First off, a word of warning, don't get too close to the screen, you might catch my Dreaded Lurgey. Dunno where I've picked it up from 'cos I've not been near any sick people, but Sunday night I started to have a bit of a scratchy throat and on Monday woke up feeling like crap.
This was not good, not good at all. You see, TLH and I are shameless homebodies, which means (rather obviously) we don't go out very much. However, several months ago I bought tickets for us to go and see the Klaxons play at the HMV Forum, Kentish Town on Tuesday (yesterday).
I lurve the esoteric, psychonautical Klaxons - anyone who can combine lyrics about the Golden Dawn and science fiction space travel with fiendishly poppy and dancey tunes that get into your head and keep you awake at night is onto a winner with me. Their latest album cover features a space-cat:
Here, have a video:
Anyway, there was no way on earth I was going to miss this, so TLH took me and my sinus infection up to London yesterday afternoon. We decided to eat first in Chinatown and then head off to Kentish Town. Got to Waterloo then hopped onto the underground with a view to getting out at Piccadilly and walking to Chinatown.
As we stopped at Piccadilly, we both spotted a chap getting off the train along with everyone else, and heading towards the exit. We both stared at him, then at each other. TLH said I had the biggest grin he'd ever seen. We followed the passenger onto the platform and then up the stairs. I was watching the reactions of commuters who passed him in the opposite direction. Some just flicked their eyes sideways at him as he passed but showed no other reaction. Others openly gawped, some young girls sniggered. One young chap did a proper, cinematic double-take and muttered 'what the fuck?' as he drew level with us.
What was causing this reaction? Why was I just so delighted that we had spotted him? What was it about this middle-aged white male who dressed like a geography teacher in cords and tweed jacket and who carried a briefcase?
He was wearing a brass wire pyramid on his head. As you do.
TLH decided we needed to follow him around the station for a bit, just to see what happened. Mr Pyramid Hat didn't do anything unusual, he went to an ATM and then left. And you'll be pleased to discover that we finally came to our senses to take some photos on our phones just so I could show you all. The quality's not great but I hope you can make it out (click to embiggen):
It's a bold statement, I think you'll agree. The genius of the look is that he appears perfectly ordinary (depending, of course, on your definition of 'ordinary') in every way. Except for the pyramid on his head. I was completely in awe and thrilled beyond measure. I wanted to ask him what it was all about (although I did suspect it was probably a load of New Age 'healing' bollocks) and how he coped with peoples' reactions but we were running late and, anyway, I'm a bit of a coward and don't tend to talk to strangers, no matter how fascinating they might appear.
After we got home, I googled something like 'London man with pyramid on his head' and found a couple of references (some dating back 3 years or so, so he's obviously been committed to sporting this elegant headwear for a few years now) and a youtube video!
PS. The gig was fantastic, one of the best I've been to for years. Amazing lightshow and the audience was incredibly enthusiastic and bouncy. We're off to see 'post-punk doom mongerers' Interpol at Brixton Academy in early December, which should be different - our favourite song by them is purportedly to be about Rose West (as in Fred and .....). Eclectic tastes R Us!
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