Oh it’s Camden Crawl time! Or do I mean #camdencrawl time. “W00t,” they tweet. And it’s joyous: the sun is out, the streets are amoc with fearless hedonists on their way to funtimes and well, you know how it is, the tantric joy of the festival with the added bonus of a bed at the end of it all.
Oh no, you don’t. That’s why you’re reading this. So it’s noon or thereabouts, and The First Pint has found its way into our light-emitting palm (and throat). Smooth. Pint two handily lives about two metres away, Eddie Argos (in a resplendent two-piece) away from us. Shame we’re on the bloody phone and unable to stop, get down on one knee and refuse to leave until he marries us, really.
We saunter up to The Good Mixer for a bit of background DJing, and then to The Spread Eagle to catch the tail-end of Hollyoaks’ soundtrack-botherers Broadcast 2000’s set, which is sunny and lovely, as it goes. Who knew that this tiny living room-space would go on to become the temporary home for one Mr Coxon the day after? … Continue Reading
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