Last Wednesday – the Boogaloo Movie Quiz. My previous attempt at hosting any kind of a gathering was my birthday party in Ipswich 1990. About 3 of the 30 people I invited turned up. In the end the four of us just sat around morosely and watched Vic Reeves's Big Night Out like the good college students we were. I've never hosted a party since, birthday or not. Like Miss Havisham at the altar, I can take a hint. Unlike her, I hasten to add, no vengeful feelings upon malekind were harboured. Even back then I'd learned to resist that particular daily temptation.

So for this film quiz fourteen years later I ask nine people to come, being a selection of film fans, London social butterflies, or both. This way, even if the 1990 party trauma repeats itself, I reason, I'll still be left with a respectable team size. I also impose a slight dress code: dress stylishly, make an effort, and on no account wear trainers. We may not win the quiz, but at least we could win in the Most Stylish Team In The Room stakes. To make our mark further, I bring a vase of fresh white lilies. As Mr Wilde says:

<i>"White lilies, in whose cups the gold bees dream,
The fallen snow of petals where the breeze
Scatters the chestnut blossom, or the gleam
Of boyish limbs in water, – are not these
Enough for thee, dost thou desire more?</i>

In fact, all nine team members turn up, plus Ms Ruta brings Mr Atomic:

<img src="http://www.biggerboat-filmquiz.co.uk/images/SEPTquizPic12.jpg"></img>

[photo by Mr Hupfield, from the <a href="http://www.biggerboat-filmquiz.co.uk/" target="_blank">quiz website</a>]

Clockwise from front: Mr Atomic, Ms Ruta, Ms Andrei, Ms Mann, Mr White, Mr Kennedy, Ms Welch, Mr Edwards, Ms Frost, Ms Madison.

It's just as well the organizers aren't strict on team size. I feel a bit guilty that we are occupying seats while some teams are forced to stand. Still, I am the quiz guest of honour, invited by the organizers to form my own team and see what I make of their event. They have no need to publicise the quiz among my readers – it couldn't be more packed – but they do want to read my take on it.

Although I'm a regular at the pub – indeed, I'm the place's official First Ambassador – I've not attended the movie quiz till now. This is partly because I've not been invited to join anyone's team, but mainly because the films featured tend to be popcorn blockbusters with lots of guns and explosions, which aren't really my cup of tea. I do not know the locations of Executive Decision or Sudden Impact 2, nor can I recognise the theme tune to Mortal Kombat.

As it turns out, the quiz is vastly enjoyably even if one's knowledge proves wanting. A general sense of fun prevails, with the tying winners decided by a game of Scissors Paper Rock. The two organizers, Mr Hupfield and Mr Williams, let their personalities fall into an agreeably entertaining yin-yang double-act – the grumpy one and the cheery one. Though both are equally charming and kind, even sending a drink to my table. I am quite touched.

Another tension-disarming element of the quiz is having all the questions subtitled upon a large screen especially provided for the occasion. Keeping a packed pub absolutely silent while questions are read out can induce a certain stress, and might even suggest a pub quiz is meant to be taken terribly seriously. The use of subtitles loosens up this element considerably, so the air of playful nonchalance remains unfettered.

The screen is also used for rounds featuring movie posters and trailers, and for celebrity questions. On this occasion, we have a bemused and be-jet-lagged Ben Stiller and Vince Vaughan obligingly addressing the Boogaloo, presumably filmed by a film journo friend while the actors were doing the London press for that new film they're in, whatever it is.

As you've probably gathered, Dear Reader, I turn out to be not much of a team player. More a sedentary cheerleader, content to provide moral support. Although I do know a few answers, not least which musician appears in O Lucky Man, I don't think I provide anything exclusively. For instance, Mr White not only knows about O Lucky Man but can recognise the poster for "BASEketball", my ignorance of which is unlikely to trouble me between here and the grave. With his suit and scarlet cuff links, Mr White personifies the melding of gentleman style with impressive movie trivia content. Mr Kennedy bought new shoes especially for the occasion. The others are elegantly turned out in black dresses, or in Ms Ruta and Mr Atomic's case, their usual takes on self-fashioned anti-fashion.

