Brick Lane

It started last Monday in HMV on Oxford Street when they tell me they no longer sell 7'' singles. I'm trying to get hold of the God Help The Girl record. It's the new project from Stuart Murdoch and I'm a huge fan of all things Belle & Sebastian, etc, etc, so I have to have the record. I get the central line to Rough Trade where they have plenty of 7'' singles. The guy behind the counter is surprisingly friendly. I'm finally ready to pledge my allegiance to the Independent record store. The friendly guy tells me Graham Coxon is playing instore at their east end branch. Ok, so I don't go but it sets me thinking.

Back at the office I check out the Rough Trade website to find Jarvis Cocker is playing on Saturday. So come Saturday, me and Tracy head east. At the store they are blasting out the Vaselines re-issue. The shop is surrounded by food stalls and people are hanging around sitting on the pavement. It feels like a mini-festival. We watch The Pains of Being Pure at Heart, buy our Jarvis albums and get our wristbands for the show later. We head off to explore our surroundings.

We walk Brick Lane's narrow street full of restaurants, clothes shops and markets. We spy apartments for sale, ring the bell and the guy shows us round these brand new all mod cons apartments, although we fail to convince him we are serious buyers. He asks if we'd like to see the price list and we hesitate a bit too long. The show flat looked great though. It would be great to come home to those modern appliances and the brand newness of it all. 

Back on Brick Lane there is a bar blasting out rave in the late afternoon. I feel too old - no too mature - for all that nonsense at this time of day. We get out of there. There's a bar in the back room of a restaurant on the corner by Rough Trade, where the DJ plays big band tunes from the twenties. Couples are performing swing dancing. 

We pop over the road to get our albums signed but change our minds when we see the queue. Instead we sit on a sofa, and there opposite us behind the counter is Jarvis, looking, well, like Jarvis with his v-neck sweater, long hair, beard and black rimmed glasses. I suppose it's not really a surprise seeing someone famous if you know they're going to be there.

After an intimate (a hundred people) and entertaining gig, showcasing most of his new harder sounding LP we head off back down Brick Lane weaving our way through the Waiters giving the hard sell for their restaurants.

The following day on the South Bank, underneath the Millennium Wheel I see Paul Weller striding along with his child. There he is with his grey mod cut, wearing rock star silver shades with a slight tint, adidas trainers and a cool designer green parka. He's talking on his mobile, his voice unmistakable. He strides confidently past and out of sight.