As you disentangle the last of the Poundland fairy lights that drooped so festively from your wainscoting, it’s easy to feel slightly maudlin. It’s dark at 2pm, you’ve got dust for wallet innards and everything is grey grey grey. Which is why you should probably head to Canary Wharf Lights Festival at some point before January 27. It’s an international festival of light, which sounds a bit mad, but promises to be very good. Inventive effects, light “sculptures” and bloody good times.
The skinny-jeaned corpse of 2007 indie is risen and dragging its battered Converse to a venue near you
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