London Conversation

Simultaneously inspiring and exhausting, it was well worth braving the gale force winds (actually, London didn't fare too badly, though the rail shutdown at 11pm meant we made it home by the skin of our teeth) to attend Day 2 of The Rest Is Noise at the Southbank Centre. A little like convention day at Beatleweek, there was barely time to eat or catch our breath, as competing allegiances made planning our day a difficult task (a 'good' downside, if there was one, to a very packed schedule).

For a change, our usual tendencies were set aside, and a conversation with Gail Zappa in the QEH won out over a Beatles-centric panel discussion on the 6th floor. A strident and formidable presence, we learned much about Gail's London-based past pre-Frank, how she came to arrive in LA via New York and her battles with sycophant fans of her late husband. The closing Q&A prompted Gail to recommend Hot Rats as a primer for Zappa pre-schoolers. We took note.

Over in the cosier Purcell Room, the lights were so dim it was hard to concentrate during a very insightful (and personal - he doesn't have a high opinion of Dylan; he doesn't understand Americans who can't adjust to British cultural mores; he's not a fan of Pro-tools...) overview of the '60s by Joe Boyd. For once we wished we'd sat at the back, as our eyelids threatened an embarrassing involuntary strike right in front of the man himself. Out in the foyer, a lengthy queue formed for purchasers of White Bicycles to have their books signed. I hadn't brought along my copy, but was delighted to perform photography duties for my friend. Longtime admirers of Boyd, and largely attracted to the event by his participation, we were relieved to find him as down-to-earth and approachable as we'd hoped.

Interviewer Jude Kelly may have been guilty of over-intellectualising during her interview with Brian Patten and Roger McGough, Patten in particular giving many of her well-meaning observations about motivation short-shrift. No denying the poetry itself, however, with both giving compelling readings which not even the intermittent cries of a babe in arms could spoil. Despite the faint whiff of 'Waitrose', I could listen McGough's singular delivery for hours.

Save for her erstwhile connections with John and Yoko, I knew very little about radical activist Angela Davis, another powerful speaker, in the QEH. However, coming at the end of a very long day, and even for two former Sociology students, this felt like hard work at times. The customary audience questions, although enthusiastic and celebratory in approach, were often baffling and rambling in content. Clearly a heroic figure to many, we nevertheless left wanting to know more.

Oblivious to the train chaos that loomed, it was probably a mistake to detour through the Royal Festival Hall Clore Ballroom, where a healthy crowd had settled in to watch a large-screen projection of Yellow Submarine. In need of some light relief, and with a glass of white in hand, it seeemed premature to leave. During the next hour and half we both agreed that our love for this magical film remains undimmed.

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