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It’s been such a long, long time… The last original material we heard from Bob was 2012’s Tempest. The next eight years were a long stretch of covers from the Great American Songbook, first Shadows in the Night, then Fallen Angels, culminating in the three-album Tin Pan Alley extravaganza Triplicate. Even the most sycophantic Bob … Continued

One of the staunchest people in lockdown has without doubt been Pete Fowler, not least for his 9 (!) Social Friday night drinks sessions, each with its own sublime soundtrack. Here Pete joins us for our ‘Glastonbury Week’ with some memories of his life in The Park, up on the hill . . and beyond. … Continued

July 1968.  London Garden Our first stop in London was in Islington where Robert’s one-time tutor and now friend Anthony Benjamin had a large home and studio. We parked the wagon on the side of the street, walked Betsy the horse through to the back garden and let her loose on the grass.  Anthony and … Continued

It shouldn’t come as a surprise when certain things end up knocking you back on your heels during lockdown. I’m talking about those tiny reminders of our past lives, those things that cause you to pause, reflect, then curse a little. Glastonbury week was always going to be one of them. In any normal year, … Continued

On 14th of March, we threw what was planned to be the last party in the bar we have next to our record shop for a very old friends 50th. Some people didn’t come as they were scared of this virus, others were refusing to shake hands, instead touching elbows and doing a kind of … Continued

VII Mid-June and the weather has given in. Finally, rain. Storms have begun to appear as if from nowhere in the afternoons, rolling in over the hills, dragging their dark nimbus over the plantation conifers and squatting over the village for a few hours until the evening. The parties on the cricket pitch have dissipated, … Continued

Why the UK is failing the music industry. This Saturday is the first Love Record Stores day. We’ll be marking the 24 hour online festival on the day both on this site and on Twitter (where the phenomenally brilliant Georgia is hosting drinks around the time the shops – the actual ones manned by human … Continued

VI There are two fields, one to the north, one to the south, intersected by the road that runs through the middle of the village, a road that is both the high street, the locus of all commerce, the façade of our place, and a section of the Ridgeway—the ancient track that also once meant … Continued

Four years ago I was contacted by a writer whose work I knew from The Wire and other publications on Twitter called David Keenan. He had, a few months previously, written a scabrous review of a book I was proud of publishing and here he was (the cheeky bastard), petitioning me to read a novel which I … Continued

V Lonely, fraught, strange days. I am up at four with the sun and the birdsong. My days have taken on the rhythm of these non-human things, beginning in dim light and settling into the long lull of the afternoon before a brief flare of energy as the evening turns into the night. My walks … Continued

IV Perhaps the Paper Lantern itself—this suddenly strange, suddenly useless and rather sad building just off the main road in our unimportant little ‘village’—bears a bit of describing. Where to start. Perhaps the plain greyish front door on South Street, the all-important road out, the road to the big city and all that might mean, … Continued

The opening sequence of Ken Hughes’ 1963 beat-crime masterpiece The Small World of Sammy Lee is a collage of tracking shots of an early Soho morning, set to an elegiac Kenny Graham jazz score. A cleaning truck hoses down empty market stalls. Newspapers blow about in the breeze. Pigeons flutter, then scatter. A series of … Continued

Dig if you will the picture. It’s 3.20am and about 200 of the most forward-thinking, risk-embracing, party-loving publishers in Europe (and a smattering of bemused Americans) are dancing to Tim Burgess of The Charlatans who is dj-ing at the infamous Saturday night after-party at a certain festival in The Hague. They are joined by a … Continued

I don’t know how to break this to everyone, but you’ve got your infamous seducer metaphors all messed up. He’s not Svengali, he’s Rasputin.  There’s been loads written about Cummings over the last few days. His failed airline startup during a mysterious few years in Russia. His hiding in a bunker on his dad’s farm … Continued

The last 8 weeks have been defined by an absence of action – at least any action that involved moving my body beyond the well trodden route of bed, fridge, sofa, desk, lawn, bed. Occasionally the bath when I got my act together.  This week, all that changed.  It started small. I made some decisions … Continued

III The morning after the VE Day celebrations comes on with a violent reminder of the previous world of this pub, of me, of my life with my parents. I sit in the sun and try to sweat the hangover out—a horror that seems barely credible. A few doors down the street the man with … Continued

Phil May was born in Erith , a bleak, industrial town in the most easterly corner of London.  He lived a few streets away from me and was viewed with suspicion because of his rebellious, beatnik look and his shoulder-length hair.  He was always a rebel with a cause. Jagger and Richards lived in neighbouring … Continued

II. What could be worse than spending these last few weeks alone in a place defined by its public communal aspect? A fatuous statement of course—there is always a case worse off than your own. And I say alone, but that is also a bit of a conceptual stretch, as in fact I live here … Continued

