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Paul Saunders & the Fever Dreams

Paul Saunders & the Fever Dreams

I have had a very busy slash exhausting weekend of pretending that I am a proper journalist, which mainly involved proudly showing people my dictaphone. It is lovely you see. Shiny and black.

Anyway, on Friday night I did my first ever interview with Haydn from Brainwash Promotions, who was very lovely and gave me some of his houmous. You can read the resulting article (on Brainwash Festival, which is in October, and is always excellent funtimes) over at Culture Vulture.

On Sunday I went down to Xibit to meet up with Susan Platt (aka Ian, who is a sometime tranny & DJ and had just finished walking a mile in enormous pink heels to raise money for breast cancer) to interview her about cultural diversity in Leeds. This one was a bit trickier as I had less of an idea what I wanted to do with the article (still don’t, really – I have to try to write the thing this evening) but, y’know. CHALLENGES, etcetera? It was nice to finally meet him anyway, and I got a roast dinner. Nom.

I also went to a couple of gigs, though I feel ill-equipped to review them due to conflict of interest. On Saturday I saw Epic45/ Yellow6/ El Heath at Royal Park – my friend Eric plays in the former and latter, and made me homesick by dedicating part of his set “to the readers of The Shropshire Magazine” and doing a song about Bishop’s Castle. He had an accordian and lots of twiddly electronics. Someone needs to sort out the leak at Royal Park Cellars, the place smells like an actual drain.

On Sunday I saw Paul Saunders’ new outfit (in terms both musical and his truly astonishing jumper), Paul Saunders and the somethingsomethings (Fever Dreams?), a band that the only woman in my life Lauren has just started playing her enormous violin for (IT’S A CELLO). They were excellent, a very Fleet Foxes/ Animal Collective/ Bon Iver sort of a sound. The support acts were dire, though; one of them was convinced he was Peter Kay, which presumably is an unfortunate enough affliction for Peter himself without having all these cheeky-chappy clones running around the place. Eugh.

That is about everything of import for now, I think. Laters, kids & kittens.