I retrieved everything from the storage locker with the assistance of a man and van (from Relōku once again). It was made easier by the fact that I had replaced a lot of the flimsy boxes with proper 55 litre storage crates – they’re much easier to carry, they’re rigid, and they stack even when partially full. After everything is unpacked I’m going to use them for storage in the loft.

As I left, I considered whether to lock the unit up again, but decided to leave it unlocked so that I wouldn’t have to come back in person. About half an hour later, I received an aggrieved-sounding (but probably automated) email:

We are sorry to see that your storage unit XXXX has been vacated without giving any prior notification.

If you wish to move out permanently, we kindly remind you that notice should be given at least 15 days prior to the monthly anniversary date of the storage agreement in accordance with the General Terms & Conditions of your storage contract.

If we do not hear from you in the next 24 hours, your contract will end on 27 July 2024 and until this day rent is due.

This would have been fine: it was 9 July, and I intended to give notice with more than 15 days to go. But another email followed immediately. This one was more final and more conciliatory:

We are writing to confirm that your contract with Shurgard for the storage unit number XXXX at Shurgard Deptford has now ended.

We thank you for your custom, and if you need storage again in the future, please do not hesitate to contact us.

I suppose the lesson is, don’t leave an empty unit unlocked, because they’ll take it away immediately! In my case, that was fine, but it could be an unpleasant surprise otherwise.

I’ve been very happy with the Shurgard storage in Deptford. The prices were reasonable (especially if, as I did, you buy insurance separately instead of letting them bolt it on each month), it seems well run, and it was conveniently close to home.

I found a good haul of second-hand furniture at Vintique in Peckham, including a perfectly sized dining table to use in the kitchen, chairs, and a mid-century modern sideboard that fits our living room exacty. They cost less than the new items we’d been considering, and it’s a bit less wasteful too.

I had a weekend full of music, starting with Oren Ambarchi and Félicia Atkinson on Friday evening at St John’s Church in Waterloo. That made two gigs in churches on consecutive weekends – both churches with murals by Hans Feibusch – but very different in content. Félicia Atkinson’s performance was a little more recognisably conventional, while Oren Ambarchi nominally played guitar, but in reality played effects pedals, with the guitar relegated to a source of sounds to be filtered, delayed, and transmuted into completely different tones.

A church altar beneath a painting. In front is a huge speaker cabinet and amplifier and a man sitting at a table

Oren Ambarchi playing effects pedals with one hand and a guitar with the other

A table with a mixer, ten effects pedals, and a rat's nest of cables. Behind it is a guitar on a chair.

Oren Ambarchi’s equipment table

On Saturday, I saw Nils Frahm at the Barbican via a spare ticket (thanks Chris). The highlight for me was the piece on glass armonica and pump organ with which he opened the performance. Most of the set relied heavily on delays and loops. That allows a single performer to build up a complex layered piece, but it also has limitations: it’s not possible to modulate or even to significantly change the chord being played.

A stage with two adjacent C-shaped arrangements of mainly keyboard instruments and an enormous mixing desk. The setup is larger than the average domestic living room.

Nils Frahm surrounded by keyboards

On Sunday I paid a brief visit to Iklectika. I browsed the fair and chatted with stallholders, and enjoyed a mesmeric and relaxing performance by Fia Fell. I came away with three interesting CDs, which I can’t listen to until I dig out something to play them with!

Recent events reminded me of one of the most peculiarly-named conflicts of the 18th century, The War of Jenkins’ Ear:

The incident that gave the War of Jenkins’ Ear its name occurred in 1731, when a Spanish coastguard commander mutilated the captain of a British privateer suspected of smuggling in the Caribbean. Jenkins’ severed appendage was preserved in a bottle and presented to King George II of Britain as proof of Spanish barbarity. The ensuing conflict lasted from 1739 to 1742.

This week’s links: