back on.
Girlfriend bought a gothy type dress in Afflex Palace for the wedding we're going to – and that I'm photographing; yikes – in a few weeks. It looks nice whichever way round it's supposed to be worn.
In the evening we saw The Blue Nile play their first concert in three hundred years at the wonderful Bridgewater Hall.
They still sound just like they did in the Eighties; in fact, they sound just like the Eighties.
They make a lovely noise and your man Wotshisface is possessed of one of the most gorgeous goosebumps voices, and some achingly beautiful songs.
One I'd not heard before, Family Life, was especially evocative - “Gather me in snowfall, and the cars going by the north and the south; flowers on the table and the coffee gets cold like the milk in my mouth.”
There was oodles of enjoyment to be had simply from watching the more devoted fans – and Blue Nile fans are nothing if not devoted; quasi-religious in their reverence, almost – lapping it all up, hanging onto every sweet, sad note, every word, loving every last drop of it. Which is kind of magical, really.
Here's a picture of an interesting old pub - note the juxtaposition of the ancient with the modern, blah blah - tucked away a mere hundred yards or so from the Bridgewater Hall. That'd be a good half hour's walk then.

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