Thursday, 22 July 2010

Catacombs and the Coach Journey

Cass McCombs, can he do no wrong? He has that seductive 'I can mix unusual chords with super sad words' effect. 'You Saved My Life,' is a totally haunting have-to-listen-to-over-and-over-again type of song and I thought the true highlight of the album was 'One Way To Go,' a real toe tapping tune...
Why is she reviewing this album? I hear you ask. His heartfelt lyrics and swinging melodies have been doing the rounds since 2009 kid! Well, an album like this firmly belongs on a summer playlist and on ANY coach journey, I'm just forewarning you in case such needs should arise whilst using public transport, particularly if it's anything like the London Birmingham journey I endured recently.

Not naming names...

One could argue that I brought this situation on myself, when making my way onto the tube platform on the hottest day of the year, any kind of oxygen seemed to dissipate leaving instead the stench of unnecessary delays and tourists armpits. Deciding that fresh air was good for my young lungs (and it might be nice to wave to Queen Lizzy as I passed the palace) I  insisted on walking to Victoria coach station.
I caught her at an off moment, she wasn't expecting me

 Admittedly I didn't know the way, but hey I had half an hour, there was no way I was going to be late. Famous last thoughts as I ran through the coach station. Hurrah! I saw my coach waiting for me like a giant hug to take me home, until I boarded those fateful steps. Through the matted throng of unhappy looking people wafting make shift fans and swearing at eachother in different languages I spied one seat left. One sad lonely seat at the back of the coach, wedged between a 25 stone man and the toilet that had a broken door, meaning that around every corner it would swing open bouncing against my legs and waking me up from my 100 degree slumber.

The nice fat man told the world 'it stinks of piss in here' every five minutes

Not only was I swimming in someone elses sweat and drowning in the scent of urines-gone-by, the air con didn't work... and there was a heater under my seat, meaning that if I didn't die from the coach that broke down 5 times on the motorway, heat exhaustion would do it. What do you do in such a predicament? I advise, should you find yourself in such a state, to take 'Catacombs' by the lovely Cass McCombs and drown yourself in that instead. Needless to say, I made it home in one piece, I had neither melted from the heat, nor been squashed by my rather large companion, I was not beaten by the swinging poo stained door, or killed in a horrific traffic accident. Does this mean that Cass McCombs saved my life? Does this mean that whoever saved his life, in the track 'You Saved My Life' saved me too? Should I send them a letter to thank them?

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