Martin Dust

Techno Zen Master
The fish tank, the shops, the hole, the tramps, how space age it felt....
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You?
 

mistersloane

heavy heavy monster sound
The fish tank, the shops, the hole, the tramps, how space age it felt....
sheffield_hole_in_the_road.jpg



You?

that's weird, i thought that pic for a second was the bullring in waterloo, similar, no shops though, it was where everyone who was homeless was in london, gone now n all.
 

nomos

Administrator
my grandparents' house on my dad's side in winnipeg. it was the only house that remained constant while i was growing up. i had an experience once, when deeply lost in thought, where i was suddenly back there in my mind and able to explore it intimately. i could look in every room and corner, including the little spaces i explored when i was small. remembering paint, carpet and linoleum patterns, i the sounds of doors, closets and drawers, as well as how they moved. the feeling of being along in the basement and all the curious things that drew me down their on my own (russian records, a tube shortwave, curious things in the pantry). smells: potato pancakes on the counter, mushrooms drying in the oven, russian food being made, dill by the side of the house, crab apples, sneaking raspberries, tomato plants wafting in the basement bathroom window, pickled things, mothballs, soaps, the garage, the fridge, the drawer where loose tobacco was kept. it was like a storehouse of sensual memory had briefly opened in my brain. it was really powerful.
 
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Freakaholic

not just an addiction
I really disliked LA the one year i lived there, but hte one place i enjoyed was Griffith park.

while its not gone, it is burning:

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Ive been back in Chicago for 4 years now, and id say that park and Topanga Canyon are about the only places there that I miss (now that Chicago has El Pollo Loco!).
 

mos dan

fact music
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Sevilla, Spain.

Lived there for four months in 2005. Came back. Failed to ever quite recover. The lifestyle, the locals, the atmosphere, the architecture, the nightlife, the food, the weather... what the hell am I doing here again?

The worst thing is someone had written in the fresh concrete on this one side-street by the park 'be where you want to be'. I know it's trite and sounds like something out of an airport novel, but it really did say that, and I do still think about it longingly.
 

nomos

Administrator
Long Beach, Tofino, BC

Rain forest on the edge of Clayoquot Sound on the West coast of Vancouver Island. Unlike Vancouver and Victoria, it gets no protection from the Pacific so waves, winds and rain can be wild.

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Ancient trees, vast sand beaches. When the tide is out, it leaves behind towering rock-islands topped with trees and wrapped in in star fish, anemones, and mussels. Some are close together, creating slippery hallways to explore. I was only there for a foggy day and night in 1996. Quite magical :)
 
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Mr. Tea

Shub-Niggurath, Please
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Grew up there between '86 and '99. Lovely place, and now my parents have bloody well moved to France! Bastards.*





*just kidding, if you're reading this!
 

sodiumnightlife

Sweet Virginia
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I miss the house i lived in from ages 0-6. was the nicest house in the nciest place i ever lived. woulda been shit to grow up in as a teenager though, glad i moved to scotland.

I also miss vancouver island, i've got family in Saanichton and i've been a fair few times, there's so many beautiful bits up round there.
 

martin

----
I miss High St Kensington Market. Good place to go and pick up weird cheap books, mags and records and meet loads of bored goth girls. OK, so you could hardly move, the place stank of joss sticks and every 6th stall was some Indian bloke selling 'ANARCHY' or 'FUCK THE POPE' T-shirts, but it was a nice place to waste a Saturday afternoon. The hairdressers were all on acid, by the way.
 

Grievous Angel

Beast of Burden
Acklam Hall, Hammersmith.

A fantastic little venue that was hidden away in a west London nook. I saw loads of bands there, most memorably Big Black and Head of David.

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Can't even find a picture of it now.
 

STN

sou'wester
I miss High St Kensington Market. Good place to go and pick up weird cheap books, mags and records and meet loads of bored goth girls. OK, so you could hardly move, the place stank of joss sticks and every 6th stall was some Indian bloke selling 'ANARCHY' or 'FUCK THE POPE' T-shirts, but it was a nice place to waste a Saturday afternoon. The hairdressers were all on acid, by the way.

God I miss that place too, even though it's almost single-handedly responsible for me looking like a complete tit for four years straight (bondage trousers, anyone?). One of the hairdressers was called Children of Vision, what was the other one called?

I also miss Gossips in Soho and a barmy little pub in Bristol called The Portcullis, which is still there, but I never get to go to it. I also really miss Earl's sandwich shop on Southampton Buildings.
 

Lichen

Well-known member
RIP Phene Arms

A proper Chelsea pub populated by fallen upper-class types, jobbing actors, booze-wracked ex-footballers, heroic, unrepentant boozers of every hue and a man called Ron. ;)

Turned into battleship grey gastro horror and then fell victim to property developers.
 
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I used to live about 1 minute's walk from this photo in the Mission District of SF. I was really unhappy in a lot of ways but I miss the sunshine and somekind of feeling I got there. I suppose I was unhappily in love.....
A year later the internet kicked off and the dotcom yuppies moved in, rent skyrocketed and the whole character of the place changed for the worse.
I used to like walking around the Mission, there were weird Mexican comic shops, good cheap Taquerias, amazing murals and graf, little record shops etc.
 

Mr. Tea

Shub-Niggurath, Please
A proper Chelsea pub populated by fallen upper-class types, jobbing actors, booze-wracked ex-footballers, heroic, unrepentant boozers of every hue and a man called Ron. ;)

Turned into battleship grey gastro horror and then fell victim to property developers.

Bah. The way pubs get treated in this country is a crime against humanity.
Fucking greedy breweries, soulless developers, idiots who'd rather drink pissy lager out of a plastic cup while some clueless cunt 'drops tunes' so loud you can't hear yourself think, or pay ten quid for a poncey burger in a wanky bar with less personality than a Starbucks, than actually go to a real *pub*...

*grumble grumble grumble*
 
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The other day I went to the dogs at Walthamstow and on the spur of the moment I ordered a bitter instead of a lager.
It was a revelation. Never again will I drink that fizzy shit. (maybe)
is this the onset of middle age?
or nostalgia for sipping my dads pint in the 70s?
 
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