Bought a pair of new jeans and after 4 weeks of swimming / gymming I now have a 30 inch waist. Just thought you'd like to know. See you on Monday ;)
At Alexander Palace the huge queue snakes around the entire building. We wait outside in the cold for the doors to open and let us in. I realise how beautiful Goths are. Sure, some are frumpy with badly applied mascara (black tears are the unisex makeup du jour) but there’s a lightness to Goths that betrays their dark exterior.
The queue is enormous but there’s no pushing or cutting in. Will explains that Goths are very polite.
A nervous girl hands out flyers for her band.
“If you like Marilyn you’ll like us” she says, coyly passing me a photocopied flyer featuring a naked girl with a knife.
All of a sudden the queue lurches forward. I panic and ring Will and his friend Burak (who’s light as a Goth - but Turkish) because they’re getting food at a kiosk and I don’t want to get sucked into the concert without them. They hide their burgers and we walk through Security and join everyone else in the main room.
Peaches is on stage singing. She’s tiny all alone up there and people keep throwing plastic bottles. Next to me are three baby Goths. They can’t be older than 12. They smell of fabric softener but have perfect little Goth get-ups –angry black t-shirts, leather collars, safety pins & black lips.
Peaches finishes her set by giving us the finger, spitting fake blood and yelling “I win, I win!” before the lights come back on like we're at the cinema. Burak returns from the front of the stage and explains that everyone was booing Peaches. He’s a big fan. They play Prodigy's Fat of the Land
while setting up onstage and the last of the audience filters in. A few chords are played and the crowd roars and gives the rock
sign. I notice there’s a closed off section especially for VIPs and people in wheelchairs.
Finally Marilyn Manson appears on a podium, sitting in a throne. He’s lit from below and even from where I’m standing I can see the mean shadows cast over his face. The band comprises four musical gimps with bleached white hair and two girls who can high kick. The theme is a vaudeville show of the grotesque but it’s much tamer then I’m expecting. There’s a little simulated oral sex behind a screen and Marilyn dresses up like a distorted Mickey Mouse - a corporate black faced minstrel – but there’s no chaos and nothing shocking. I’m enjoying the music (especially “Sweet Dreams” and “Be Obscene”) but I’m also secretly pleased it’s not too loud. I think how interesting it would be to meet Marilyn Manson as I watch a drunk man in front of me pretend to cut his wrists and neck with a piece of broken plastic cup.
There’s been pandemonium in the office the past few days apparently. Google has changed its algorithms (the things that decide what gets ranked no 1 on searches) and so it affects everything we know about online marketing, blah blah blah. I must have been listening to Woman’s Hour with my head phones when they made the announcement.
I’m going to the Marilyn Manson concert tonight and I’m very nervous about it. I’m not really a fan and I’m afraid that they’ll know and get me on stage and get me naked or something. Will & I want to do something edgy now and then to stop us becoming a complacent couple. I remember when being edgy meant buying a cup of tea instead of coffee at Starbucks.
"A Marilyn Manson performance in Kansas City, Missouri, on Thursday night ended in chaos when the crowd rioted following the show's abrupt cancellation due to safety concerns."
p.s. I've added a button so you can add comments on the right. Just click on the "Visit my Forum" button and you can wax lyrical. Go on, wax lyrical dammit.
Text from Kate
“The worlds first albino gorilla has died, aged 40.”
Selection of gems I discovered at work today (they are all safe to look at in front of small children)
Gap for Goths
Not enough man skirts in the world
Some mothers do ‘ave ‘em
She is NOT a teenage mother
It’s My Life (the cover version by No Doubt)
Before Night Falls (too erotic for the Tube though)
Email from Christopher
“Tell Will that US artist Peter Cincotti recently recorded a version of Kermit the Frog’s "Rainbow Connection" (from the original Muppet Movie) and it got to number two in the US billboard.”
And finally, the Sarcasm Corner…
Text from Olly
“Thanks for the dinner invite? Mmmmm. Would love to come round. SOME time xx”
File Under "So Gay"
Kylie's Body Language
is number 6 in the charts
Her other albums peaked at:
Kylie (88) 1
Enjoy yourself (89) 1
Rhythm of love (90) 9
lets get to it (91) 16
greatest hits (92) 1
Kylie minogue (94) 4
kylie minogue/impossible princess (98) 10
light years (00) 2
fever (01) 1
In other words - Not good!
