Spent much of last night trying to convince Yeah Yeah Yeahs they should go on stage and play the same song 10 times over, identical. Brian - dual haircut, Kramer lookalike he now is, flexing his wrist muscles - seemed game. Nick looked scared. Karen… well, she didn’t even notice, too busy flouncing. I was inspired (and drunk: on coffee, tiredness and whiskey) by the example of support band The Locust, mighty and inspirational, 25 seconds of song, 1/2 second of applause, 2 seconds of booing, 3 minutes of setting instruments for next cycle to begin. And they wore insect masks! Brilliant. Didn’t stick around for YYYs as I was scared I’d be dragged into some sort of shiny mini-skirted debauchery, and rather fancied cuddling up to my wife back in Brighton.

Jon Slade called at 11.20pm to tell me I was in the same building as him: I replied that I wasn’t, unless he was hiding behind the sofa. I want to cover two songs at our show on Sunday, two lines of each song only, the second improvised. Billy Childish and Black Flag. Guess I could just write some new songs. Hands all covered in paint now - the pink stripe is finished, and the annoying blue bookcase in the corner is now an annoying caramel cream bookcase in the corner, painted to the strains of Jimmy Pursey preaching in Sham 69. TELL US THE TROOF, Jim, indeed.

The other meetings in London varied from surreal (dancing about architecture) to depressing (finance, and arts council cartels, and the way money takes precedence over everything) to exploratory (Spektrum, and naked hippie children chained in NZ) to tired… The bulbs on the end of the spring onions have exploded into feral seed pods. And the Bridal Veil is coming up a rare treat.

In other news…no, I better not relate that.