![A Night in the Foundry, Thursday, 13th December, 2001
In late 2001 my then girlfriend and another friend documented their first visit to the Foundry in Shoreditch, London in a Moleskine notebook. On hearing the news that the Foundry is to be demolished and replaced with an 18-storey hotel, I dug out the notebook to reminisce about the good old, bad-old days.
[My girlfriend Alex started scribbling shortly after we arrived] Nik + Dave are on their second pints of Guinness + Stella respectively. We have taken the Northern Line to Old Street and find ourselves in the artisitic ‘FOUNDRY’.
From my point of view it has no heating but is of historic interest since Londoners used to bank here. There is a very pleasant vault. We have taken up residence in the old manager’s office along with a very ugly black cat - Nik however likes the cat which isn’t surprising. Timothy and Scott, two young spritely chaps originally from Dorset are joining the group shortly.
Unfortunately there is no other female present and I am unable to be partnered to the toilets. They are cold, lonely + graffitied. I am watching another young girl across the room pull her trousers up above her knees before descending the steep stairs down to the old vault where the toilets are located. I am not quite sure why she is doing this because the Ladies isn’t flooded. She, however, may be privy to some information unlike myself - a newcomer.
They have a large selection of books - Mills + Boon and some Japanese type stuff.
Scott and Tim have just walked in and the men are involved in the usual male bonding/greeting jeers.
Scott has just produced a mini tripod which extends… maybe it would be a nice present for Si…
Later… 10:30 p.m.
Having eaten some chips I am no longer freezing.
People are a little drunker. Dave walked around the quaint little place like a little arse asking others to sign his Mills + Boon novel, earlier stolen from the establishment. Dave is even more excited now. [At this point my friend Tim assumed documenting duties] Alex is as she always is, smiley, lovely to Nik and taking it all in. I am not sure about the ‘quaint little place’ stuff. Although it is definitely different it certainly isn’t quaint (in my opinion). There are no beams and no women wandering about with pinnies on and serving cream teas.
The music has got really cool. I like my friends. I am having a love my friends ‘moment’. Bubbles are bouncing inside and I wish Emma was here. She would have liked the cat (and the moment). It’s kinda weird that people would have been sat in here once sweating, overdrawn and praying for an extra £100. We sit here, Nik reading Mills and Boon, Dave loud but funny, music pumping. If the Bank Manager heard that track he would have approved £250 extra notes, packed his job in and thought twice about what he was doing.
LAST ORDERS!](http://29.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_kxc3vpYHc21qz4bv8o1_500.jpg "A Night in the Foundry, Thursday, 13th December, 2001
In late 2001 my then girlfriend and another friend documented their first visit to the Foundry in Shoreditch, London in a Moleskine notebook. On hearing the news that the Foundry is to be demolished and replaced with an 18-storey hotel, I dug out the notebook to reminisce about the good old, bad-old days.
[My girlfriend Alex started scribbling shortly after we arrived] Nik + Dave are on their second pints of Guinness + Stella respectively. We have taken the Northern Line to Old Street and find ourselves in the artisitic ‘FOUNDRY’.
From my point of view it has no heating but is of historic interest since Londoners used to bank here. There is a very pleasant vault. We have taken up residence in the old manager’s office along with a very ugly black cat - Nik however likes the cat which isn’t surprising. Timothy and Scott, two young spritely chaps originally from Dorset are joining the group shortly.
Unfortunately there is no other female present and I am unable to be partnered to the toilets. They are cold, lonely + graffitied. I am watching another young girl across the room pull her trousers up above her knees before descending the steep stairs down to the old vault where the toilets are located. I am not quite sure why she is doing this because the Ladies isn’t flooded. She, however, may be privy to some information unlike myself - a newcomer.
They have a large selection of books - Mills + Boon and some Japanese type stuff.
Scott and Tim have just walked in and the men are involved in the usual male bonding/greeting jeers.
Scott has just produced a mini tripod which extends… maybe it would be a nice present for Si…
Later… 10:30 p.m.
Having eaten some chips I am no longer freezing.
People are a little drunker. Dave walked around the quaint little place like a little arse asking others to sign his Mills + Boon novel, earlier stolen from the establishment. Dave is even more excited now. [At this point my friend Tim assumed documenting duties] Alex is as she always is, smiley, lovely to Nik and taking it all in. I am not sure about the ‘quaint little place’ stuff. Although it is definitely different it certainly isn’t quaint (in my opinion). There are no beams and no women wandering about with pinnies on and serving cream teas.