In defence of Kylie...
- She still had a number one single - something that was (although not to everyone's liking) slightly original, especially when you look at the competition (I mean, bless Busted but they're a poor man's Wheatus). In the publics eye a number one single is extremely important and in some ways more so than Album sales.
- It was impossible to rival the success of the pop phenomenon that was Can't Get You Out of My Head
. I thought that Kylie's new single would fare much worse in comparison.
- She has also managed to launch (reinvention à la la la Madge) a new fashion style with this album (which undoubtedly earns her more money than album sales). Therefore as a PR exercise for "Kylie the brand", Body Language
has been highly successful. The girl will be selling a lot of knickers/calendars/newspapers.
- She has jumped on the 80's bandwagon but not in a Holly Valence "desperate to be cool" kinda way.
- Many people will be waiting for the second single before buying the album, not completely convinced by Slow. If she can launch a fun upbeat number (Both you and Joe say there's at least one on the album) we could see Body Language
sales stay in the top twenty for a long time.
- This album has already gained her respect from the biz because it's seemed as a brave move musically. It's not pandering to anyone; as Joe said "it's a grower".
- At least she didn't do a duet with Sting, Elton or (shudder) Madge.
1) Having a number one single does have more prestige, sure. But singles don't make money. CGYOUFH sold 300,000 in it's first week. Slow did 25,000 and made it to the top because of a very quiet week. In addition, the importance of having a No 1 is being undermined by those low sales in that anyone can have a N0 1 these days. Westlife have had 12 - name any of them? Anyone? Anywhere? Exactly.
2) The Kylie brand might do well out of it, but none of that will benefit Parlophone, who spent a fortune on promoting the album. That show cost a million to stage alone. So Kylie will always do well from Love Kylie and all the rest but if the sales don't happen, she'll dropped (nb she's been dropped twice before, from PWL and Deconstruction). Parlophone promoted Light Years heavily for a year and that didn't make them a penny.
3) The other possible choices for the next single are not really any more commercial than Slow - singles sell albums, so a long-selling album will not be on the cards this time. I predict it will be out of the Top 20 in two weeks time and it's hard to recover from that. Xmas market is kicking in already and it's Greatest Hits time (no explaining Tori Amos though).
4) BL did 35,000 last week - c/f 400,000 for Dido and 200,000 for Kylie's last album. Whatever way you look at it, only one Kylie album has opened lower in 12 years - and that launched with Some Kind of Bliss, a No 22 single. Established artists' albums very rarely pick up in time, especially not when they've had blanket exposure for the last month.
5) Kylie might not have duetted with any of those people, no - but she duetted with Kermit the fucking frog last year!!! That in itself is enough to banish her from the charts for life.
I rest my case, you gay boy Kylie lover!
I’ve got Millionaire potential
“You've got top-dollar millionaire potential. You're careful with your money and have a healthy attitude to it. You're hard-working and determined to be successful.”
Believe me, sometimes the only way I can go on living in London is the thought that one day I’ll look back on these frugal times and laugh a rich man’s hearty laugh.
Agh! Where has the day gone?
We had Kate & Tom over the other night as our first dinner guests. It was fantastic, Will cooked and Kate and I talked over each other like the good old days. Tom was in good spirits too, especially since its only been a few weeks since his father died. They both talked about how they were dealing with death (Kate lost her brother recently) and it was so beautifully sad.
I just received a call from my modeling agency and I have my first gig in a few weeks at some ϋber swanky ball. I will have to rent a tux.
Find a bridge & get over it
When I arrived in London I was disappointed by the sky line. Brought up on a diet of American TV I surmised that every impressive city would have tall and imposing buildings, but I soon realised that London had only a handful of lonely skyscrapers. Individually the cloud busters didn’t stand up to much (the Canary Wharf building for example, is stuck way out on… the Canary Wharf. Centrepoint, though very central, is hardly very imposing at, yawn, 117 metres tall) so I resigned myself to the fact that however impressive London seemed both in finance & culturally it was much too flat and uninteresting. And I’m not alone. Research published by the London School of Economics argues that tall buildings are desperately needed, even if it’s for the much more secondary function of coping with a rapidly growing population.
