I am loving the Delays; their Seeing Colours album was the soundtrack to my 2006 and still gets a well deserved crank up from time to time giving a welcome comforting elation – a bit like an old cardigan, but much much better and a less saggy. The unacquainted will recognise the melodic jingles from BBC background music and adverts of recent years, you know, the kind where you say “who is that? I like that tune, lets Google it.” Well, I saved the you trouble – it’s these guys. Southampton’s Indie dance popsters blessed us with a new release “Everything’s the Rush” this month so I will am currently getting my listening gear around that with resounding approval, and it would seem their little transition to Fiction from a sojourn at Rough Trade has not harmed their inimitable style one bit. A tour of the UK in May leads the boys up to their festival appearances at O2 Wireless, T in the Park and V. Pop on down to Koko before it becomes impossible to see them. / Jo Gifford

It was only a matter of time before the ‘Ditch, formally known as the new Camden, would generate its own festival-style bar crawl to match its North London predecessor (the aptly named Camden Crawl). So here it is, Stag and Dagger, Shoreditch’s first ‘original music and arts festival’ that promises 100 live new acts, DJs, art shows and film screenings in London’s ‘creative entertainment hotspot’. And a creative, entertaining spot of heat it really is. Favela Chic, Vibe Bar and the Electricity Showrooms are just some of the venues showcasing bands from the Hot Chip DJs to Crispin Dior and Kid Harpoon. Even with this feast of up-and-coming talent aside, Stag and Dagger begs a venture for the atmosphere, the booze, the culture scene and the free wristband (to add to the rest acquired over the summer). So whether you’re a music groupie or a culture junkie, or simply a drunkard with a penchant for funky bars in funkier locations, get your tickets now. This promises to be good. Very good. / Sarah-Jayne Boyd

Is it just two years? Volupte’s house of cabaret, dancing and rather fine food seems like such a staple of the scene that it’s easy to forget that, just 25 months ago, it didn’t exist at all (and we were all still googling ‘burlesque’, a little unsure of exactly what it meant). But what if you’ve never been, never sampled the delights of swing music as you dine, dancing girls while you drink? Well, for one night only, on their second birthday, Volupte are bringing you a kind of edited highlights show. Five hours of the best acts they’ve booked over the years, mounds of canapes, champagne and general over-the-top glamour. The playlist runs from the twenties to the seventies, so choose your decade, dress yourself up, and get yourself down there. / Dresden Grief

What were they thinking? There was no way a solitary little gig at the tiny 100 Club on Oxford Street would be big enough to hold the swelling number of Black Lips fans currently residing in London. Their 2007 album Good Bad Not Evil earned them a legion of new followers (me included) and luckily for you they have added this date at Kings College to their UK tour. The band originate from Georgia, Atlanta with influences from blues, country and punk. They also have a reputation for live shows which include the following bodily fluids: saliva, vomit and urine. All good fun although I doubt many people will be rushing to the front row for this one. / Edward Field

In all honesty, my birthday this year was a bit of a let-down. Granted, the venue was crowded, the host immaculate, but the guests left much to be desired. Great news for the likes of me then: the third Friday of every month at Bethnal Green Working Men’s Club shall now offer a chance to have a better birthday with a night debuting this Friday. Dress code is “bowties & short trousers for boys, party dresses for girls, clowns, ventriloquists dummies, mums in aprons, dads in jumpers” and the best dressed will get prioritised entry. Whether or not that includes turning up in your birthday suit remains to be seen, but a certain amount of nudity is to be expected, as it’s from the people who brought you Grind-A-Go-Go and the Hellfire Club. If it’s anything like as popular as their previous efforts it’s likely to get rammed before 11, so arrive before then, and make sure you’re dressed to the nines because the door folks at BGWMC are a bit strict about that sort of thing sometimes. / Tom Medwell

Ah the independent record shop. The years I’ve wasted there. Days spent idly flicking through stuff I couldn’t afford, reading fanzines surreptitiously without paying, and hoping that I’d get that approving nod, rather than the knowing smirk from the assistant when I finally made my choice (at sixteen I honestly thought that record-shop assistants were the most powerful creatures on earth). But they are dying out, replaced by faceless superstores keener on flogging you Grand Theft Auto than an album, and by ‘Amazon recommends’. So it’s with mixed feelings that we recommend this exhibition of photos of these independent shops captured in all their nerdy glory – yes, it’s a wonderful (and free) record of some of the city’s best music emporia, but what a shame that we need a record at all. / Peter Dark