An occasional installation project in which I cement an mp3 player into the fabric of a structure, somewhere in the city or its outskirts. A rumination on the built environment and the psyche. This 3rd edition takes place in another nebulous landscape where regions overlap – Ardwick, Beswick, Gorton – leylines stretching out towards East … Continued

Stayed alert – well as alert as you can be in a soporific stupor, muscles atrophied through never leaving the house, weighed down by 1500 superfluous calories a day sourced mainly from butter and carbohydrates, senses dulled by a steady stream of Italian white wine from the top shelf of Marks and Spencer’s, vision impaired … Continued

If there’s one thing I’ve learnt over the last month or so, it’s that people are nervous about telling secrets to strangers. You might consider that to be a fairly self-evident kind of truth and you’d probably be right. But when I get an idea I tend to think about the technicalities, the ways to … Continued

I’ve finally had it with the footy. I don’t even know where to start, 30 odd years with a Liverpool season ticket but fuck it, it’s gotta go for good. It’s hard to write this. It’s like finally accepting that the girl you fell in love with decades ago and that you thought you’d grow … Continued

I. We will begin with a rough physical description. The place is a small market town which, for some reason, insists upon being called a village. But how, you might ask, would a place insist on such a thing? Already we hit upon a point of interest—does the place have some innate sense of self? … Continued

Listened to Florence blasting My Sharona from her room constantly. Bought a massive new fern which was delivered upside down but survived.  Rewatched some of Patrick Melrose which I maintain is one of the best things ever made. Ordered the books which arrived in one huge volume which I look forward to devouring soon – … Continued

Here at The Social Gathering we’ve been marking May Day by celebrating how we come together to fight the power, enact revenge and resist sexual control. Another May Day weekend tradition is getting together on the streets and in warehouses and under arches and in pubs with people who love music as much as you … Continued

The only memory and association I have for May Day is the ritual of making wreaths at my grandmother’s home in Corinth as a kid. I would wake up excited, and after a gluttonous portion of Tiganites she’d made for us, I would briskly get dressed and wicker basket in hand jump out and over … Continued

Nineteen years ago, at the anticapitalist protest in central London, me and my friend Ellie and a few hundred other people were kettled by military police at Oxford Circus. They had surrounded the whole junction in a big circle, their arms interlinked like state-sanctioned linedancers. I sometimes still look fondly at the spot, outside Benetton, … Continued

Hack a path through the briars and push open the gate. The creak is a music that wakes the dead and gives them permission to keep haunting us. Almost ten years ago now I published a book at Faber and Faber called Electric Eden by Rob Young.  Its subtitle is (as far as subtitles go) unusually useful: Unearthing … Continued

“So the scholars say it was one of our religions when we lived in caves… I can’t say whether its druidic or neolithic, but you’ve got to admit this Padstow Oss dance is pretty terrific.” Words written by Alan Lomax, 1953 I’ve been fascinated with Britain’s May Day traditions for a long time. In any … Continued

BDS is one of my favourite photographers but somehow I’ve never seen these photos he took at the May Day protests just after the millennium. They are an incredible bit of time travel, taking you back to a very different London – one where you were far more likely to be ‘kettled’ than socially distanced. … Continued

To mark the launch of Mark Lanegan’s memoir SING BACKWARDS AND WEEP in the UK, we teamed with White Rabbit to celebrate it with an online launch on their Twitter account. You can catch up on the whole thing here, and there are some highlights below – including a Q&A with Mark, a playlist featuring all the songs featured … Continued

Talking about things you like is fun. Fun is fun. High energy is fun, low energy is fun. Coffee is fun. America’s most notable coffee championing comedian, Chelsea Peretti, is fun. Below are some suggestions of Chelsea Peretti related fun. Chelsea Peretti is my favourite. Peretti, for me, has been a consistent humour compass. Content-wise, … Continued

Abandoned bras. Abandoned the hairdryer. Abandoned face wash. Abandoned razors. Abandoned any clothing without an elasticated waistband and three way stretch. Contributed significantly to Uniqlo’s ability to stay afloat in these UNPRECEDENTED times. Swept the floor by the back door constantly but still the crap accumulated there every day. Justified my mood swings as a … Continued

This weekend, The Social Gathering launches its semi-regular daydream travel section. Imagine An Island is your first class ticket on the next flight out of here; an escape from this reality to destinations as yet undiscovered. Each issue will explore a different destination as visualised by artists and designers. The first is an unspoilt nutopia with images by Social Gathering … Continued

A classic Social logo tee with our ‘Because No One Should Drink Alone’ manifesto designed by Raissa Pardini on the back. Pre-order available 1 month. SHOP NOW All the profits from this tshirt will go towards keeping the Social Gathering project ticking over whilst the bar on Little Portland St is shut. We’re still open … Continued