However my opinion, like so many things in this great complex city, was quick to change. I had just moved south of the river into my first flat and after a big night drinking I was hurtling home in a Danger Cab. Now, most of my travel had been underground on the Tube so you will have to forgive my ignorance; I was yet to cross a bridge in London. Note: the accompanying soundtrack to this particular epiphany is an angelic choir of children possibly singing something by Handel.
The minicab hurried onto Waterloo Bridge. The choir begins with gusto.
There is little to prepare you for the panoramic feast of crossing the Thames for the first time, especially when drunk. Big Ben’s clock tower and the ominously Gothic Houses of Parliament loomed to my right, instantly recognizable yet somehow strange and alien, like a half remembered dream. St Paul’s Cathedral, a giddy 360 degree to my left, sat smugly with a halo of cranes surrounding its bald dome. An abnormally large Ferris Wheel lit up bright across the river seemed to churn the dark syrupy water. And my instant favourite, The Tate Modern Gallery, looked every bit the film extra from Metropolis
And then, much too quickly, it was over.
I was so moved (and still quite drunk) that I actually asked my cabby if we could turn around and go back (he declined). Instead the blurry image of bright lights on black river traveled with me all the way home and through the next day, and the next. Indeed each time I crossed the river; over the London, Vauxhall or Tower Bridges, I was struck with my sense of place in the City, of its rich past and our mutual future. London was a place of Kings and Queens and water and stone and life.
As the saying goes, to pontificate about a view is like “dancing about architecture” so thankfully modern technology and the BBC are here to help me out. The Beeb have a nifty device that allows you stand, virtually, in the middle of the Millennium Bridge (Click here to launch it
) and survey the scene yourself. That’s probably the best way to approach the Millennium Bridge, the newest link over the River Thames, infamous for being the worst designed (it was discovered on the day of its grand unveiling, that people walking across bridge caused it to swing side to side in a very unfriendly manner). Don’t be put off by the dark London sky either; however intimidating those grey clouds appear they will not rain on you.
So that taxi journey sold me on London and, not to overstate the point, is one of the reasons I’ve stayed. London may not have the climate of a Barcelona, the grand phallic skyline of say a New York or a Hong Kong but it won me over with it’s convergence of river and land, bridges acting like tiny stitches between North & South. As David Blain explained before he climbed into his Perspex box that just happened to be set on the bank of the Thames, the fact that he would have “no food, no sex, no phones, no books, no music, no television, no privacy and no other stimulus” did not perturb him. Well of course not David. Not with such a lovely view.
Written by Andrew Davies
I take it all back. He has been busy.
(thanks to SJSC for sending me the image btw)
The (un)official Andrew Kinlochan fansite
would like to announce that Andrew is the new cover model for the Gay Times! It’s quite a risk, jumping on the gay band wagon this early on in his career. If the likes of Will Young & Stephen Gately have done anything for pop it has been to present a wholesome and unthreatening image of young gay men to the general masses. But Phixx seems to a bit racier than Boyzone with their ripped denim and bondage lite. Will Young has always been bland and asexual so it will be interesting to see how fans (remembering that most of them are 10 year old girls) react to a less cuddly, more sexually confidant young gay pop singer.
(Drew steps off soap box)
I am well too - no magazine covers yet but talks with Home & Garden look promising.
Andrew Kinlochan update
The single is number 36 on the charts. I am a bit disappointed that Andrew - or indeed any of the Phixx boys - hasn’t been up to anything more exciting than a pop concert in Huddersfield which was described by Sally Wells
(12) as “quite good.” Where’s the rock & roll boys?
I’m all moved in without a major hitch - except for a slight freak out by me on Saturday morning (Question: is this all to fast? Answer: Don’t think so) - and so now we have a dahling little flat in Angel. Love living in a place called Angel. The only complaint is that the flat is not edgy enough (it has wicker furniture). I suggested a paint enema on canvas but for some reason Will didn’t warm to the idea. Guess it is a bit too Tracey Emin.
