It's all fucking yellow?

When I first moved to London after I left University I didn't have much money and for while I lived with my brother J in his scuzy flat on Camden Rd. It used to be either the home to the Clash or the headquarters of the Clash's fan club because we got fan mail for them - of course we always opened it. "Good day, This is Hans. I live in Frankfurt in Germany. I much love Clash and British PUNK ROCK! I ask when Clash coming for Germany is please?" things like that.

While I was there a band moved in upstairs. We thought they were yet another grungy brit pop boy band that were two a dozen in Camden at the time. One day there was a knock on the door and there they were looking all shy and sheepish so we invited them in and made them some tea.

"We just came to apologise for the noise" said the leader - Chris I think his name was.
"What noise?"
"Err.. the noise we make when we practice"
"We didn't actually notice"
"Hmm.. "

This seemed to irritate them slightly. Anyway we chatted away for a while, well, Chris and us chatted way - the others just stood quietly and nervously in the corner sipping their tea, nibbling biscuits. Like everyone who came they got told about the Clash and also as J was in a band too the conversation turned to music.

"We hear you practise - you guys are great!" said Chris.
"Thanks" said J
"Not at fucking 11 on a Sunday morning they are not" I said
"Really original, great tunes, love the piano - that is such a good idea" said Chris
"Yeah it works well" said J.

Before they leave they gave us a demo CD, told us that they are playing at the barfly and we should come. "Thanks" we said. After they had left we listened to the demo - it was shit. They were just another grungy brit pop boy band that were two a dozen in Camden at the time without a piano or any good tunes. The cd got thrown in the pile and we don't go to the barfly.

A couple of years later I have moved out and I got a phone call - it is J

"You remember the grungy brit pop boy band that used to live up stairs?"
"What the fuckers that threw a bucket of water over me?"
"No the other one - the ones we had tea with, gave us a cd."
"Oh yeah I remember - nice boys."
"They were only the fucking pop sensation Coldplay!!!!!!"
"Fuck off!!"
"Seriously - I have that cd here it says 'Coldplay' on it"
"No way!"
"Yeah way!"
"Hmm actually that Chris did look a bit like what his name.. Chris Martin!! Fuck!"
"Yeah that is the one"
"But they were shit."
"Yeah I know I reckon their songs now sound a bit like mine with the piano and everything."
"You're right well the good ones do a bit anyway."
"Fucking bastards!!!"
"Well they don't sound that similar - maybe you just inspired them."
"Inspired them!!!! Fuck that! Where is my cheque?"

Anyway it has been a chip on J's shoulder ever since. So when a friend asks if I want to see Coldplay at Earl's Court what can I say? I might as well go and see how Chris and the boys are getting along - apparently they are doing alright for themselves these days. Maybe it is time I had little "chat" with Chris "Oi Chris you fuck - remember me? I am the brother of that bloke you stole all your songs off and that witty anecdote about the clash fan club you like telling journalists from Rolling Stone. Come here!"

But when I got to Earl Court last night I couldn't get close enough - it wasn't the bouncers that were the problem who were, on the whole, a foppish lot but the nasty looking lawyers he had around him. Big burley scary mother fuckers with TORT LAW tattooed across their bulging brief cases. I really didn't feel like fucking with them especially as my evidence was somewhat subjective.

So I mingled into the crowd. The place is huge. "I wonder how many people are here?" I say out loud to no one in particular looking around and around at the thousands apon thousands of people sitting on terrace after terrace up the walls. "17,500" a geeky gay couple I am standing next to say in unison. "It is the second biggest venue in London" they say and give each other nerdy and adoring looks. It summed up the crowd really - you know... nice people, unassuming - I felt like giving them all a cuddle. The sort of people who could stop a war or move a mountain by their sheer collective weight of polite kindness.

As for Coldplay - well it was Coldplay wasn't it. I am sure you have heard them. The valium of the London music scene - pleasant, warm, cosy if somewhat numbing and un-stimulating. Good though - didn't sound much better live than they would on a quality stereo but still. It was hard to remain angry at them - they are just so nice. Awww...

Chris did say "It is good to be back." which was sweet.
"Well it's very nice to have you back Chris, and how is Gwyneth?" the 17,000 of us said in unison.

So if it is up to them to fly the flag for London, English, British music then well so be it - you really couldn't ask for nicer bunch. Does the world really need another group philandering, reckless rock stars? - Not really. The nice men have come and they *are* taking no for an answer. Bless.