Our team includes a lecturer in film studies, a worker in the best video shop in North London, and a DVD reviewer for a glossy magazine. Despite this and our outrageous team size, we come joint seventh. But that matters little – I enjoy myself immensely and book a table at the next quiz in October.

As far as I'm concerned, it's not the winning that counts. It's the taking flowers.

Today is my 33rd birthday. I share it with Charlie Sheen, Princess Michael of Kent, and the outbreak of World War Two.

Tonight I shall be celebrating or commiserating this tragedy at <a href="http://www.howdoesitfeel.f9.co.uk/club.html" target="_blank">How Does It Feel To Be Loved</a>, the Brixton version. All are welcome to join me.

Between now and then… what? Seems a vaguely pleasant day. I may go for a long, long walk and consider things.

This time last year I went to Crystal Palace Park to look at the newly-restored <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/london/yourlondon/crystal_palace/virtual_tours.shtml" target="_blank">Victorian Dinosaur park</a>. It was something I'd been meaning to do since childhood, when I'd been excited by photos of the stone beasts in books. I finally got around to meeting them last year, though they seemed not as large or as impressive as the images I'd carried around in my head for decades. The restoration made them look too clean, too new. The rest of Crystal Palace Park is a museum in absentia with only two Sphinxs, the staircase and a solitary statue surviving from the original Palace.

Visiting this place alone on one's birthday turned one's mind to gloomy metaphors. Adulthood as a desolate park, slightly out of the way of where Life really goes on, consisting of a handful of relics from the past, the spaces where the past used to be, and nothing else. The mossy, unrestored remnants are intact but forlorn, and suggest failure. The newly painted, rejuvenated artifacts should suggest coping with the present, but in fact engender desperation and disappointment. Adulthood forever failing to live up to the publicity.

Yet, thinking further, the dinosaurs can become joyous and idiosyncratic tributes to the past. They are steeped in factual inaccuracy. But they're stylish mistakes, entertaining mistakes, personal mistakes, original mistakes, created as they were by the man who invented the very word "dinosaur".

Unlikely, incongruous, improbable, ridiculous, pointless, useless, possibly disappointing in the flesh, but ultimately I'm glad they exist.

This, then, is the way you find me thinking about my life this morning.

I'm often told I should just "grow up". I regard this as the equivalent of receiving a postcard from Hell, saying "Having A Horrible Time. Wish You Were Here."

It's just as well I find being gloomy and alone enormously enjoyable. Yet I also love chatting and dancing in clubs and bars with friendly company. I am a sociable recluse. One should always be able to have one's Victorian Dinosaur cake and eat it.

Feeling a little better thanks to downing as much anti-flu medication as one can without moving into the realms of overdose. When one awakes shivering like Scott of the Antarctic, then sweating like Lawrence of Arabia an hour later, it can all be rather frightening.

Typically I had some actual work due in today. An introduction to a new edition of Jerome K Jerome's Idle Thoughts Of An Idle Fellow. It's been out of print for 20 years, only available in audiobook until now. The book is effectively An Audience With Mr Jerome and often reads like the transcription of an 1886 stand-up observational comedy routine. One section is titled "On Cats And Dogs". Jerome K Jerome – the Victorian Eddie Izzard.

The book was written three years before "Three Men In A Boat", which instantly made Jerome rich and famous. "Idle Thoughts", however, is very much written from the point of view of someone holding down an office day job after surviving bouts of genuine poverty. In the book, this tempers his haughty epigrams comparable with the best of Wilde, with humanity worthy of Dickens.