My sister is having a baby boy! And they are naming him Harrison (Harri for short). Holly hasn’t quite given birth yet but…
“He’s arriving in a week or two now and they think he is going to be small, hence I have to have a scan every week to make sure he keeps growing! They might induce me next week if he hasn’t grown by this Wednesday.”
The name Harri reminds me of My Naughty Little Sister & Bad Harry the book we used to love as kids. We even had it on tape, read by Felicity Kendal
. Man, I’m going to be an Uncle.
I almost forgot…
WELCOME TO THE OFFICIAL ANDREW KINLOCHAN FAN SITE!!!
Well so far I’ve received zero excited emails from fans thanking me for taking on the responsibility of the site dedicated to our Andy but I’m not too hurt. One day when he’s a huge solo artist signed with Virgin for a squillion pounds, then you’ll be sorry, all of you!
I am trying to build a profile:
Member of Boy Band – Phixx
24 years old
Lop sided smile
This is harder than I thought…
The only thing worse than being talked about…
Andrew Kinlochan is the gay member (tee hee) of the new Brit Boy Band Phixx. If you don’t know him you can go to his website… well actually you can’t. I just checked it out and found this;
The Andrew Kinlochan Fan Site
Last Updated: 28/10/03
Welcome to the first ever Andrew Kinlochan fan site!
Hi! Sorry everyone, but this website is never actually going to happen properly. I don't have the time, I'm sorry to say. However, for anyone who has come across this site and doesn't already know, Andrew is now a member of the boyband Phixx, with the other 4 runners up from Popstars. So check them out!
Bye for now!
Alas gentle reader, we will never get the promised “discography” about young Andrew. No, dang it all, we can’t let this happen! If not enough drew in the world was created for anything it was, well, to talk about me mostly - but I can multitask! Perhaps, Perhaps…
Ladies & Gentleman, I have just consulted our lawyers and I have an announcement to make!
As the former website seems to have folded I would like to Phixx the problem (see what I did there?) & offer a new home for Andrew Kinlochan and his fans everywhere! Yes, you are now at the OFFICIAL ANDREW KINLOCHAN FAN SITE
(Or "not enough Andrew in the world.") Hooray!!!
The big guy himself!
I will have news, reviews & updates on how Andrew is coping with the other members of the band (four straight boys) when they keep taking their shirts off and asking for shoulder rubs; exclusive pics and hopefully an exclusive interview with ANDREW KINLOCHAN HIMSELF!
This is going to be great.
OK, OK, so no news at the moment except that Phixx’s single “Hold On Me” is now number 24 (dropping 10 places). You heard it here first! Go Andrew!
Here is a selection of the two paged
inventory we received today when we met the Landlord (he lives above the flat) at lunch. The bracketed text is his too:
1 pair printed curtains
1 nest of 3 tables (NB All a bit wobbly & glass slightly scratched)
1 large plastic pot
2 doormats (Cut to fit step)
2 potato peeler (1 bent)
6 teaspoons (3 matching, 3 different)
1 double egg cup
1 dustbin (old)
1 floor standing halogen lamp (Do not finger the bulb)
Will looked noticeably pale when we left, opening & closing his mouth as if he were struggling for air. I felt just like Andie MacDowell in Green Card but I think we passed due to my nausea-inducing corniness that always comes out in those situations, which, thankfully, they mistake as charm.
The Weather Project © Olafur Eliasson Photo: Jens Ziehe
The only downside about having a rich and fast paced life is that it’s hell to write about in a linear & comprehensive manner. Thank Krishna for lists…
1. Didn’t get the job. Sophie called and let me down gently but I still wanted to scratch out her eyes.
2. Will emailed with the news that he was not moving into the flat in Tottenham Court Road as they were now selling the house.
3. Friday night I took Will to the Tate Modern to watch the sunset
. Had a magical time as only two people in love can - sitting underneath a huge art installation eating jelly babies.
4. We discussed our living arrangements. We were both looking for rooms in North London. We wanted to live close to each other. We were both running out of time. So we decided to move in together. It’s a cold calculated move born out of necessity and fuelled by love actually and it makes me happy every time I think about it.
5. Saturday morning we went to Angel and found a one bedroom flat. My mother will love it. The walls are terracotta and there are tiles in the kitchen with geese on them. There was a glazed look in our eyes as we imagined our new love nest brimming with books, half finished manuscripts and acceptance letters from publishers. If our luck continues we’ll move in this Friday. Halle-friggin-lujah!
