I've been to London a number of times for gigs on a Sunday before - but I'd forgotten how damn upleasant it is to be stuck on a very slow moving train with my fellow man as we crawl down, then to sit around at Euston at the end of the night waiting for the privilidge of being stuck on a very slow moving train back again complete with pissed tw*ts and loud Americans. Pah!
Up until Friday I was convinced I'd be doing a "billy-no-mates" at the gig, but fortunately
Laibach weren't quite as odd as I expected them to be - but the set was pretty damn good - however any gig needs to go a long way to be as good as EN at the Astoria a couple of years ago. The Scala was an ok venue, though it didn't strike me as huge, and the bouncer was very friendly when he confiscated my bottle of water.
No support, gig kicked out at 10:30, then a quick jog back to Euston (much faster than this underground thingumy), snuck into the First Class lounge, stole some biscuits and saved paying 20p to use the loo; gave the biscuits to a tramp when he asked me for money for a coffee and dozed as much as possible on the way back.
Finally I was home about 2:15, and slept until 10:15. I did dream that