I am within a stone's throw of the Olympic Park. I can see the topsy infulstructure out of my window, one of my regular laptop haunts, The Counter Cafe, has little more than a thin moat of water separating its world of freelancers and flat whites from what often feels like its going to be a giant egg and spoon race in the customs queue at JFK Airport.
As the opening closes in, my Olympic viewpoint is mellowing somewhat. Yes, I have no comprehension why somebody would choose to discipline their entire life around being the best at throwing a stick or rowing a boat so thin and precarious you could'nt even stick a comfy chair and a kettle on it. Yes, Lord Coe is a self important busybody with the crusty mannerisms of a small town GP. And yes, there will be Americans in positions of authority running round mispronouncing things. But, its going to happen, and like the Jubilee proved where thousands and thousands of people basically had a good time without necessarily thinking about why, the Olympics could actually be fun. A month of parties.
What's more. Blur are playing the closing ceremony. Of the two tracks they've just debuted, skip The Puritan which is a little, erm, The Great Escape. Head for Under The Westway, a title as cliched as Oasis coming back with a track called C'Mon Give Us Some Lasagne Yeah aside, this is Blur doing the tear jolting melodic thing they've always made their own : think The Universal; think The End. Don't Think Tank. Get it?
Me and my good buddy Tom Hyena are launching a new club night. And below is the poster. Tom is a big collector of the more psychedelic, fuzzy and offbeat end of music that you can dance to. Pressing on this will take you to one of his great Soundcloud mixes. I will be playing woozy hiphop and acid music. You will be able to dance to all of it. Come on down.
Pitched somewhere in the hypnogogic realm of freak pop, John Maus could be bedsitting in Twin Shadow's damp spare room, ignoring texts from Ariel Pink, wondering why Neon Indian nicked his beach towel. Bennington is a distant, distant cousin of Fade To Grey and is wonderful.
The above chap is Jami Welch, who operating from Berlin under the name Seams makes elegant affermations of life under the loose banner of electronic music for dancing to. It conjures images of a particularly happy sunrise in the Panorma Bar. Those eclectic chaps at Full Time Hobby have done the decent thing in signing him for the UK, and new EP Sleeper drops on July 30th.
I know nothing about French Mustache. However there is a lot to like here, Darius is melodic pulsating and not quiet slow enough to loose its groove but not fast enough to do anything but sit by a beach cafe, watch the waves and wait for the hangover to pass.