Musical Candy – The Camden Monarch
I had flown across two continents for it, just to be a part of this night…
England. London. Camden. The Monarch. Metalworks.
It would be old bag of tricks in a new shirt.
*In retrospect, I can say for sure from the evening that my lifestyle does not permit me to own a white shirt.
I met Mike just after 18:00 and we went to a small establishment called Spiritual Bar to drink beer and catch up. Justin showed up an hour later and Carlos rolled in 15 minutes after that. Crew assembled!
Off to the Camden Monarch – My rock and roll Vatican.
It was so wonderful to be in that bar on a Sunday night. A bank holiday Monday however, means the time-honoured criteria shifts into overdrive.
You know that feeling when you search for something in your closet, have to dig deep to the bottom of it, and then you find an old pair of shoes that have been there for a long while? You ponder who you were then and try those shoes on to see if they still fit. And of course they do because you have not been 17 for a lot of years and you have by now established what you are with the only your beer belly, ego and personal knowledge still growing. The Camden Monarch is that old pair of shoes, but sub ‘shoes’ for ‘bar-with-incredible-band-on-stage-planting-roots-of-metal-into-your-soul’ and you have made the connection.
Amazing friends. Guinness. Slightly left, front of the stage. Head banging. Hair throwing. Metalworks…
Wow. The pleasure and bliss I feel when I am in the venue with my pals is probably akin to what a three year old feels when supplied with a lollipop.
Rocking out. Sweating. Screaming lyrics. Music forcing you to become a physical vessel as it enters your ears and exits through your body using it as converter from audio to visual effect.
Breaking the Law. Hell Ain’t a Bad Place to Be. Jailbreak. Run to the Hills.
Clothing wet from sweat and beer. Meet a beauty. Fall in love. Lose her because you are having way too much fun with your friends and your attention span is everywhere.
Metalworks always ends about two hours earlier than I wish it would. Some day if I get tricked into marriage, I hope to have them play all night at my wedding, assuming the stage around 01:00.
Sunday version of the Camden Monarch…
Wow it was nice to experience that again!
Make goodbyes to Monarch regulars. Wish you were one of them. Walk with your friends to the Elephant’s Head. Bank holiday jam-packed. A 15 minutes wait? Na. Tip the bouncer £10. Four entrance stamps. Beer. It is too busy. Hippodome Casino. Hazy recollection of transportation to get there. Act as sober as possible to fool security into letting you in. Belly up to the bar. Beer. Food. Knock over someone’s entire drink. Tell your buddies in alcohol infusion how much you miss them. No memoirs of transportation home but suspicions linger that the sun was peeking down at your behavior by that time.
All of that at a cost: A double-red-eye uncomfortable airplane-seat-sleep on back-to-back consecutive nights from the very bottom of Africa and across the entirety of Europe to arrive on this British island…
London. Camden. The Monarch. Metalworks…
Wow that was worth it!
I can not overstate how much I love being here!…