Noodles are the taste of denial that you will ever grow up

[millionreasons]

Out to the wilds of South London to meet Daves# 1 and 2 in the Trinity. It’s been so long since I’ve been out in Brixton that I can’t remember where t’pub is, despite me having wiled away several hours over a bottle of light ale and a bag of dry roasted after an indie art-house film at the Ritzy, back in the day when I was a Sarf Landan girl. We go on to the Satay Bar for yummy Malaysian and Thai food and Caribbean cocktails and then up Brixton Hill to the scout hut Windmill pub. SW9 is full of shiny glittery sapphire lights, which puts paid to the Daily Mail-inspired rant-cum-rumour that Lambeth had Banned Christmas. The first two groups are trad. support bands (i.e. dull) and so we sit at the back and talk to Alice ‘n’ Steve and Marisa ‘n’ Paul until the headliners, the slightly bonkers and very Swedish Suburban Kids with Biblical Names, come on in all of their geeky glory. They play all the hits, including Rent a Wreck which is not so much ba-ba-ba as 2 mins 59 of bom-ber-dom-ber-dom-bom and is about going on tour and made so much sense when the Malmo kids played it to us back in June (“getting taped by locals”), Noodles which is about er, noodles and Trumpets and Violins which sounds like the Magnetic Fields if they got married to Architecture in Helsinki. And if you scroll down on this page, you can download MP3s, like, legally.