Last night I began my search in earnest for a new home. It was terrifying. I think the only way I’m going to handle the process is by writing about it in the style of an American teen dromedy.
The lady with a strong Eastern European slur who showed me a self contained studio shook her head.
“You’re quite tall aren’t you?”
I am. 6 foot 2 to be exact. Which was slightly taller than the room itself. Trying desperately not to get wedged between the floor and the ceiling I did the whole “what’s the storage space like?” before announcing that I was “looking for a bit more space”. Like maybe a few inches above my head.
When I got back to Len’s place (four awful rooms later) I felt like throwing myself at his feet and begging him to let me stay in his darling wee apartment forever & ever. Then Will called with news of his new place, just off Tottenham Court Road, walking distance to everywhere
, just needs a lick of paint… I tried really hard not to sound dejected.
I need a home. And some new shoes. Home. Shoes. Then I won’t need anything ever again.
Oh dear Wachowski brothers. How did it all go so wrong? Granted, I haven’t seen the new film yet but it’s been slated by the press ("The Matrix Revolutions sucks" -- Peter Travers, ROLLING STONE). Andy has probably smashed another chair against one of the columns that surrounds his Grecian style pool, while Larrie (the quieter of the two) has locked himself in the Viewing Room and is watching Soylent Green
Last night went off without a bang. You see, we missed the fireworks because we were stuck in the Tube and when Will & I surfaced we discovered that Olly had got the time wrong. The bonfire night display at Clapham Common finished
at 8. Will needed food (he’s fallen out with his flatmates and is avoiding eating so he doesn’t have to talk to them in the kitchen), I needed to pee and the Scoobies needed to be met. Will got a little “you go meet your friends and I’ll find something to eat” stroppy but I wasn’t having it. I frog marched him to a Sainsbury’s where we bought filled sandwiches and then together we walked to meet Olly, Kate et al at a bar.
Highs/lows included –
Lesley wearing her “Hello Kitty” hat, me wondering if Gavin had heard that I recently described him as "like a smack addict gone cold turkey”, Kate being described in QX magazine as “fierce”, Tom describing his Dad’s funeral and getting defensive when I mentioned that Kate & I should go for a meal soon, Olly sizing up Will, Will nervously meeting everyone.
So that wasn’t so hard was it?
Have spent the whole of last night and today writing that bloody article about mortgages for Sophie. I think my brain has congealed.
I'm reading Life of Pi
and all the animals are eating each other. It made me feel queasy on the bus.
Its bonfire night and I’m going to Clapham Common to see the fireworks. Will gets to finally meet the Scoobies on their home turf. Who will win? My moneys on the sparklers.
Well I know the question on your cute little lips is did he get the job? The answer is maybe. I didn’t hear from Sophie yesterday although she promised to call (right, she’s off my Christmas card list) so this morning I sent a little email. I was very surly at work all day so Sophie’s eventual reply cheered me up no end -
Sorry for the delay, I was a bit optimistic with how quickly we could turn this around!
I will get back to you in the next couple of days, and it would be great if you could send me the article once it’s completed.
Again sorry for not getting back to you sooner
Hooray! She’s just useless like me! Oh Sophie, let’s never fight again (However what the hell does “turn this around” mean? Ring me up and tell me I’ve got the friggin’ job already. That’s what I call a good turn around. Capeesh?)
Last night Jo & I tripped the light fantastic in a few of Soho’s finest bars. Red wine was sipped at the Dome, burgers devoured at Café Emm, gin & tonics were thrown back at the G.A.Y. bar & something else (I can’t quite remember what) was guzzled at Ku. All in all it was a deliciously tacky evening. At the restaurant we had just started our meals when a boy I’d met in Ibiza sat down next to us with his date. It was all a bit awkward. We’d met at Space and played some tonsil hockey but nothing more came of it. I mean its Ibiza. I was a bit too drunk to do the polite conversation thing and they were practically sitting on our laps but Jo, ever discrete, realised that I was a tad uncomfortable and announced that we should leave soon “or miss the movie.” Love Jo.