Picture the scene. It’s Friday afternoon, you’ve finished work but the bus or tube home is going to be giving you flashbacks of that time you got locked in the sauna overnight, the weather is beautiful and goddamnit it’s the weekend, you deserve ice-cream. So, head down to Trafalgar Square, get yourself that ice-cream, and then Do Some Art. Ah! you sitting, comfortably are a performance two-piece consisting of a baritone and clarinetist who perform storytelling narratives. Why is this interesting? Well, Friday sees them doing a free performance at the NPG, and as well as five other pieces will be the world premier of Adam de le Cour’s Verscharfte Vernehmung/Cowboy George, which features the vocalist being put in Abu Ghraib stress positions, hood, pants, barking like a dog, and singing cowboy songs. Picture it in your head. Now, picture it in your head with added American Tourists who have wandered in for some Euro Culture. A great start to the weekend, and look, you had ice cream. Be happy. / Tom Medwell

It’s Friday. Would you rather: A) shoot the breeze at a bar with your work peeps, slagging the ins and outs of the office with a vigour you’ve yet to apply to your job; B) go home to consume a plastic wrapped dinner for one with the remote control firmly affixed to your hand; or C) mix up the week a bit and head to a private members club to down a free cocktail, eat some canapés, see some live art, watch some impromptu theatre, dance to DJs and mingle with some likeminded creative folk at the first Mesh Create hosted by the nice people at MESH. Trick question innit? A and B are not real options, and to prove it, we’ve got 20 free invites to give away for you to attend. All you need to do is email for a chance to do so. Don’t worry, you can thank us at the bar… / Sarah-Jayne

“If you only have time for one walking tour, this is the one to go on.” At least that’s what it says in the leaflet I picked up last week, and I suppose they’ve pretty much hit the proverbial nail right between the proverbial shoulders. Despite being the only city to employ a former ‘Upper Class Twit of the Year’ as Mayor, it’s difficult not to agree that London is one of the world’s great capitals. Whatever your ‘bag’, there’s an embarrassment of cultural riches that would keep any number of online magazines up late at night – the trick is to work out a way of getting round them all. Personally I’m struggling to think of a better way to appreciate the home of Dickens, Shakespeare et al. than taking the ‘Along the Thames Pub Walk’ on a warm summer’s eve. “Two beers, or not two beers: that is the question.”

/ Sam Hudson

“It’s actually pretty easy to arrange a conference.” So says Ben Hammersley, erstwhile le cool photographer, war correspondent and all-round good egg. Interested in trying to work out how we can use technology to stop us from actually destroying four-and-a-half-billion years’ worth of planet in a generation or so, rather than just discussing it down the pub, he’s invited a bunch of likely types to come duke it out down at the lovely Conway Hall. Who’s going to be speaking? Well, designers, various technologists, artists, architects and even an explorer or two. Basically anyone who combines green cred with geek chic and a passion for changing the world. They’re a social bunch so expect the after-conference drinks to be as much fun as the talking beforehand. Highly recommended. / Peter Dark

The football season is drawing to a close and what with England’s dismal attempt to qualify for the Euros it looks as though some of us may need something new to entertain us this summer. Something a bit more cultured. Step forward then, the Nabokov Arts club – a new theatre, comedy and music centre located within a Victorian warehouse in the heart of Shoreditch. The opening night this Saturday is packed full of all things highbrow. There are 2 short plays by Patrick Marber and Che Walker, poetry by Polar Bear and Scroobius Pip, plus comedy from Simon Brodkin. The whole evening is compared by rising star of alternative stand-up poetry Luke Wright with live bands and DJ’s playing long into the night. The first of many nights to come. / Edward Field

It’s been time since I spent a Saturday night boozing it up at (and falling out of) Montreal’s Blue Dog. Them days when ample $9 pitchers of Quebecois microbrewery lager sparked 24-hour romances and 4-day hangovers. Now it’s more like $9 pints in London, slightly lengthier romances and 4-day hangovers with less time to recover. Well tempus fugit man. The common factor this weekend is that the soundtrack to those Saturdays will remain the same as hip-hop-mega-mashup-superstars Team Canada DJs descend upon the Capital for the final Thugs and Hugs in Old St. Grandtheft and D.R.one, (who’ve played with the likes of Aoki and DJAM) bring wacky wares from the poutine-pressed streets of MTL and promise to rock this party right. With Patchwork Pirates there to drink Jagermeister with, and visuals from the ever-charming/hyper-talented Karborn, you know it’s so necessary. /  

Have you seen Andy Warhol’s portrait of The Queen or Lowry’s Lancashire Fair? Course you haven’t – they’re tucked away in a government department somewhere. Or are they? This weekend offers a chance to see these, and other rarely seen works by acclaimed artists, when the Department for Culture, Media and Sport opens the doors to the vault that holds the Government Art Collection. Check out the free tours of the small selection of works of British art in a variety of media, dating from the mid-seventeen century to the present day. The works are usually exhibited in government buildings and embassies around the world to promote British Culture, history and creativity, and make up a 13,000-strong collection. Early booking is essential so please do email GAC to book your place. If you don’t get invited to a tour this weekend don’t be disappointed – there will be further tours arranged in the following weeks for those who are still interested. / Sophie Khan

Ok, so it might be perpetually 1973 in Black Mountain’s universe – it’s a place where you can legitimately mention ‘surfed-out flower trains’ in your lyrics and an eight-minute track is just about enough time to get into the groove – but this is no-Black Crowes-style exercise in replicating their heroes. Instead it’s heavy, swampy, chants, dark mantras and occasional relief from some gorgeous summery acoustica. And, if you can shake of the feeling that after you leave the venue you’ll be returning to a Britain of three-day-weeks and power cuts, Black Mountain gigs can be mesmerising, life-affirming celebrations. If a little long. Well, very long. / Clive Sweeney

Our guide Forrest had a wide and wonky grin. “My teacher gave me this English name because I reminded her of Forrest Gump.” He hadn’t seen the film; I’m hoping he never does. During the three-hour bus journey we exchanged information on our countries. “Do you watch television programmes about China?” he asked. “No, not really,” we said. “Then how do you find out about China, from the internet?” “Oh, yes, a bit, and newspapers . . .”. I felt guilty that I come from a country with every form of media available to me, and yet I had not bothered to use them. This evening the last British governor of Hong Kong, Chris Patten will interview two modern Chinese writers, Ha Jin and Zhu Wen, who explore Chinese society and its contradictions. Don’t let this occasion pass you by. / Delaina Haslam

It’s a pretty damn eclectic line-up for a pretty damn important (if neglected) cause at Bush Hall tonight. Ed Larrikin (ex-Larrikin Love unsurprisingly) is headlining with his wildly inventive new band, The Pan I Am, a heady concoction of spoken word and ramshackle junkyard music. There’s spooky minimalist electronica and sexual confrontation from the always-interesting No Bra, and a slice of urban beats from Sunni-Geini, the South London-based electric / grime / dub collective. And it’s all in aid of What Not To Share, a charity trying to raise awareness and educate about hepatitis. (You might have come across them at the festivals last year, or seen celebrities like Pete Doherty – that’s him on the left – in one of their t-shirts). / Saul Harrison

What the hell is Ghostface on about? No, seriously, with couplets like, “Scotty watty cop it to me, big microphone hippie, Hit Poughkepsie crispy chicken verbs throw up a stone Richie” it’s hard to tell if Ghost Deini is indeed Staten Island’s answer to James Joyce or if he is really heir apparent to Quasimoto’s title of America’s Most Blunted. Whatever the case may be, Ghostface’s rugged individualism and disregard for mainstream trends is refreshing in this day and age of the Horatio Alger hip-hop capitalist. Plus the cat knows music, sampling soul firebrands from The Stylistics to Willie Hutch to create his own unique b-boy bouillabaisse. Ghostface will be joined by his long time partner in rhyme, Raekwon, at Koko where they’ll be performing their epochal record, Only Built for Cuban Linx. And while Ghost and Rae may be dancing in their own self-referential drum circle, the show is guaranteed to leave a lasting impression. / Ryan Mahan

Roxy Music is almost of secondary significance in the life story of Brian Eno, or Brian Peter George St. John le Baptiste de la Salle Eno to give him his full name. Being the beginning it is a good place to start though; with Eno on synths Roxy Music’s first album went to number one. After their second album he left, released four art-rock albums all by himself and then invented ambient music, started a record label that released works by John Cage and Michael Nyman, collaborated with David Bowie and John Cale (from the Velvet Underground), produced albums for Talking Heads, U2, Devo, Ultravox and James. And came up with the original “Microsoft Sound” – what you got when you switched on your computer, way back in the day. So, he’s been a busy chap, and to celebrate his 60th birthday, a bunch of nice folks have gathered round to put on a special night for him – there’ll be a one-off band – Proxy Music – there’ll be special Eno cocktails, and dancing, and fun. / Tom Medwell