The music has got really cool. I like my friends. I am having a love my friends ‘moment’. Bubbles are bouncing inside and I wish Emma was here. She would have liked the cat (and the moment). It’s kinda weird that people would have been sat in here once sweating, overdrawn and praying for an extra £100. We sit here, Nik reading Mills and Boon, Dave loud but funny, music pumping. If the Bank Manager heard that track he would have approved £250 extra notes, packed his job in and thought twice about what he was doing.
LAST ORDERS!")
A Night in the Foundry, Thursday, 13th December, 2001
In late 2001 my then girlfriend and another friend documented their first visit to the Foundry in Shoreditch, London in a Moleskine notebook. On hearing the news that the Foundry is to be demolished and replaced with an 18-storey hotel, I dug out the notebook to reminisce about the good old, bad-old days.
[My girlfriend Alex started scribbling shortly after we arrived] Nik + Dave are on their second pints of Guinness + Stella respectively. We have taken the Northern Line to Old Street and find ourselves in the artisitic ‘FOUNDRY’.
From my point of view it has no heating but is of historic interest since Londoners used to bank here. There is a very pleasant vault. We have taken up residence in the old manager’s office along with a very ugly black cat - Nik however likes the cat which isn’t surprising. Timothy and Scott, two young spritely chaps originally from Dorset are joining the group shortly.
Unfortunately there is no other female present and I am unable to be partnered to the toilets. They are cold, lonely + graffitied. I am watching another young girl across the room pull her trousers up above her knees before descending the steep stairs down to the old vault where the toilets are located. I am not quite sure why she is doing this because the Ladies isn’t flooded. She, however, may be privy to some information unlike myself - a newcomer.
They have a large selection of books - Mills + Boon and some Japanese type stuff.
Scott and Tim have just walked in and the men are involved in the usual male bonding/greeting jeers.
Scott has just produced a mini tripod which extends… maybe it would be a nice present for Si…
Later… 10:30 p.m.
Having eaten some chips I am no longer freezing.
People are a little drunker. Dave walked around the quaint little place like a little arse asking others to sign his Mills + Boon novel, earlier stolen from the establishment. Dave is even more excited now. [At this point my friend Tim assumed documenting duties] Alex is as she always is, smiley, lovely to Nik and taking it all in. I am not sure about the ‘quaint little place’ stuff. Although it is definitely different it certainly isn’t quaint (in my opinion). There are no beams and no women wandering about with pinnies on and serving cream teas.
The music has got really cool. I like my friends. I am having a love my friends ‘moment’. Bubbles are bouncing inside and I wish Emma was here. She would have liked the cat (and the moment). It’s kinda weird that people would have been sat in here once sweating, overdrawn and praying for an extra £100. We sit here, Nik reading Mills and Boon, Dave loud but funny, music pumping. If the Bank Manager heard that track he would have approved £250 extra notes, packed his job in and thought twice about what he was doing.
LAST ORDERS!
May 26, 1993
I know a lot of coolies who suck and feed off the fact that they know about and (supposedly) enjoy unknown, obscure bands of present and past. These coolies thrive on their own little discoveries like those tiny fish who attach themselves to bigger fish and parasitically feed off the hosts’ droppings and burnt coffee.
The Raincoats were not very well known in the States — I don’t know about the U.K. and Europe. In fact, I don’t really know anything about The Raincoats except that they recorded some music that has affected me so much that whenever I hear it I’m reminded of a particular time in my life when I was (shall we say) extremely unhappy, lonely, and bored. If it weren’t for the luxury of putting that scratchy copy of The Raincoats’ first record, I would have had very few moments of peace. I suppose I could have researched a bit of history about the band but I feel it’s more important to delineate the way I feel and how they sound.
When I listen to The Raincoats I feel as if I’m a stowaway in an attic, violating and in the dark. Rather than listening to them, I feel like I’m listening in on them. We’re together in the same old house and I have to be completely still or they will hear me spying from above and, if I get caught — everything will be ruined because it’s their thing. They’re playing their music for themselves. It’s not as sacred as wire-tapping a Buddhist monk’s telephone or something because if The Raincoats really did catch me, they would probably just ask me if I wanted some tea. I would comply, then they would finish playing their songs and I would say thank you very much for making me feel good.
— Kurt Cobain (from the liner notes of the CD reissue of The Raincoats’ eponymous debut album)
Amazon Kindle 2: Centuries of evolved beauty rinsed away →
This week Amazon announced the UK launch of its latest generation of e-reader. But don’t all rush at once, warns Nicholson Baker – despite the hype, the Kindle 2 is still no match for the book.
