This is the story of how what should have been a disaster ended up being a fairly awesome day. Those are the best days, aren't they?

Last week, Twin Atlantic posted about taking part in the London edition of the Build Series. To be fair, I wasn't familiar with the Build Series and I still couldn't give you a whole lot of details now. It's just this quite cool series of interviews of bands, singers, actors... and then there's a little bit of a Q&A. I didn't know about any of that and I thought it would be a good idea to apply for a ticket as I had the day off work.
So, I did.
And the first time round, my application got denied because of the "overwhelming demand".
So, I tried again.
Obviously I tried again.
That's what happens when your default mode is "rise or die trying", even for tiny, every day things.


Then, on Tuesday morning, I took the train from Brighton and spent my journey reading, not really minding the world around me, until I noticed the portion between East Croydon and Blackfriars was taking an awful amount of time. I naturally blamed it on the Thameslink and (any frequent Thameslink user will know what I'm talking about) the weirdly slow moment when you get into London, but this was becoming worrying and I had less than an hour to make it to the studios.
Turns out a road vehicle was on the rails.
As you do.
I jumped off the train at Blackfriars and powerwalked around the tube, got out at Goodge Street and saw someone I suspected was going the same way I did. He started running in the street and I started panicking I would be late and turned down at the door.
And when I got there there was still a little queue in front of the door and the aforementioned "overwhelming demand" consisted in about fifteen people. I was, myself, number fifteen, according to the sticker that made its way to my jumper.


There was a little more waiting (so much for the "you'll be kicked out if you don't turn up on time"), a man that stormed in the studios asking if "Harry Potter was still here" (as Daniel Radcliffe was featured in the morning's recording, that's right, your girl could have met Harry Potter) and then here we went, inside.
The man in charge opened the door and showed me and another girl to our seats.
At the front.
And when I say at the front, I don't mean that I had a slight possibility of hiding. I was at the front, pretty much in the middle, and the seats next to me were reserved to Mark and Stuart from Twin Atlantic's management.
Panic starting running through me and I turned a colour that was probably just as bright as the fuchsia chair I was sat on. Applying to be in the audience of a live recording with one of your favourite bands is all fun and games until you realise there's a recording process involving cameras included. See, I've always hated cameras and microphones and the like. It started when I was ten and we went on a field trip at school and I made the foolish mistake of letting my teacher interview me. Back at school, we watched the edited video and I had to hear myself speaking, and, sixteen years later, I'm still scarred by the horror I felt at the sound of my own recorded voice. The tape of my school trip to Spain when I was fifteen is just me hiding behind people, poles, trees and my own arms like I am Justin Bieber being chased by the paps.
Last Tuesday, I was literally front row to one of my biggest fears and to one of the things that makes me most uncomfortable.





I couldn't exactly bail and I kinda wanted to use the whole thing as a chance to attend a live interview and meet Twin Atlantic, so I stayed, feeling extremely sick and trying to pretend I wasn't. When the man with the American accent said they wanted to encourage us to tweet and post pictures online, I took this as my cue to ask if they had any wifi so I could concentrate on something that wasn't the three men and their gigantic cameras.
I forgot to mention that the soundtrack was just GLA on loop, so I clearly had no chance to escape how uncomfortable the whole situation was for me - or escape anything else, for that matter.
Someone came near me and took the papers that said that the seats next to me were reserved to the aforementioned Mark and Stuart away, and then asked the people behind me to move up a little bit. I didn't know them - it was the guy who I'd seen running in the street and someone I'd never seen before - but I still turned around and begged them not to leave me alone.
And they didn't.
I was still front row to one of my biggest fears but at least, I wasn't alone in this. (Did I just make attending a recording thing emo? Of course I did)