Sometimes an event comes along that just pushes all your buttons. I mean I love the stuff the Last Tuesday Society does – their parties are a blast – so whatever they’re up to has my ears pricking. And I love Bistrotheque – if anything could get me moving to the East End it’s the idea that my local might be part cocktail bar, part performance space and part the best little courtyard for Sunday brunch in town. And I have a soft spot for John-Paul Sartre and Simone de Beauvoir. Intellectuals when it really counted for something. Playing merry hell with convention and prudery. Smoking Gitanes down Les Deux Magots. So… the Last Tuesday Society, hosting Carole Seymour Jones talking about the couple, at the Bistrotheque is right up my rue… see you there. / Alison Ordnung

Cryptozoology is the study of spurious or still hidden animals (cryptids), in the same way that cryptography is the search for hidden messages, and solving cryptic crosswords is the source of immense frustration. The Loch Ness Monster, Bigfoot, and dragons are some of the better known cryptids, but the Mongolian deathworm and Mexican goat-sucker (chupacabra) are also the subject of current study and debate. In this talk, two leading cryptozoologists will introduce their field to the public, and afterwards over a free glass of wine, you’ll be able to ask them the important questions, such as: “what ever happened to ALF?”, before heading on a tour of the Grant Museum to see skeletons and pickled animals. Happy hunting! / Justin Toh

You might wonder what the Arsenal goalkeeper is doing playing at the Scala this Tuesday when surely he should be stopping grown men from kicking a ball into a net he’s standing in front of. Anyway, the answer’s nothing – he’s not. Instead Jens Lekman will be playing his refreshingly unique pop to a crowd of people who know a good thing when they hear it. Did I say good? I meant brilliant. Better at telling stories than Belle and Sebastian and with a better command of English than the best part of the inhabitants of this fair isle, Jens’ album Night Falls Over Kortedala will be your Summer ‘08 album, a sort of Now That’s What I Call Scandinavian Pop Volume One, if you like. Who can resist tales of fancying your hairdresser, or cutting your finger whilst making an avocado salad, or having to pose as your lesbian friend’s boyfriend so her Catholic dad doesn’t find out the truth??? Oh my God I love him! I love him! He’s a pop genius! / catrin kemp

OK children! Pinnies on! It’s time for this morning’s first lesson and its . . . Design Technology Cookery! Take the vocals of Salt n Pepa, now imagine them, but singin’ in French, then speeded up in the Kenwood blender. Now lay it gently over some booshing beats and electro pop keytars and filthy baselines. Now add the attitude of Atari Teenage Riot and serve it up with the most 80’s fashion garnish available. (For food I like those little hats that rack of lamb has or in reality, patterned leggings) Yelle is an electro icon, she’s a euro-disco hero and Gay Against You aren’t doing too badly either. Never mind the Persian rugs, when you go to see bands like these there’ll be outbreaks of involuntary smiles all round. Naomi Attwood

If I ran a music press and management type of company, I’d realise just how many good bands I had, and instead of seeing other promoters make a couple of bucks off my talent, or keep all the acts in a cellar I built under my house ‘til they birthed a single or two, I’d start my own night and showcase them. Which is exactly what Scruffy Bird have gone and done (well they actually went and did it a couple of weeks ago as you may well know, but I need an intro). Realising how much talent they had taken under their wing – couldn’t resist, sorry – they’re doing weekly nights at the new Star of Bethnal Green. Tonight’s line-up is a beauty as well; a triple-bill of some very hot new acts indeed. Frenchies John & Jehn kick things off with their ying yang presence, before five men from LA called Iglu & Hartly will unleash their riotous live show and fearsome pop anthems at you (watch out for them on your mixtape to your summer this year), before AA Bondy takes things down a bit with his deep South drawl. Luvverly stuff. / Josh Jones

My name is Eamon and I am a cake-aholic. To be precise, a cheesecake-aholic. My past is a litany of heartbreak, broken relationships and chaos as I have stampeded through the lives of others to satiate this devastating weakness. Constantly on the run, I will occasionally surface at Macondo and indulge in London’s most exquisite offerings of the drug of my choice, and wash them down with the extensive choice of cocktails and coffees. The bleak downward spiralling of my addiction is made wonderfully more palatable in the hip and comfortable surroundings of the Camden Passage location, or in the more intimately cosy Hoxton Square spot. Though to feed my habit here is slightly pricey, it is more than adequately compensated for by portions more generous than Mother Teresa. / Eamon Downes