The publishers of this new edition are suddenly keen to get the book out as soon as possible, given the new trend of Idleness that’s starting to appear in the news. The French bestseller lists are dominated by an anti-work charter, Bonjour Paresse. Italy has held its first National Convention of the Idle, declaring Idleness to be a sign of intelligence rather than a vice. In Britain, Mr Hodgkinson, editor of The Idler, has published a heavily-researched, semi-historical manual, How To Be Idle.

It’s all done with a certain amount of humour, naturally, but there’s some serious points made about idleness as an existential, even political act. In these desperate times of feeling At The Mercy Of Others, whether it's uncaring employers, politicians or TV producers, a little deliberate idleness can be no bad thing. If there's nothing one can do about things, sometimes the only option is to indeed do nothing – but on purpose. Idleness should never be confused with default laziness or characterless apathy – Idleness has style.

Wake up freezing and shivering like mad. In late August.

I suppose this means I've REALLY got the flu.

Feel awful – summer flu has gotten around to me. I snuffle and sneeze and sweat and sob uselessly into the Highgate night. All very boring.

Still, my vanity is fuelled – and therefore my well-being – by glancing at the collaborative on-line comic strip <a href="http://www.caption.org/caption-cgi/hello.cgi/phoenix/" target="_blank">"The Picky Picky Game"</a>. This is run by <a href="http://caption.org/" target="_blank">CAPTION</a>, the annual alternative comics convention based in Oxford.

The Harlequin Shrimp-owning character is based vaguely on myself, from the time I posed for a book cover as a man walking a pet lobster. He's now being drawn by Mr Gullo in the US (<lj user="tzarohell">) as well as by Ms Dennis (<lj user="cleanskies">) in the UK. Myself as Transatlantic Virtual Muse. Needless to say, I love the attention. There are ancient tribes who believe being photographed steals their soul. I feel that happening if I am <i>not</i> photographed. Likewise being drawn or painted.

Here's another D.E.- inspired comic character, again by Mr Gullo. This time, a demon with six fingers. The creator says he was originally going to give the demon character two mouths, but he "rather likes my mouth as it is…".

<img align=left src="http://www.fosca.com/destruction.jpg"></img>

London is currently in the grip of one-off heavy showers. This is the way London should be, of course, except that it's still quite warm. I have to keep opening my window to get some air into my stuffy little room, then close it again when great balls of warm water batter in. One regular background noise is the sound of car alarms set off by the more violent bouts of precipitation. What a simile. Never mind raining cats and dogs. It's raining like car thieves.

Sat in the Boogaloo yesterday nursing a sullen Magners. Have started to wear charity shop ladies' silk scarves instead of ties. They feel and look so right on me that I can't believe I've not worn them before. The joy of putting on new clothes that feel as if one has worn them forever, like a reunion of twins separated at birth.

I realise this now makes me resemble either a theatre director or, I'll be the first to admit it, Quentin Crisp more than ever. Still, if the caprice fits, wear it.

I do wonder if Mr Crisp's fame is starting to dim and slip from view, five years on from his death. I recently met a tender teenage transsexual from New York, and he'd not heard of The Naked Civil Servant. Being famous for Being rather than Doing is all rather well while alive, but if one wants the fame to continue after the grave, one has to leave something lasting. A life story can only last beyond death and, more importantly, beyond reprinting, if the subject itself has lasting work to back them up. <a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/exec/obidos/ASIN/0330391852/dickonedwards-21" target="_blank">There is a recent chunky biography</a> tracing the lives of Crisp and another London "character" best known for his persona, Philip O'Connor. But like Mr Hoare's book on Stephen Tennant, I shouldn't think it'll stay in print for very long. There's only so many people who are interested in reading biographies of dead fops. And I know all their names.

Mr Crisp did publish two perfectly enjoyable but quickly out-of-print novels, "Love Made Easy" and "Chog". The latter is a grotesque gothic fantasy now doubtlessly comparable to Lemony Snicket. Typically, it sold well in Japan as a children's novel, but nowhere else. With Mr Crisp, there's no Dorian Gray, a novel familiar even to those who've never read it. There's no Importance Of Being Earnest, the most performed play in the English language after anything by Mr Shakespeare. Without these two works, I doubt Mr Wilde would be as immortal as he is now, trial or no trial, quote books or no quote books. Likewise Ms Parker and her poems and stories. There has to be art to point to. And it must still be in print.

