A new era

OK, today marks a new beginning for PeteFalls. No more will I slump in a gloomy kitchen, weeping and banging the table as another article is rejected by God. From now on, I'm going to become a proper digital journalist and get down with all this techie shit.

So, to kick off the new era ... a good old-fashioned, well-out-of-date, 'look what I did yesterday' post.

That's because what I did yesterday was to go and watch Friendly Fires at the Roundhouse. Last minute free tickets (life is good). Positioned upstairs in the seating area with the executive set (life is distinctly mediocre). Coursing with jealousy because I'm not fronting a successful band yet (life is short).

Frontman Ed Macfarlane is a gem, cavorting all over the stage like one of the greats. It's said that Twitter harbours a Eureka! moment - the instant when it all becomes clear and you become a hooked, slavering addict. From then on, you might as well sellotape your iPhone to your forehead. Last night was the night when, for me, Friendly Fires' brand of synthesised dance-pop suddenly made sense. Music like this is what Franz Ferdinand were thinking of when they said they wanted to 'make music for girls to dance to', and kicked off the latest wave of guitar music. Because, believe me, the girls were dancing.

Afterwards, in the pub toilets, I happened across a sheet of poems nailed (blu-tacked) to the toilet wall. I haven't been so moved since the end of Forrest Gump. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you My Pet Fish by That Perfect Fumble:

My pet fish
Had no friends
My pet fish
Set no trends
My pet fish
Had odd lusts
My pet fish
Liked small busts

My pet fish
Touched some babies
My pet fish
Got shot in the face,
in the woods, by the
villagers, like a dog
with rabies.

They strung him up
And burnt his corpse
And with eyes of red
into my face of sad,
They told me to think
of another name for
my Dad.

Utterly brilliant. That Perfect Fumble, aka Keir Mills, can be found on Myspace here.