Surf Cassette ‘Summer’s End’

Last night I was waiting for my train, as I do most evenings. This is my most loathed part of my day, even more than the moment my alarm goes off (maybe). At Marylebone they have a few departures boards posted throughout the station, and crowds slowly form around these, waiting for their platform. As soon as the platform is announced, all semblance of respectability goes out the window, and everyone rushes to the train in the hope of getting a seat. This is the part I hate the most. I hate the suits who stride down the platform, swinging their briefcases about – they always get to the train first. I hate the old ladies with deceptively sharp elbows to jab you with as they muscle their way in – second on. Then I hate the middle class yuppies who commute in from Beaconsfield, whose shrill clipped tones reverberate around the cavernous station platform. Next, the out-of-towners, shaking their head in disbelief and muttering about the busyness of London and how they ‘couldn’t possibly commute in everyday, it’s tantamount to torture’. Lastly, there’s me, and it’s me that I hate most of all…because I’m part of it too. I’m doing that half walk-half run with all the other nobheads, because after a long day at work, nothing seems more important than getting a seat on the 30 minute train home. What have I let myself become? All the horror that is to befall me on my journey home tonight seems so far away, now that the sun is shining and London seems to be enjoying a last hurrah of summer. For that reason, I’m currently listening to Surf Cassette’s ‘Summer’s End‘, a jubilant piece of indie rock from the Milan garage-pop trio, with bright electric guitars, fuzzy drums, and laidback surfer vocals. Enjoy.