The man in the American accent did a whole lot of build up when he introduced them, trying to get us to cheer and clap and be loud, saying that "come on, they've released a song called No Sleep", but as much as I love them, Twin Atlantic are no One Direction and sadly for the man in the American accent, there was no screaming and just loud, yet polite claps. (I mean, they all have a lot of fans, but, you know, there's no one out there saying they wished they were diabetic because one of the members is or something. We're all fairly polite, even when dedicated)
And then next thing I knew Twin Atlantic came in.
I thought I was going to feel even more uncomfortable and for about two minutes, I feel like I was trying to morph into the chair and disappear in its fuchsia mass, but the thing is, Twin Atlantic are extremely funny, and concentrating on what they were saying, surprisingly, calmed me down. Who would have thought looking at Sam McTrusty's face and avidly listening to him would calm me down, not me, but hey, you learn something new every day.
(One thing I wish, though, is that the part of me who is extremely partial to Sam McTrusty's face would shut up. You can't always get what you want, they say)


The interview was mostly about the process that went behind GLA, and even though it was the usual questions, really, I found it interesting. I really do like the album and I love the thought process behind it and how straightforward it is.
I've always been terrible at putting into words how much I love music and how much I love hearing about a band's journey to making an album - especially one I love just as much as I love GLA.
The GLA era, though, promises to go along those lines :


A whole lot of emphasis was put on the fact that Twin Atlantic are very much from Scotland, I mean if the fact that their album is named after their hometown of Glasgow isn't enough, just listen to them speak, they are the poster boys for Scotland. I mean at this rate, tomorrow we're forgetting the flag and putting Twin Atlantic posters up instead.
So there was a whole lot of talk about their Scottish accents.
And then very random questions about them potentially being rockstars, and Sam McTrusty's answer to that possibly sums up
a) my current professional path
and
b) what would happen if I was in a band :
"Oh we've smashed things, but... by accident. Like, mugs"
I still have a feeling the interviewer was expecting stories of televisions being thrown out of windows and mattresses being set on fire as someone does coke in the bathroom, but no, Twin Atlantic probably only accidentally destroy mugs in their Travelodge rooms. They're not exactly Motley Crue, sorry pal.
There was joking about one day waking up to a collaboration with David Guetta and strangely I would totally sign up for this (but at the same time, not really).
There was talking about Reading 2015 being so good Sam vomited after going off stage, because "great stories always start with vomiting". (He's quite the dreamboat, isn't he).
And then questions from the floor, suggestions of using your student loan to start a band, and that was pretty much it.


Then we all stuck around to actually meet Twin Atlantic, and that's when I started being uncomfortable again.
Usually, you know, I'm pretty chill talking to bands. I mean, we're all human after all. (Sorry, the pun is awful but was also too tempting to let go).
I also decided that if one day I managed to have a conversation with Jim Adkins without forgetting how to do the talking thing, I can pretty much chat to anyone.
And then I forgot how to talk in front of Sam and Ross. Obviously.
I should have seen that one coming.
I had planned on saying that I had seen them in Kingston the week before and that I would probably see them on their upcoming tour, and for some reason all the words got stuck in my throat and my vocal chords decided to throw themselves in the bin, alongside my phone, who had decided to die in my hands as I walked to the band.
I also tripped on the spotlight at the bottom of the little stage. (I'm also quite the dreamboat)

(I look like a hamster on this)

If it had been just me, myself and I, I would have found myself a nice museum to hang out in and then would have gone home quietly.
The thing is, me and my big mouth (as long as Twin Atlantic themselves aren't involved, that is) started talking to someone I'd seen at several Xcerts shows, and then we talked to other people outside, and then we went to the British Museum together.
I didn't expect it, and I think that's quite cool. There's not much I like more than meeting people who like the same music I do and exchanging stories about seeing the bands we love or how we feel towards them. There's also not many places on Earth I like more than museums - I'm a little bit of an art nerd. Combining the two together was like my birthday and Christmas rolled into one.


What should have been a disaster waiting to happen turned out to be a fairly surprising and amazing day. I should probably not encourage myself to sign up for ridiculous things that make me question the decisions I make, but we all know I will carry on doing so. Of course I am.