spitz = spatz.

the spitz is one of those london institutions that you cannot avoid. the venue itself is hotter than hades, even in the dead of winter, and no civilised person should be forced to watch music in such conditions. and yet, there I have been a zillion times, watching many bands, over and over, or more likely sitting in the outdoor café avoiding the upstairs heat or the lame opening act. the food is prohibitively expensive and mediocre. there is always one bartender with whom no one can make eye contact because there are 30 people waiting to get his attention. still, I have had an odd fondness for the silly place because of its location in my old neighbourhood of spitalfields in the old spitalfields market, which is slowly and sadly melting away, so that new chain stores can be opened up in a vast shopping centre for yuppie city workers who probably commute in every day from tunbridge wells. anyway, the spitz is dying, or at the very least relocating (from the looks of it, being paid off to relocate) so you might want to go there one last time and sweat your head off while watching a band this summer.