Things Aren't Going to Change

I'm supposed to be doing work. Supposed to.

It's our last week of classes, and yet all I want to do is go out until 4 AM, see Buckingham Palace and then do it all over again. But no. I'm stuck inside a computer lab, avoiding transcribing interviews when London is right outside my window. But then again, that is the reason I'm here.

I've become addicted to NME. Before you right me off completely and get on your high anti-hipster hating hipster horse (that makes no sense), let's talk about it.
Me = addict.
NME=weekly music guide of bands I actually like.
Writing = not so good.
US=doesn't have it.

Yes, there is Rolling Stone where the writing is quite superior but I get bored reading it. Every week, less and less seems to be devoted to music. I want to hear about Pete Doherty's latest binge and how Maximo Park has become Britain's new favourite band. But sadly, the first thing I read is the Letter From New York.

It's pathetic, I know. I'm in this fantastic city, I'm traveling around Europe and all I can think about is all the shows I'm missing back home. It was almost a tease, turning 21 weeks before leaving. I haven't been able to walk proudly up to the scary bouncers at Bowery or Mercury yet, or not hesitate before showing my ID at Pianos. And there seems to be all these great shows I'm missing. Shush. There was a point to all this.

This week's Letter From New York called Antony Ellis of The Five O'Clock Heroes NME's new favourite rock star. Damn, those boys are gonna be huge. Give it a couple months. (Or until the next issue wink, wink). But once NME says it, it's, like, the truth, right? Please note the sarcasm, but I sure am gonna miss picking up my copy every Wednesday for half the price that it will be in Virgin when I get back. Ah addictions. What can you do?

Get to work.