retiredmartin

September 2023. Hoxton.

You left me in the queue to see Alix Page at Colours (aka Lux) in Hoxton, ANOTHER new east London gig venue for me.

I’d unwisely joined a queue at 7pm, as the ticket (a tenner) said doors at 7, and I wanted to discover the rich joys of the Colours beer list.

Tap water and Guinness, you said.

But doors at 7 means “we’ll think about letting you in, slowly, in about 45 minutes after it starts to rain“,

so I get to spend 45 minutes in a queue with 150 late teenage girls, two compliant boyfriends and lone accompanying dad.

This is both slightly uncomfortable, and thrilling in terms of blog material. Behind me, domineering 19 year old Millie talks Boy Genius (well played, Lucy Dacus), “making out” and complex University relationships.

“They seem very passionate, they’re Italian“. Yep.

The queue shuffles along, I suddenly worry I don’t have a paper ticket like the ones the teenage girls are clutching, the security guard waves me through anyway,

and I’m suddenly in a secondary queue for the actual music room listening to Iron & Wine (I’ll draw you a diagram if you wish).

There’s a merch stand, and a bar.

NO-ONE (zero) is queueing for the bar. “Quiet night for you tonight” I tell the staff.

I start with a can of Days Alcohol free lager, immediately realise my mistake inside the music room and ask the (incredibly cheery) barperson to root around in the fridge for a beer. She comes up with this;

Which isn’t bad, as such.

I stand by the back door, leaving the teenage audience to go a bit mad for 20 year Jake Minch’s intelligent acoustic songs about handguns and unwanted pregancies. He looks as terrified as I do.

Back in Waterbeach, Mrs RM is enjoying herself, it seems.

I suddenly think I deserve a proper drink as well, and head back to the main bar for a pint (in pint glass) of Jubel Peach. It’s peachy.

In the interval I finally chat to a mysterious tattooed man drinking Kopparberg. I’m glad I did. He’s Sebastian, a lovely Argentinian guy who’s brought his teenage daughter down on the train from Altrincham. We talk modern music and Messi and Man City and Manchester.

There’s SO much great music being made by young women at the moment. As Willie Dixon sang, and the Knack plagiarised  “the men don’t know, but the little girls understand“.

And then Alix comes on and the cameras come out.

She could really have done with a band, but a 21 year American playing £10 gigs to 200 people can only afford to bring her guitar with her, for now. Still, “25” still hits.

In my mind I’ll always be “25”.