The Boogaloo wasn't too packed that Wednesday evening, even though it was a day when two different BBC Radio 1 programmes mentioned the place, according to my little friends. I only ever listen to BBC London and Radio 4 myself. It transpires the pop quiz this week was attended by some shouting DJs I have heard of but could never recognise even if I were in the same room. Which I was. Mr Moyles, Mr Mills, Ms Bowman. They turned out to be amusingly bad losers, ranting on air the next day about the difficulty of the quiz, between playing Hear'Say records and holding competitions to win trainers, or whatever it is they do for a living.

Both Stephen Tennant and Hear'Say are celebrities forever trapped in their respective slices of time. Both have out-of-print biographies on Amazon.co.uk. <a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/exec/obidos/ASIN/0140165320/dickonedwards-21" target="_blank">Used copies of Serious Pleasures currently sell for £20</a>, while <a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/exec/obidos/ASIN/0233999418/dickonedwards-21" target="_blank">The Making Of Hear'Say is yours for 10p</a>. People speak of "the price of fame", but as Mr Amazon has declared, there's different prices for different types of dead fame.

There's a newsagents in Archway where one can still buy Hear'Say birthday cards. Ars longa, vita brevis.

Further to my previous entry, here are some sample questions taken from previous editions of <a href="http://www.biggerboat-filmquiz.co.uk" target="_blank">the Boogaloo film quiz</a>. These should help to give an inkling of the sort of knowledge required. My thanks to Mr Hupfield for providing these.

I was going to say I'll post the answers in a few days. But then I realised this is the Web. <a href="http://www.google.co.uk/" target="_blank">Google</a> is but a click away.

*****
<b>Name the films with the following taglines.</b>

1. A world inside the computer where man has never been. Never before now.
2. The creators of JAWS and STAR WARS now bring you the ultimate hero in the ultimate adventure.
3. The Night HE Came Home!
4. Don't close your eyes.
5. These are the Armies Of The Night. They are 100,000 strong. They outnumber cops five to one. They could rule New York. Tonight they're all out for…
6 – It's not who you love. It's how.
7 – Love. Expulsion. Revolution.
8 – A nervous romance.
9 – Can two friends sleep together and still love each other in the morning?
10 – Can the most famous film star in the world fall for just an ordinary guy?

