Dear Diary: NME Awards 2014

This blog is kind of a diary (note to self: locate and delete Live Journal account) so I'm just going to make some notes for my own amusement really, rather than having any kind of intelligent input on this. It was car-crashy and incredible, a world that I'm somehow part of and excluded from at the same time. I've never been to the NME Awards and at 6pm last night I got an invite. Of course I went.

I was hanging around waiting to get in when Haim arrived to sign pictures, get papped and do their red carpet interviews. It's insane how pushy the autograph collectors are, aggressively shouting their names yet clearly ruthlessly and unpassionate about who they're getting to sign stuff - the girls sign their own images on a stuffed folder full of glossy pictures of all the stars arriving tonight. The real fans, if they're lucky, get a crappy obscured phone pic from the back.

The celebrities and nominees all get tables downstairs with the Very Important People, while readers, comp winners, ticket buyers (?) and sponors are in the upper circle. Things - eventually - got off to a great start with METRONOBABES. This was the first (and best) live act, and then Jarvis Cocker comes on to present an award. If the whole night was like this, it was going to be amazing.

Oof, it sounded much better on the night. And that was the highlight of the evening. I started compiling a Buzzfeed-style TOP TEN CRINGIEST MOMENTS in my head, but obviously I've forgotten them all. Some edited highlights:

* Fat White Family - what the hell was that, an introduction, an acceptance speech, the english language?

* Belle & Sebastian getting people onstage to "boogie". In a way, you've got to respect some shameless mum-n-dad-dancing, but it was painful to watch.

* Host Huw Stephens, bravely and gallantly filling time by going into the celeb filled tables and trying to conduct mini interviews. First woman he encounters, "so who's table are you sat at?" "Dunno" "So you just blagged it?" "...".

* Damon Albarn completely glossing over the existence of Melody Maker.

* PAUL MCCARTNEY. Get a grip people. The picture I've taken above is of everyone simultaneously standing up and taking pictures.

Pretty sure there were a few other points where I was murmuring no no no no... I can't even begin to expand on my growing hatred of Alex Turner, so will try being nice about someone else. Blondie headlined. Lily Allen was funny, and was by far the best at capturing the whole eyerolling self indulgence of the whole thing.

As I left, Jerry Hall (like an elegant giraffe) lollopped into a taxi. One solitary papparrazzi captured her departure into the night.