I decided a long time ago writing about music wasn’t for me. I last gave it a go for some university paper many years ago and didn’t get much further than comparing everything to The Libertines or Interpol.

But a few nights back I saw London-Southampton outfit Pale Seas on top of a roof in Hackney Central and bloody hell. I was a little bit resentful of the fact I’d given up so easily, as I’d be far better equipped to describe what a pleasant night they laid on for everyone else fortunate to be in the right place at the right time.

I support my friends and their bands as often as I can, but in most cases it’s just that. Turning up, paying my fiver, giving my mate on keyboards the thumbs up during the acoustic number, thanking the guy who might’ve been the bassist for a nice evening and then sharing the photo of their hand scrawled tracklist on their Facebook page. Maybe even reminding them of my handy work with a Korg Kaosillator for next time.

But with these guys, who I’d only just stumbled across after a series of flat viewings in the area, it felt like I was the lucky one, being part of this intimate gig where music was played that I’ve always liked the idea of but never got the chance to know properly. Akin to my relationship with uncle Keith.

And like my uncle Keith at Easter, I felt I could’ve sat and watched them until the setting sun in the west rose again in the east. Their tunes danced wildly in the light summer breeze (bit like Interpol really).

They also just looked the part. No, I can do better than that. Their look was not bound by any third-party variable.  Perhaps the one essential charm if you want to live in harmony with the light demands of dreampop.  They just looked genuinely sincere. Though I couldn’t help thinking they’d make the work of a studio looking to cast a remake of The Young Ones incredibly easy.

On the train back to the zone 4 suburb I’m currently exiled to while my flat hunt continues, I flicked through Spotify and found Something Or Nothing. The 16% I had left on my phone battery afforded me another Pale Seas songs and an email to a landlord about a flat 2 minute walk from Nettle House.

Thursday nights work for me.