Friday, 3 June 2011

Trust issues...

In the first week that I lived in the Manor Avenue squat, my new housemates asked me if it was ok if a band came round to shoot their music video. Is it ok? This kinda shit never happened when I was paying rent.

So they came round, and shot their music video. I actually had plans that day, and missed the shooting (it's possible that part of my psyche made these plans intentionally, so that I wouldn't be hanging around with my tongue lolling out, trying to steal drum sticks and locks of hair). When I did return, the band were all gone, but the crew seemed nice and the director 'paid' us with two cases of redstripe and a bag a doggie biscuits for the doggies. Although they'd saved well over a grand by filming in our place and not in a studio somewhere, we hadn't asked for anything, so this was a nice touch, I thought.

This is what they made, in our house:

I'd almost completely forgotten about the whole affair, and had never even looked up the video, until I stumbled on their name in the line up of a festival I'm going to later this summer. Oh yeeeeah, that's that band that came round my house and nicked my birthday paint tin.

See, the crew used my room as a sort of impromptu production office. At the time I had just three things in that room: a mattress, a bag of clothes and a silver paint tin with the words 'Tolerance - 5kg' written on the side, which I got from the design museum in Copenhagen on my 21st birthday. When they left, they left only the mattress and the clothes bag.

It was like being hit in the nose: it hurt, but not as much as it was a massive disorientating shock to the senses. What sort of a rat bastard steals from a squat? From the home of someone who's doing them a favour?

The lesson here is clear: as with vampires, do not invite media types into your home. If you absolutely must, follow them round like a supermarket security guard on the scent of someone scruffy. If you're married to a media type, look up a lawyer. If you have even the slightest inkling that your offspring may turn out to be a media type, don't hold their hand too tightly in the supermarket.

Better still, and if you can locate it, go out and drive a stake through the heart of the first media type you find - before they even have a chance to be invited into your home to peck at your soul...

1 comment:

  1. Damn, I had my eye on your Thundercats figurine, but I'll never get it now!