Mix

During the afternoon, Barry, Ade and Christian Kemp, a bassist who Mo knows, had a jam together in the common room of Toynbee Hall. It sounded very muddy, not as ‘clean’ a sound as on the tapes Barry had brought down at the start of term. Barry was fairly disappointed with the results and thought that Christian’s bass-playing was crap.

In the evening Pete and Mo and I left for Shelley’s flat on Prince’s Way and she cooked us a meal, a mash of potato and chicken with onion sauce, rice and peas.

We were ushered in by Shelley's effusive flat-mate David and found her slaving away in the kitchen; her other flat-mate Jack was squatting in a chair, bearded, silent, and more intense than the blustering friendliness and chat of David. Jonathan, the fourth member of the household was away. Their house has a pretty impressive sitting room and thru bedroom, but the upstairs is comparable in size and condition to ours; they’re paying £25 per week. David left to buy some booze, Lindsey and Susie turned up, David returned, and we ate.

Afterwards we all caught either the bus or taxi up to the University for the much-publicized “Club Mix” in Blair Peach Hall (where Hendrix once played, according to popular legend). I forked out my £1 to get in and the very first person I saw was Del; since they left Watermouth, he and John Turney have spent time in Bristol, Newport and Reading, and returned to find a house, which they’ve done apparently.

John was already chatting up some blonde girl. Barry and Guy were there too. We had another good night out getting pissed and dancing along with a few hundred others. I felt rotten afterwards and so I made myself throw up by sticking my fingers down my throat. We got back and pissed about with fireworks before going to bed.