I’m up late tonight, scribbling down some notes for the novel, and I’ve got some Headswim playing in the background.
Headswim you say? One of the best bands you’ve never hear of.
Pardon me for getting all introspective here.
I first saw Headswim at the Cathouse in Glasgow, when the Cathouse was at it’s previous location. If it remember correctly, and I probably don’t, they were on a three band bill with Tool headlining and, for reasons I can’t remember either, they couldn’t play that night.
It ended up that there was barely a dozen folk there that night to see the other two bands. My friends and I stuck it out and, after the gig when everyone decanted to the open club downstairs, we hung out with Headswim. They were really great guys, and it was a great night.
I’m not sure if this is the “Lockdown” talking but I miss things, like going to a gig and hanging with the band after. Getting drunk with pals and acting like a bit of an idiot. I understand that being a husband and father means that I have to adopt a responsible attitude but it’s not like Ruth doesn’t champion any social thing I get around to doing.
And something odd seems to be happening to my social anxiety at the moment. I’ll ponder and update you later. Thanks for listening, internet.