The first, and last, time I saw Brand New was a haze.
A beautiful haze, but dream like. Possibly something to do with coming into consciousness in London; with the only memory prior to the blackness before that being a house party the previous night, at my own student house in Cardiff.
After arrival in London’s night, having worked out where I was, who I was, who I was with and why we were here. It soon became clear that it would require a substantial amount of substances to counteract the after effects of the previous nights concoction for me to appear to seem fit to be allowed in to an upstanding venue like Wembley Arena.
I’d already been warned if I couldn’t get in, there would be no sympathy, I’d be on my own until the gig was over. This was fair enough.
Suffice to...
A beautiful haze, but dream like. Possibly something to do with coming into consciousness in London; with the only memory prior to the blackness before that being a house party the previous night, at my own student house in Cardiff.
After arrival in London’s night, having worked out where I was, who I was, who I was with and why we were here. It soon became clear that it would require a substantial amount of substances to counteract the after effects of the previous nights concoction for me to appear to seem fit to be allowed in to an upstanding venue like Wembley Arena.
I’d already been warned if I couldn’t get in, there would be no sympathy, I’d be on my own until the gig was over. This was fair enough.
Suffice to...
- 2/20/2012
- by Morgan Roberts
- Obsessed with Film
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