I dreamt about Interpol last night.
This is not a once-off occurence, mind you. I've dreamt before that they were playing on the lawns at Uni and I was the only person who realised quite what was going on.
But last night somehow I found myself backstage, and there were three doors in a corridor - the first was Paul's, the second Carlos' and the third Sam's (don't ask where Daniel was). I knew I would be kicked out of there any minute, so I decided to go into journalist mode - it was now or never, right?
So I knocked on Sam's door - I think he would be least intimidating of the three - and asked for an interview. He didn't open the door, and politely told me he wasn't interested. No, really, there were no expletivesor anything involved, he was quite nice about it.
Paul was next, and he opened the door to me but also said that it wasn't a good time. Not nastily, just politely but firmly.
My attempt on Carlos was the last, and I was so scared. He opened the door and I said 'hey, I'm Steph, I was just wondering if I couldn do an interview with you?'. He considered it for a moment and was about to say yes, but then like the other two, politely turned me down. The one thing I noticed about his room was that all of his clothes - and there was a lot of them - were folded and arranged immaculately on his shelves. It was really weird, the room was perfectly in order. Much like his persona I guess.
So somewhat dejected (but really, what did I expect) I made my way to the end of the corridor and pressed the button for the lift. As I was waiting, Paul came out of his room and joined the wait. I can't remember much about what he was wearing, but he was sharply dressed as usual, and wearing a scarf.
Paul and I got into the lift and I literally shook the whole way down to the ground, I was so nervous and was having trouble breathing properly (drama queen or what?!). But honestly, what would you do if you found yourself in a lift, in a small confined space, with none other than Paul Banks? We didn't say a word to each other, and I think he was quietly trying to pretend that I wasn't so visibly uncomfortable.
Safe to say I practically ran out of the lift, but coincidentally Paul was going to the same bookstore that I was headed to and followed me the whole way there. I nervously flitted around the store trying to avoid him, although I actually went there to go to the art section where he was. So I built up the courage to go and look at the art books, and I'm a little vague about what happened next, but it involved the lyrics to Stella Was A Diver And She Was Always Down and him agreeing to hang out with me for the afternoon. So it looks like I ended up getting my interview then, hey?
Aside from this farfetched dream, I have discovered that one of the simple pleasures in life is having Obstacle 1 surprise you in a playlist.
And speaking of pleasures, simple or perhaps, 'unknown', I went to see a Joy Division doco last Friday. It was good, the interviews were definitely insightful. They talked a lot about the band's album artwork, including the amazing 'Unknown Pleasures'.
The band members said that looking back, they can see in Ian Curtis' lyrics that things weren't right, but still they had no idea about what was going to happen. Like with Control, I walked out of the film feeling awkward, empty and drained.
It's weird. I know exactly what is going to happen, I know what to expect. But I still feel the same way every time I see/hear/read the story told in such an intimate and detailed way.
I wonder what his daughter, Natalie, is doing?