Location: Cafephillia, Moseley.
I’ve always thought of Moseley as Birmingham’s Soho. A proper quirky kind of place. Everything is so chilled and no-one ever seems to be in a hurry. It’s full of such an eclectic mix of people; mature intellectuals, bohemians and easy-going people who have such a laid-back approach to life.
Easily caught up in the humdrum of everyday life, I’ve decided Saturday’s are for scribbling. Sat in Cafephillia, an eccentric cafe nestled on the corner of Moseley’s high street, surrounded by beards, lush coffee and an epic playlist – I’m in my absolute element.
After paying for a Netflix Subscription for 6 months – which I used about three times in total – I realised that TV series and films aren’t for me. Quite frankly, I haven’t got the attention span for either. Spotify is my type of thing. It’s quite sad really, but I can sit on Spotify for hours, listening to unsigned and undiscovered bands – some better than others, of course.
When I was at University, I always used to buy gig tickets off the cuff and drag my best friend along to them. Not like she was complaining – she’s proper into her music too. Since I’ve moved home, I haven’t been to half as many gigs and that’s something I want to change. In true fashion, I booked two tickets to see Lisbon – a small, indie band from Newcastle – at the Oobleck.
Ok, apart from the awful accent, unheard of football team and Doctors, the worst show ever aired on television – Birmingham isn’t that dreadful. In fact, it’s full of unusual, alternative restaurants and music venues.
The Mockingbird Theatre, situated in The Custard Factory, has some of the best food I’ve ever tasted. It sells decent food – the type that you don’t need a magnifying glass to see what you’re eating. Proper indie, it’s kitted out with beer keg chairs, old-cinema style decor and pukka cider on draft.
The Oobleck, which latches onto Alfie Bird’s pub, is up there with the coolest music venues I’ve been to – the entrance door was a real bookcase for starters! The only bug-bearer was the price of cider – £5 a bottle.
Surrounded by bunches of 16 year olds, moshing to Bombay Bicycle Club’s album which was played on repeat, I felt like I was back in my teenage years. Except this time, I could stand with a cold cider in my hand. Brother’s cloudy lemon, to be precise. I certainly wasn’t complaining. Packed out with only about 30 people, it was an intimate gig and there was a real atmosphere. It was a nice change. Echoed through the abysmal support act, The Amazons, whose sound levelling was all over the place, these tiny venues are ideal for bands to practise, make mistakes and build up a fan base.
Disappointed by the support act, Lisbon pulled it out the bag. The three young lads from Newcastle, I’d say about my age, lit the stage up and had the floor shaking. Too small for a stage invasion, Matt Varty, the lead singer of the band took himself off the stage and into the crowd. As you can imagine, the teenage girls went crazy and one even offered him her spare cardigan. I can’t say I’ve ever been that prepared.
Unlike large, commercial gigs that I’ve been to, it was nice to interact and have a laugh with the lads afterwards. Guitarist, Joe Atkinson, was up for a chin-wag and signed the EP that we bought for our car. Joe had a wicked sense of humour and creased when I questioned the price of the CD. Let’s just say, The CD was £4 and the ticket was £5.
It was a fiver well spent, that’s for sure.
The Mad Grad.