<b>General knowledge questions.</b>

1 – What is the name of Holly Golightly's cat in 'Breakfast At Tiffany's'?
2 – Which actors play the Devil in the 1967 original and 2000 remake of 'Bedazzled'? Point for each
3 – Which of these Jon Voight films is the odd one out, and why? Point for film, point for reason
(a) Midnight Cowboy
(b) Mission Impossible
(c) The Champ
(d) Anaconda
4 – In which of these films does Jack Black not appear?
(a) Waterworld
(b) The Never Ending Story III
(c) Kingpin
5 – Who plays Prince's love interest in 'Under The Cherry Moon'?
6 – What are the names of Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslett's characters in 'Titanic'? Point for each
7 – Which five films have been nominated for this year's best picture oscar?
8 – Which two singers star in the 1976 version of 'A Star Is Born'
9 – How many Oscars was 'Gone With The Wind' nominated for, and how may did it win? Point for each number, point for each one of the winning categories you can name…
10 – What's the sequel to 'Love Story' called?
11 – Who directed the 1968 and 1996 film versions of 'Romeo & Juliet'? Point for each
12 – Which actor links 'A Nightmare On Elm Street', 'The Astronaut's Wife' and 'Chocolat'?
13 – Who plays the 'Hollow Man' in the film of the same name?
14 – Which actors played the character Valmont in the films Dangerous Liasons and Cruel Intentions?
15 – Who plays Scarlett Johansson's husband in the film 'Lost In Translation'?
16 – Who is playing 'Alfie' in the remake of the sixties classic?
17 – Which actors have played the vampire Lestat? Extra point for film names.
18 – Who directed the 1998 remake of Hitchcock's classic 'Psycho'?
19 – In the film 'Blade', what is Blade's first name?
20 – Who played Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band in the film of the same name?
21 – How many Bob Hope/Bing Crosby 'Road' movies were there? Point for the number, point for each title.
22 – Who wrote and directed 'An American Werewolf In London'? For an extra point, which film was he working on when he wrote the original script?
23 – Who directed both the 1972 and 2002 versions of 'Solaris'?
24 – Which actor links these three films? The Big Lebowski. The Talented Mr. Ripley. Twister.
25 – Two actors turned down the role of Neo in 'The Matrix' prior to Keanu Reeves. Who were they? Point for each.
26 – In the 'Nightmare On Elm Street' series, who plays Freddy Krueger?
27 – In the film 'O Brother Where Art Thou', which actors play the following characters: Big Dan McTeague; Ulysses Everett McGill; Delmar O'Donnell; Penny Wharvey; and Pete. (in order, please)
28 – Who directed 'The Empire Strikes Back'?
29 – Who played IMF leader Jim Phelps in the big screen version of 'Mission Impossible'?
30 – Gangster epic 'Road To Perdition', science fiction comedy 'Men In Black', quirky indie drama 'Ghost World' and adult animation 'Fritz The Cat' have what in common?
31 – Name Britney Spears's film debut.
32 – Who played 'Trapper John' McIntyre and 'Hawkeye' Pierce in the 1970 movie M*A*S*H? In order, please.
33 – What do Gollum and Joy Division producer Martin Hannett have in common?
34 – 'Blame Canada' from 'South Park: Bigger, Longer & Uncut' was nominated for the 200 Best Song Oscar. Who performed it at the live event?
35 – What is the name of O.J. Simpson's character in the 'Naked Gun' trilogy?
36 – Who or what is Kes in the film 'Kes'?

Wednesday afternoon – to the Finchley Phoenix to see Performance (second time in four days), followed by Deep Blue. The former really does benefit from repeated viewings on the big screen. One can keep on spotting future echoes, symbolism, references and in-jokes. This time I notice the Mars Bars left outside Mr Jagger’s front door like milk bottles. An in-joke for those aware of the then recent story concerning Ms Faithfull and the local constabulary.

I also notice Mr Fox improvising with an eel. Lurking in long shot upon the House of Naughtiness’s kitchen table is a tank dominated by two gigantic gulping fish. As Mr Fox comes into the kitchen to exchange dreamlike dialogue with the decadent residents, he notices a long, black eel slip out onto the table. While continuing to deliver his lines, Mr Fox nonchalantly returns the creature to the tank one-handed, as if it’s something he does every day. Can Act While Handling Escaping Eels – handy to have on one’s CV.

Performance, now a staple of Best British Film polls, continues to be unavailable on DVD. Seeing it whenever possible in the cinema is the only way of noticing such details.

In honour of Mr Fox’s fish handling prowess, I stay for the Phoenix’s next matinee movie. Deep Blue is a 90 minute cinema version of the BBC TV series The Blue Planet. The most popcorn-compatible, child-pleasing footage from the programme is presented here: seals, penguins, sharks, whale-on-whale violence, and the otherwordly denizens of the inky abyss. Of this last category, we marvel at that toothy fish that’s part lamp-post, plus the transparent thing that confuses its prey by shooting out little delayed-action fireworks around it. One doubts very much that this creature makes the Star Wars laser noises assigned by the film, but no one is complaining.

Mr Attenborough’s aloof educational tones have been taped over and replaced by Mr Gambon’s dramatic, Dumbledore voice-over. His narration is also very sparse, with often the briefest of introductory lines for scenes lasting some time. Deep Blue is unashamedly more spectacle than education, so the bigger the screen the better. Interesting that it was once Disney who were synonymous with cinematic nature documentaries, lying to us about lemmings. Now it’s the BBC who rule the waves.

