LAST NIGHT”S HIT N RUN:
Efterklang were extraordinary last night, radiating sunshine from
the mainstage at the Barbican on a cold bleak night. Now they fly to
Tokyo to perform & if you’re there please go see them, they’re a band
like no other I know. On the way home you caught me photographing
alleys in black & white, living on coffee & fancy filled bread rolls.
Winter trains smell strange & damp. The wet air holds onto the aromas of
the day & stacks them up for that final drawn out ride home. Last night
a fight broke out on the platform at an isolated station with no security
where cowards could jump two young boys without fear of looking dumb
or getting caught so it was all down the driver to have a conscience &
break it up. Forty minutes later someone got into his cab as we ground
to a halt on the rails between nowhere & anywhere but here. Conversation
dried up & men in black pulled hoods over their faces feigning sleep,
knuckles dug deep into armpits, pale lips drawn tight into cold slits.