Ugly Beautiful

I’ve been staying in Reading for a while. Anyone who knows Reading will probably sympathise. It’s not a pretty place. And some of it’s inhabitants’ habits are none too pretty either.

Walking through its town centre at night means running the gauntlet of screaming drunks and people either wandering about talking to themselves or threatening to talk to you.

But there is a quite beautiful church tower and wonderful old, gnarled trees in the centre that seem oblivious to the mayhem around them. And their presence changes almost everything.

After recently finding myself able to listen to the National Anthem (see previous post) and now this experience in Reading, am I discovering the fact that beauty can be found even in the ugliest places?

Royal Progress

Playing gigs across the UK tends to mean driving back through the night late. The more gigs we play, the more of a ritual it becomes. And the radio tends to be one's only companion on the road.

Whenever the National Anthem used to come on at 1am, I always used to switch it off. It was the last thing I wanted to hear, then — or at any other time. (Anthems don't really do it for me, unless it's Hendrix playing The Star Spangled Banner.)

But then a strange thing happened. I found myself leaving it on and allowing it to become part of that nocturnal post-gig ritual.

For the past two nights, after really wonderful gigs, I've let "God Save The Queen" mark another minor musical success. I've found something positive in it — rather than something negative.

And that's a pretty amazing turnaround.

Mind you, I still prefer the Sex Pistols...