Anyone fancy a big night out

2AM Eternal
I had profitable day off on a recent Friday, got lots of my weekend jobs done etc and also got first dibs at the records down the market. I was little perturbed by a kindly older black guy who seemed to think crate diving was collaborative affair and that if “I saw anything good to pass it over” clearly he’s a new comer. There are strict rules to this sort of thing sharing booty being not one of them. In his defence I think he thought I wouldn’t be interested in Frank Sinatra etc. Fortunately he left some gems for me.

One of my haul inspired this idea it’s by Ray Martin, that’s him looking fab in the picture. His record is called Piccadilly 2am it’s from the late 50’s and is redolent of a time I’m not sure ever really existed. Take a look at the sleeve notes when you see Piccadilly now with its burger kings and sports super stores you have wonder where all these clubs were. London is still not great for grown up late night entertainment, we recently ended up in a faux Irish place that’s were the wag club used to be. All we wanted was a late drink. It wasn’t too bad but it was too loud and amusing as the American exchange students who filled the place were it would be good to have a bit wider choice.

Anyway the LPs fell into a nice little sequence some classic Motown to get titivated and check you seams to.

Followed by a cocktail. Most of the Gugi's LP is high class kitsch the sort that needs a strong drink and raised eyebrow to truly enjoy but these tracks stand muster even when you are on nothings stronger than tea.

After some fancy liquor it’s time for tonight’s turn, ladies gentlemen make way for Mr Tom Jones and his tale of his time working for Lecky board in Ebbw Vale. After TJ does his stuff it’s off for that night cap and some light music.

Light music I suppose is the ambient of its day, I do wish for a hint of grit or bite in the tunes but it would be churlish to dismiss it out of hand. All you need now is to see a friendly yellow light coming down Regent St and soon that diesel chug will be carrying you back to the arms of Morpheus with a little powder on your collar and some ticket stubs in your coats pocket. That’s unless your Toby(PEP UCL) from Illinois who will still be blagging fags and spouting his stream of joyful Bs arm wrapped around the some giggling wordless sophomore. If there’s time for one last snifter mines a large Macallan with one lump of ice.

Gugi’s Party Xavier Gugat

Sinapore sling Xavier Gugat

Tom Jones Wichita Lineman


Ray Martin Piccadilly 2am.