As he was getting the last round at the last bar - Will called, sounding all alone and unloved. Drunk with love & alcohol I resolved to go over to his place and pass out on his bed as soon as I arrived. I’m a real charmer me.
Due to excessive weekend debauchery Drew’s brain is currently unavailable for comment. We apologise for any inconvenience this may have caused.
I had to run into the box room last night as Len (who I'm staying with until I find a new place) had just brought his date home. I felt like his frumpy (but still giggly) older sister.
I arrived and for some reason felt I shouldn't sit. So instead I stood near the display of brochures, just standing, flipping through one of their client’s magazines, trying not to gawp at the open plan office that screamed "CUTTING EDGE MEDIA COMPANY!" I mean, I went to Drama School. I write plays. I chose a life of an artist over financial security but at that moment, Gentle Reader, I would have given it all up for an ergonomic mouse and a swivel chair to call my own.
I was greeted by Sophie who turned out to be a tall striking woman barely out of her twenties, with unfussy brown hair tied back in a pony tail and cheeks so ruddy they looked bruised. I liked her instantly. I was also introduced to Gillian, the current Web Editor, shorter and with a slight Germanic accent; she looked bookish and very good at her job.
They took me into “Generic Meeting Room 3” and we began the ritual. They asked me about the web sites and I think I scored points by using the phrase “sense of community”. They didn’t seem too concerned with all my online marketing malarky so I kept it short. Basically the job boils down to maintaining an international site about ATM’s, a supermarket and a financial company. I’d be responsible for commissioning other writers and would have a quota of articles to complete myself.
My only faux pas happened when they brought up money. I dithered and then blurted out a figure that I felt was reasonable. Sophie giggled. “You must be paid a pittance in your current job.”
I am Sophie, I am. I wanted her to give me a hug and tell me it would be all Okay.
I have a habit of counting my mung beans before they sprout, but here’s what I consider the positive evidence;
1. Body language. I was watching a documentary a few weeks ago that explained that if people liked you they copied your body language. I had my hands held together on the table in front of me. As the interview progressed so did Sophie & Gillian.
2. They asked me to send in some more writing. I also know (through Mike who’s doing some temping there and told me about the job in the first place) that they didn’t really like the first people interviewed and they only had one to go after me.
3. When I emailed the writing they asked for I received this –
Thanks for this, I will give you a call on Monday.
Have a good weekend
Goodbye Hendon Ghetto, hello Regent Street!
Afterwards I met Will at the Sanctuary in Soho for a cheeky pint and to have our first falling out. Okay, so maybe I was a bit sensitive. I was telling Will about Kate and how I missed her and he sniggered. Most of the time I don’t take myself too seriously but it was the wrong snigger at the wrong time. I’m a bit of a fight or flight kind of guy so I did my whole “I think I have to go” routine and Will looked puzzled, then annoyed, then sulky, all in roughly 2.6 seconds. He demanded to know what he’d done and I realized that I really had to sort out my kvetch with my friends because it had started to leak into my shiny new relationship. So we made up and promised to fight lots but not run away (me) and not to sulk for too long (him).
I have friends again, well most of them. Jo called and told me that Kate’s boyfriend’s Dad had died and they were away at the funeral (which explained her not returning my calls). Note to self - the world does not always revolve around drew. Later Olly called and I apologized for missing his birthday. Without the desire to self flagellate, I think you could accurately describe me as being a tad selfish of late.
As a bit of a side project I’ve started some online marketing for this here blog. I have become a member of the vegetarian webring (thanks guys, let’s never eat meat again!) and have listed myself on a few directories. But it has been the names of other blogs that have interested me most;
Blah Blah, Black Sheep
Rockabilly Librarian Retro Blog
A Woman Who Loves Insects
Arab, Latino & American. Confused? Me too.
Dust From My Brain
Kill Your Boyfriend
You’ll Dance To Anything
Lacking in Emotional Content
Notes on Things That Interest Me
Self-Inflicted Yuppie Flu
(Which turned out to be a porn site)
Smart & Miserable
Not you, the other one
Diary of a Mad Handyma’am
There Are No More Tickets To The Funeral
Up our asses with the rest of our jewelry
Ladies & Gentleman, the World Wide Web…