*******

Return home to an email from the organisers of the Boogaloo’s monthly film quiz. They’ve invited me to the next quiz on September 1st, and have already reserved me a table some weeks in advance at which to form my own team. I accept this kind offer, and start to worry about who I could get to accompany me.

Normally the quiz concerns itself more with popcorn than carrot cake, but on this occasion they will include some questions on art-house and foreign language titles, due to my presence. I am flattered.

Do I really prefer arthouse fare to blockbuster films? I keep a sporadically updated list of my favourite movies lurking on my computer for those times when people ask to be recommended something, or just want to know my preferences. Now would be a good time to peruse it.

There are so many films I enjoy that to narrow the list down one must include additional criteria. As well as being films one loves, they must be films one can also re-watch forever. On top of that, they must be films one is happy to be represented by. In the same way some people make a compilation of favourite songs in the hope of friendship. Or more than friendship. The List As Self-Portrait. What kind of a person am I? Well, here’s my favourite films.

In no particular order:

Rope
If….
O Lucky Man!
Liquid Sky
Picnic At Hanging Rock
The Boys In The Band
Orphee
Broadcast News
London (dir. by Patrick Keiller)
Metropolitan
The Naked Civil Servant (if one is allowed a TV movie)
Memento
Performance
Network
Topsy-Turvy
Cabaret
Brief Encounter
The Ladykillers (Ealing version)
A Matter Of Life And Death
Hannah and Her Sisters

Although some of the above aren’t strangers to an Odeon distribution, it’s true I’m generally not keen on Hollywood blockbusters with a fondness for Gratuitous Explosions.

I was appalled to discover the makers of the British film 28 Days Later deliberately included a scene in the first reel where a petrol station explodes spectacularly for no good reason. Its presence, according to the DVD audio commentary, was so the movie would be taken “seriously” by the young American moviegoing boys who rule the world. Only by featuring such an explosion could the film hold its own alongside the oeuvre of Mr Schwarzenegger. Or so the makers depressingly maintained. This revelation rather soured my enjoyment of 28 Days Later. Some DVD commentaries can make one enjoy a film more. Others can make one loathe to see anything made the same director ever again.

So I must now gather a team for the film quiz. I think I shall name it The War Against Gratuitous Explosions.

If, Dear Reader, you consider yourself a film buff and are willing and able to be on my team at the Boogaloo come the evening of September 1st, please email me. Oh, and there’s a couple of rules.

The first rule of Fop Club is you do not wear trainers.

The second rule of Fop Club is you DO NOT wear trainers.

Yesterday – to the Finchley Phoenix to see a double-bill of The Servant and Performance. I'm familiar with them both via TV, but Performance in particular benefits enormously from a proper cinema screening. I still haven't quite recovered a day later. Perhaps it's the effect of the current muggy state of the city, but by the time the credits rolled I felt as if I'd been personally romping around with young Mr Jagger and his jolly chums.

Both films take place within the confines of a sequestered London house in the 1960s. Both feature Mr Fox undergoing an identity transformation at the hands of his male co-star after an extended build-up. Yet no one would call this a James Fox double bill. He acts perfectly well, but is entirely outdone in terms of screen presence. The Servant belongs to Mr Bogarde, just as Performance does to Mr Jagger.

The "bullet through the brain" zoom shot in Performance is the kind of movie effect one sees all the time these days. But even the likes of Fight Club wouldn't feature a photo of Jorge Luis Borges popping out halfway along the brain trajectory. More's the pity.

Best line: Mr Fox on Mr Jagger's character. "He'll look really funny when he's fifty."

Just found out that <a href="http://www.phoenixcinema.co.uk/families/earlybird/index.htm" target="_blank">The Phoenix, god bless it, is showing Performance again this Wednesday at 1pm.</a> Tickets are £4 and include a free tea or coffee. I think I'll go. If I had a day job, I'd phone in sick to attend.

