Cosplay

The gospel according to The Hold Steady

Craig Finn took to the stage last night like the speaker at a school assembly. The crowd was small and well behaved, many smartly-dressed, few actually paying attention.

Chubby, bearded and sweating profusely, Finn's appearance reminded me of an old school teacher, whose assemblies were almost always about global tragedies and usually infused with a typical mix of guilt and religion that, on one occasion, made one boy vomit and all of us - always - feel terrible.

When Craig Finn sang however it was clear he bore the mantle of preacher, not teacher. His stories were of local tragedy, of New York City and Minneapolis, of heartbreak and drinking. They made us feel good. And while one or two of us may have been sick, we were drunk with more love than religion could muster.

In 2000, guitarist Tad Kubler, drummer Judd Counsell and bassist Galen Polivka joined Finn and started a rock and roll band. But last night, on stage, they were his disciples. And four hundred or so people in Birmingham heard the gospel according to The Hold Steady.

Playing mostly from their third album, Boys and Girls in America, Finn smiled and sang and swung his arms, grabbed us by our collars, and whispered in our ears, the secrets of his friends, the stories of his youth.

And when he was done - sweating more so, drunk and tearful - he thanked us, he thanked the band, he said we were one and the same. "You are The Hold Steady," he said. And never before have I felt a deep sense of belonging to a room full of strangers. He walked into the crowd and to open arms and embraces, still singing, "I've had kisses that make Judas seem sincere."

And, just as soon as we planted one on his cheek, he turned the other and it was all over - ears ringing, amps buzzing and lights up on a room full of friends.

• The Hold Steady

Le Moonwalker

Ooh la la! Check out my photos from Paris on the link below.

• Paris is for Lovers [via my Flickr photo stream]

Agnostic for chemistry

"I've decided I'm agnostic," Pete said. "Not atheist."
"What's the difference?"
"It means that the only thing I can be sure of is that there may or may not be a God. But that I can't prove it, so won't worry about it."
"That's exactly how I feel about chemistry."

"1 adult, 1 child, please."

There is something of an image problem with the new Kate Winslet's film, I realised last night, when the attractive, box-office clerk asked me what I'd like to watch.
"Little Children," I replied.

• Little Children (2006) [via IMDb]

My poor, unsuspecting Valentine.

I convinced myself that this year's lack of Valentine's Day cards was due to my recent change of address. Not that in previous years I've had much trouble wading through the post.

I'm usually the one sending them out - channelling the creative powers of an entire cottage industry, crafting a card with a year's worth of consideration, and carelessly spending a crazy amount of money on a gift as romantic as it is wrong.

An ex-girlfriend suffered the brunt of my love some years ago, when one such romantic gesture marked the beginning of the end for our relationship.

Not content buying roses, chocolates or - rather surprisingly - slutty underwear, I got wood. And not in the way you might expect on Valentine's Day. I actually bought two trees in "Lover's Wood", Scotland - planted to "symbolise our love", not intended to scare the crap out of my Valentine. Needless to say, it was the last we spent together.

And so this year I thought I would spare womankind my kindness - less through choice, I suppose, than circumstance - and enjoy a vomit-less Valentine's without the crafts, the cards, the crazy gifts.

There could be no less romantic excursion on Valentine's weekend, I thought, than a city break with my mum and my sister. Unless of course the city is Paris.

And that's where I found myself last weekend. In the exquisite opera district, and a hotel room that sleeps three, where the question, "voulez vous couchez avec moi?" decides who gets the single bed and who shares the double.

It was the Valentine's I'd wished for - unromantic, though no less wrong; spent with two women, albeit members of my immediate family; and cheaper - I don't doubt - than two trees in Lover's Wood or whatever gratuitous gift I would have given my poor, unsuspecting Valentine.

Movin' Out.

I'm leaving this place in the morning.

• My videos