I often confess to being a skeptic of sorts when in fact I'm somewhat of a fraudster in saying so. I'm not saying I think religion over science or swear blind on homeopathy or anything, but you amaze me in a derelict castle on a winter's night and I'll make to spend the night persuading myself it's not good of ghosts. That's if I hold it done the dark without running out screaming.On a less supernatural level, I have, especially in late years, come to believe in some form of karmic balance of things. For example, this morn I attempted to go for a run for the start sentence in 2 months, with my new shin splint combating new trainers. I lasted 10 minutes before my legs entirely seized up in worse pain than ever and I hobbled home. Couple this with the three flats I'd called that had been online for an hour and had already gone and losing my favourite hat last night and you would accept I was fair having a bad day. But in my odd head, I've decided that its all due to me having what I believe to be a pretty goddamn amazing day yesterday. 
Chuck D, on It Takes A State Of Millions iconic opening track 'Bring The Noise' enquires, after querying just how low a bass can indeed go, just what a brother knows. Well using my brother Corin as a character study, quite a lot. While both of us strayed away from my parents' careers of child protection and helping society, I went for comedy while my brother hit up the music scene. He's very proficient at the many things he does too, from DJing and producing to music PR and generally scamming freebies for good stuff. I credit myself on this, thanks to my days of tormenting him as a baby through physical and mental violence, I mean he has had to read to tackle various skills to survive. These skills are now being utilized in being far more useful than me at having the right connections to see we get a pretty awesome night of musical mayhem. Its been an amazing week of seeing bands I know this week, starting with Marina and the Diamonds on Tuesday, then Hot Chip and LCD Soundsystem on Weds. This all culminated with what I believe to be a giant of artist combinations, with managing last night to see old school buddy Sway, followed by the Gorillaz and finish with the muthafrikkin' Public Enemy. Yep. All that. Sway and PE I knew were on the cards but a chance moment of skillful juggling by Corin meant that as PE were running late, we raced across the O2 building and took our seats right near the present to watch Damon and crew belt out some of my favourite tunes from the preceding three albums. They were amazing live, with guests such as Bootie Brown, De La Soul, Mark E Smith (who kept wondering off, fiddling with switches on the amps and being coerced back by various band members) and Little Dragon (who I know a bit), and the most excellent visuals. There was a perma-grin on my side as they launched into Empire Ants, my favorite track off Plastic Beach. We had to drop their encore but headed into Indigo2 just as PE were starting and played the introduction to Add The Noise and it felt as though somebody had pretty much planned the evening about my personal music preferences. Chuck D looked like he hadn't aged a day, still ever sharp on the lyrics and messages of morality, berating people who act for image rather than being who they actually are, and anyone who follows in America's stupid footsteps. Flava Flav looked like he'd aged a century but threw himself about the point like some kind of hip hop imp. I don't imagine I will always get tired of earshot that man yell 'yeeeeeaaahhhh bwwwooooy'. Genius. I had a little bit of realising that in one evening I'd managed to see De La Soul, on fourth of the original Pharcyde and Public Opposition and felt more capacity than a contents page of a big volume with piles of chapters in it. Then I lost my hat. The day had decided I'd had far too much fun and my favourite green peaked beanie hat that had firmly been in my pocket all day long, was snatched from me by the law of sod. I checked with the bar and lost property, all of which had been handed various green peaked beanie hats, but none of them were mine. I give a deceivingly small point and thus need deceivingly small head wear. To substitute such an item may adopt some searching or a particular place to the Borrowers tailor. As some consolation, it appeared I'd been nodding my mind more than a plastic car dog and so needed no headgear whatsoever on going the premises. Still, I bloody liked that hat. I'm going to try my best not to mark off any more bands on my inclination of masses to see anytime soon or else I miss my new favourite zip-up, jacket or trainers. Let's hope Tom Waits, Portishead and Mogwai don't all do a joint concert together or I'll get to walk home naked. Or if they do, at least hope they do it in summer. I can't really complain. A lost hat isn't much to be sad about considering it was a really good day. According to Ice Cube's 'good day' criteria I didn't yet get to use my AK, so we can definitely say it was a full day. Myself and Corin have decided that at about detail we want to utter all elements of Ice Cube's track and have, by his definition, a well day. After much discussing, the hardest bit may easily be acquiring a 'Goodyear blimp' to say 'Ice Cube's a pimp'. But if we get saving now, I'm certain it can be done.