Well Christmas began for us yesterday. My dad and step-mum dropped in for brunch on their way back home to Devon. Presents were exchanged (but not opened!) and then last night we sat down and wrote out all our Christmas cards. In fact I went to bed feeling a bit icky, thanks to licking all that lovely gum on the back of the envelopes. Thank goodness that we don't have to lick the stamps any more, I just love those peel off sticky backed stamps that emerged a couple of years ago.

We had a really nice evening on Saturday, went to The Cube to see some interesting bands and strange films. First up were a 3 piece from London called Florida, I wonder if there is a band in Florida called London? They reminded me a bit of the Magnetic Fields, sparse electronic arrangements and vocal's split 50-50 between male and female singers. On occasions it was pretty difficult watching the band, as behind them a very bizarre Mexican film was keeping us amused, appalled, shocked and guffawing with laughter in equal measures. We saw all sorts, as a Christ like figure wondered through a chaotic landscape dealing with an army of toads dressed in strange costumes (later to be blown up!), and old man removing his false eye (prompting huge squeals from the audience) and lots of ritualistic icon smashing and eating. At times the band themselves were distracted by the film and when everyone trooped off to the bar, it has to be said the conversation was more about the cinematic exploits than the musical ones. Next up were the laconic, John E. Vistic , they played using some Clint Eastwood spaghetti western as a backdrop. Very appt for their country tinged swamp blues. By this stage of the evening the rather potent Polish Vodka (in my case) and Polish lager (in Jane's case) resulted in us giggling at the supreme performance of posing and non stop fag rolling by one of bands guitarists. A very jolly fellow, who managed to get through most of the performance, without playing a note! After another break Munter took the stage to a backdrop of wild tango dancing and strange Japanese snake women! They appeared to be beset by on stage problems, most of which we were oblivious to. However the feeling of increasing gloom which radiated from the band hindered rather than helped the enjoyment of the fragile melodies which make this band stand out from many of their local contemporaries. The other problem that Munter have is that they are a very quiet band, unless people come to see them in particular, the general level of chat at a gig can seriously impede the enjoyment of fans (and maybe the band as well). They need someone to tell the rest of the country how good they are, maybe then people will actually come and listen to band, rather than using it as chance to pay to go and have a conversation. By the time Munter had finished, the curfew time for live music had been exceeded, Florida had been supposed to come back on and play another set, so after an impassioned rant from the band they managed to get enough gear plugged in to enable them to play one more song, before we all drifted back into the bar to appreciate the excellent music (Nick Cave, The Smiths etc) being played by the splendid Grumpy Men DJ collective. Orynthia, Steve and I walked home in a very jolly frame of mind.