NME and We Are Scientists – All in a day for RPB

Confetti Canons should be compulsory at weddings

Confetti Canons should be compulsory at weddings

It’s not every day that you get asked to play at the NME.com editor’s wedding.

This is perhaps for a number of reasons; primarily, the NME doesn’t have 365 different editors for its website – that would be an unsustainable business model.

Or, to look at it from another angle, Greg and his beautiful wife, Laura only needed to ask us once. Anyway, let’s not get bogged down in the seemingly endless pedantic possibilities, we of course graciously accepted the offer.

Cargo, London being the prestigious venue for the wedding party, we felt like proper rock stars, even getting a proper soundman for a proper soundcheck. Turns out, the lovely engineer, Jean has been Afrobeat legend Dele Sosimi’s bass player in his time. Everything is starting to feel really cool.

Soundcheck is done and we have a couple of hours to kill in the hipster theme park that is Shoreditch. Man, what is this place? It’s absolutely mental. Nathan Barley is, somewhat troublingly, 10 years old now, but rather than blow apart the absurdities of this part of London’s culture, it seems only to have helped to accelerate the bizarre bazaar of everything achingly trendy.

Yep, we saw the cereal bar, the Pret, the smiley hippies and the brooding fashionistas in the street. For a second I almost felt relevant. #zeitgeistyeah?

The thought process I had walking down Brick Lane went something like:

That’s cool.

That’s pretentious.

Cool.

Pretentious.

Pretentious and cool.

Tut. Pretentious.

What the hell is that?!

Oh, that’s quite cool actually.

I’m hungry.

Oh look, there’s We Are Scientists.

I spotted the trio walking past the pub we were sat outside and pointed them out to Pete and Greg who immediately legged it after them to hi-five and tell them we were due to play their song, The Great Escape, that very night.

I had to watch Pete and Greg’s bags so didn’t get the chance to meet them, but from 20 yards away or so, they came across as lovely chaps.

It’s probably best I didn’t actually get to meet them as I would have more than likely attempted to say something funny to the effect of; our version of their song being better than the original, it not going down as well as intended and I would have been left to bite my fist in embarrassment so hard I wouldn’t have been able to pull off any sweet solos.

And pull off sweet solos I did, along with my three other rebellious comrades, we smashed Cargo for Greg, Laura and their lovely guests. We know we smashed it because there was a stage invasion for our finale of Foals’ Inhaler.

For those not versed in the axioms of rock and roll, the simple equation of;

Stage Invasion = Smashed It

…can be applied. And if equations get your goat, then try;

Stage Invasion + Confetti Cannon = an incredibly, spectacularly awesome night that we will remember for as long as everyone we shared it with will.

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