On the Road

If my study abroad session in London has turned me into the Recess foreign correspondent, then we're all in big trouble. This just in: I've been drunk ever since I got here. Needless to say, the musical responsibilities of even the most ambitious editor can fall by the wayside when faced with the prospects of a tall, tasty pint and a sweet English smile. Initially, I thought some of my newfound British friends could help me get a handle on the music scene, but then I realized that I don't have any newfound British friends. I turned to my roommate for guidance, but he doesn't speak much English and smells a lot like soup. No help there, although I now too, proudly exude an inexplicable lobster bisque aroma.

Dilemma. Find good music on my own. Luckily, since I still think the British pound looks too much like Monopoly money to be real, blowing a lot of it on concerts was not a difficult decision. Unfortunately, these Brits got the jump on me a long time ago. Sigur Ros, the Chili Peppers, Interpol, even John Mayer for Christ's sake - all sold out.

Ha! Blessing in disguise. I finally wised up. I was thinking Cat's Cradle; I was thinking Walnut Creek; I was thinking like a moron. I need to think English! What kind of musical pilgrimage would this be if I didn't find some hidden gems that haven't crossed the pond yet? Sure, I could see the Streets at Brixton, but what kind of chance would I be taking? From now on, I'm going to be at every local dive listening to every Liam Gallagher wannabe. I'm going to stop and appreciate that busker who sounds a lot like Michael Stipe playing for change in the subway (even though I'm pretty sure he stole my wallet last week). I'm going to be a better music fan...

...Right after I go see Steve-O from Jackass in his "Don't Try This at Home" show! Holy crap! He totally got arrested once for stapling his scrotum to his thigh. Man, I hope he does it again! America rules!