Actually, that's exactly why I was sacked from an office job in Bristol circa 1993. I felt like seeing a matinee of "Groundhog Day" far more than going into work. So I phoned in sick and chose happiness for that day. It wasn't the first time. Come the Monday, I was told to clear my desk. I'd do it again like a shot. I'm fairly certain no one died from insolvency documents not being typed up.

Doubtless some toiling readers will be appalled by that above confession. People tell me, "That's all very well Dickon, but I have bills, a mortgage and an ungrateful chinchilla to support. I can't afford to lose my job." Well, neither could I at that point. But I survived somehow. Once again, life is either a disaster or an adventure. So better make it an adventure.

It's true that if everyone who was unhappy with their job acted like me, civilisation would collapse at once. But oh, what a party!

Last night – to <a href="http://www.howdoesitfeel.f9.co.uk/club.html" target="_blank">How Does It Feel To Be Loved</a>, the Brixton version of one of London's friendliest and, as its name suggests, most downright loveable club nights. The Canterbury Arms turns out to be an appropriately lovely venue, much nicer and roomier than the Buffalo Bar. A well-lit sofa area by the bar allows people to sit and chat and enjoy South London pub prices. Oh, the relief on one's wallet.

I dance to <i>two</i> Orange Juice songs: "Falling and Laughing" and "L.O.V.E. Love". The Smiths' "Jeane" is played, as is "First Of The Gang To Die". Two Morrisseys, twenty-one years apart. Some Style Council, Felt, Echo and the Bunnymen. As I'm talking to guest DJ Mr Slocombe, who played on the Monochrome Set's "Dante's Casino", we hear that album's "House Of God". It sounds entirely at home in the club.

I arrive quite early, so I sit and listen to the likes of The Field Mice's little 1989 Croydon-made demo "Emma's House" booming out over a 2004 club PA. The song sounds to me as downright <i>soulful</i> as anything by Ms Franklin. Soulful as in the unflinching sincerity of the lead vocal, far more emotional than any ululating Pop Idol's attempts to "emote" across the octaves. Played in a club venue with only a few others in the room, it really does sound like the song is being sung directly, personally, to you. The Song as Confidant.

And that's more or less the club's brief. 60s soul and soul-pop next to soul-searching 80s indie and indie-pop. Having said that, it's pretty flexible. Le Tigre and The Yeah Yeah Yeahs manage to get aired.

One song turns out to be by Snow Patrol, and so must be fairly new. To my ageing ears, it sounds like very reminiscent of early 90s "shoegazing" indie disco songs, such as "Winona" by one-indie-hit wonders the Drop Nineteens. I rather fancy hearing "Winona" again, in fact. Later, The Buzzcocks are played next to The Strokes, and it's difficult to hear two decades between them. But then again, The Style Council and Orange Juice drew as heavily on their record collections then as Franz Ferdinand and Belle and Sebastian do now. Recycling is… nothing new.

For me, the venue's only shortcoming is the extremely sticky dance floor, making it impossible to skate and slide around in true Northern Soul style. Some flour or sawdust required, I think. Perhaps I should bring my own next time.

The next Brixton HDIF date is September 3rd, my birthday. Amelia Fletcher will be the guest DJ. So that's my birthday sorted out.

As I write, London is impossibly hot and humid. It's a difficult place to be right now for sun-avoiders like myself. Thankfully, I intend to spend tomorrow afternoon in a nice dark cinema. My nearest independent filmhouse, The Finchley Phoenix (patrons: Mike Leigh, Maureen Lipman) is showing a <a href="http://www.phoenixcinema.co.uk/films/sundayrep/index.htm" target="_blank">double bill of The Servant and Performance</a>. Two great 60s Dark London films, both of which I've never seen on the big screen before. Where else could I possibly spend the sunshine?