(The Most Approximate Anti-Christ Blackboard by Babak Ganjei) — It’s 1984, a noisy Belfast classroom at break-time and some numerology is underway in the back of a homework diary. Teen fans of the divinatory arts are determining who out of Kevin Rowland, Chaka Khan and Paul Rutherford from Frankie most approximates the Antichrist. Our mystical … Continued

It was around the time the airline cancelled our flights that I began to dream of an island.  Easy Jet’s decision was absolute, and our first family holiday in years was already a receding dream before the lockdown began. Their prescient move helped to assuage a nervousness that had gnawed away at me since mid-February … Continued

Announced internally “right that’s it now, I can’t do this anymore”, like that gave me license to take some forbidden action. Like once I’d properly acknowledged it, some path would be revealed that had remained hidden for the last 4 weeks, until I really needed it. Or maybe someone in authority was going to hear … Continued

In September 2019 (a properly different world it was then!) the Birmingham Museum and Art Gallery approached Cold War Steve to work on a commission based around their amazing Digital Image Resource. The idea was to dig deep into the archives and give some of their fantastic pieces the CWS treatment, and in doing so … Continued

‘At the restaurant he put his phone face-down on the table, so I did the same as if for me, too, this represented a professional sacrifice’.  So writes Naoise Dolan, about Julian (a banker), watched by Ava (a TEFL teacher), in the second paragraph of Exciting Times – a novel I am lucky enough to … Continued

Thanked God for immigrants (thank you Jeremy Deller). Missed drinking cocktails on a Saturday afternoon with Jen and Louise. Missed making Louise uncomfortable with excessive displays of physical affection. Missed trying to get Jen out of a cab and into a bar while she enquires about the driver’s entire life history. Ate a ridiculous amount of … Continued

A few years back, our friend Kieran Evans made a beautiful and intimate film with legendary singer / songwriter Vashti Bunyan. From Here To Before retraces the steps of her late ’60s journey from London to the Outer Hebrides by horse and cart and spends time with her before her return to the stage in … Continued

In the early noughties, Tesco Extra-esque supermarkets were hailed the new superclubs. A place of consumerist worship for the Nespresso generation. Star fade to 2020 and supermarkets are now legitimately THE ONLY public place to hear locally (and internationally) sourced (mostly) ethical BANGERS. Specifically Co-Op. At this point, I don’t know if other supermarkets even play … Continued

White Rabbit: I’m assuming the film is set in Hartlepool judging by those accents. When did you first come across Rambo?  Maxy Bianco: Yes the film was made in Hartlepool. Myself and Michael Smith had been developing the idea for the films on paper for a preposed series of short films for Channel 4 called, … Continued

Waved at people a lot. Bathed less regularly than I’d imagined I would in the circumstances. Thanked God this wasn’t happening when my children were any younger, when every day started at 5am and I struggled to even get through some weekends. Thought about everyone who has young children and is holding it down. Thought … Continued

During the last decade or so, Andrew Weatherall was a regular presence at The Social. It wasn’t uncommon to see him manning the decks behind the upstairs bar as the staff poured drinks, or playing downstairs on one of his regular Moine Dubh nights, warming up for someone like Beck when he breezed through town … Continued

This is an extract from the new book I’ve been working on, about a bloke having a midlife crisis while late capitalism has its own spectacular crisis all around him, asking himself what the fuck (if anything) it all means – a bit angsty, a bit funny, set in a pretty, shabby, post-apocalyptic seaside town … Continued

Happy publication day to Will Burns, whose long-awaited debut collection, Country Music, is now out! We had a big blowout launch party at The Social planned, but sadly have had to postpone it due to the dread virus. But, of course, we’ll still be celebrating at a distance! In the evening (join us at 6pm on … Continued

Less than a year after it opened, The Social hosted a huge birthday party for Annie Nightingale on both floors of the bar. It coincided with a day of civil unrest in the capitol and kickstarted 300 monumental hangovers. Twenty years on to the day, we’re all on lockdown and The Social is running as a virtual pub on … Continued

The escalation of the virus has coincided with the Vernal Equinox, the immediate prospect of the clocks going backwards (time will be joining the current reality field) and the official commencement of what has already been a wonderful and restorative early spring. There is now more daylight than night; at least we won’t have to … Continued

Thanked God I didn’t have to tell my children Tom Hanks had died. Wore a lot of big earrings. Extended my loungewear collection beyond its already excessive levels. Maintained my lipstick schedule. Missed wearing suits. Ordered flea treatment on a monthly subscription at 5am one day because it was an anxiety I could easily manage. … Continued

Rap, Rave & The Rise of XL Recordings

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