I’ve been a fan of Airbourne for just short of a year, having been introduced to their anthemic Runnin’ Wild whilst playing Rock Band. It’s typical of pretty much every song in their repertoire – hammering drums, screaming guitars, and lyrics spat forth with relentless pace.
Elegant, Airbourne are not, but they deliver pure, distilled Rock ‘n’ Roll in the mould of AC/DC with the kind of drive and conviction that leaves the impression they’d never walk off stage anything less than completely spent.
I’m just back from another stint in London, staying down for a whole week – from Wednesday to Wednesday. It’s good to be back in (almost equally) familiar surroundings, although I was home so late that I didn’t get to see Elisha properly – she was snoozing away when I got in.
At the office down there, work was pretty hard going, with lots of frustrations that led to working later than planned every night. I’d even planned to make a couple of trips to the office over the weekend just to keep some processes running and keep the momentum going, but that came to nothing when I didn’t have the required support.
Still, the weekend wasn’t a total waste – I got to take in the R.E.M. concert at Twickenham after Mike lost, then found the tickets at the eleventh hour. Quite literally, actually – he only called at 11am on the day to say he’d discovered them wedged between some CD cases. Up until that point I’d shrugged off the fact that he lost them, almost convincing myself I wasn’t that bothered, but I was so delighted when he found them!