So I wrote this new song, its supposed to be sweet but I'm pretty sure its just offensive, who knows, I guess i'm no good at writing love songs...
I Love You, I'm Afraid
you wear your heart round your neck on a chain
and i think thats pretty brave
the devil in me wants to take it away
but i won't
i love you
i'm afraid
everyday when i wake
i sweat and stress just to spite the rest
but i'm thinking of you
i just can't help myself
the joy in me has me reach for a gun
cos when i'm on a home run
i can't help but run away
but i won't
i gotta keep my finger off that smiling trigger
gotta stop myself for my own health
gotta act like a man
but i don't know if i can
i love you
i'm afraid
you are the prettiest thing i've ever seen
you are the girl of my dreams
we make a pretty good team
but i'm scared
i turn inwards and my brain rots away
the gun points at me to quarantine the decay
i'm not gonna let myself ruin this today
cos i love you
this is too good to be true
and the devil in me still wants to kill you
i just can't help but self-destruct
but i won't
i love you
i'm afraid
when i see you i see me in parentheses
Thursday, 14 August 2008
Wednesday, 9 July 2008
poetry? sure...
Downwards Forever
Been reading Cometbus
So now i'm a
Dumpster diving caffeine fiend
Buk' brought little more than
A five o'clock shadow and
A five buck bottle of scotch
I read Camus
And started smoking
I read Nietzsche
And stopped caring
Then I read Dan Brown
And now here I am
- A homicidal maniac
Sorry
Been reading Cometbus
So now i'm a
Dumpster diving caffeine fiend
Buk' brought little more than
A five o'clock shadow and
A five buck bottle of scotch
I read Camus
And started smoking
I read Nietzsche
And stopped caring
Then I read Dan Brown
And now here I am
- A homicidal maniac
Sorry
Record Reviews
Not strictly reviews, recommendations? Bare in mind that i've probably partied with these people so i'm gonna be biased yeah, but they are still great records...
Me With Others - You Can't Argue With Silence (Dead Pilot Records)
Me With Others is the solo project of Dave Hamilton-Smith, frontman of various notable acts, including Encarsia and Desert City Silence. Anyway, the first thing you notice about this album is the heavy influence of John Frusciante on Dave's guitar playing and singing, the second thing you notice is the fact that all of the songs sounds fairly similar. However, neither of these factors are detrimental to one's enjoyment of this fantastic little record. The fact that the songs are so equally balanced in mood and timbre is testament to how easily, quickly and competently Dave has found his own sound and style as a songwriter. This really does not sound like a debut album. I don't know many musicians that would have the audacity to make their debut release a full length album of such ambition and vast scope, but I suppose equally I don't know many musicians with the quality and talent that Dave exhibits. As one would expect, the vocals are truly fantastic showing both musicality and passion, less expectedly, the guitar playing is of equal merit, Dave's playing is funky in a melancholic way, fantastic for late night coffee drinking sessions whilst digging into a new book. One of the most interesting things about this record is the way the songs are constructed, Dave possesses a jazz player's ability to let songs ebb and flow with loose structures seemingly just following the feeling of the song, reaching for the chords that take him their rather than the ones that you logically expect to follow. Its refreshing. Despite this, the songs remain pretty damn catchy, even at their most experimental. The whole thing is recorded in a delightful lo-fi manner onto a tape deck with the voice and guitar rarely accompanied by hand claps and thigh drums but little more! If this was out on vinyl (which it should be) I'd probably play it until the grooves disappear.
The Shitty Limits - Espionage 7" (Dire Records)
So this is the third release from one of the most hyped and best new bands in hardcore. The Shitty Limits play fast, fun, ludicrisly entertaining hardcore punk in the vein of Dean Dirg or the Angry Samoans. They mix up the proto punk of bands like the Stooges with some fuzzy rockin garage and a fuckload of 80s US hardcore, I love it. Its catchy, you can dance to it and its as unpretentious as you like. This record is slightly less manic than their previous two 7"s but it might be even better. In fact fuck it, yes, its definitely better, its fucking great. You should buy it, right now. If you don't i'll judge you.
The Gramercy Riffs - Demo CDR (self released)
So I saw these guys drunkenly ruin some Dutch people's night, then play a tight as you like set of dirty nasty hardcore. The demo is short as fuck but totally leaves you wanting more, this is so much better than I expected it to be. I must have played these three songs so many times and i'm still not bored of it. I don't really know the best way to describe this, I don't want to reference influences or whatever, but lets just say its fast, heavy, relentlessly pissed off and passionate as you like. This is probably the best new british hardcore band i've heard since i discovered Attack! Vipers! or Abandon Ship or something. They need to do an album, or at least a 7". You probably can't get this demo anymore but you should look them up on the internet.
Apologies, I Have None - Done (self released)
Ummm... can't be bothered to do anymore right now, but I will, one day.
Me With Others - You Can't Argue With Silence (Dead Pilot Records)
Me With Others is the solo project of Dave Hamilton-Smith, frontman of various notable acts, including Encarsia and Desert City Silence. Anyway, the first thing you notice about this album is the heavy influence of John Frusciante on Dave's guitar playing and singing, the second thing you notice is the fact that all of the songs sounds fairly similar. However, neither of these factors are detrimental to one's enjoyment of this fantastic little record. The fact that the songs are so equally balanced in mood and timbre is testament to how easily, quickly and competently Dave has found his own sound and style as a songwriter. This really does not sound like a debut album. I don't know many musicians that would have the audacity to make their debut release a full length album of such ambition and vast scope, but I suppose equally I don't know many musicians with the quality and talent that Dave exhibits. As one would expect, the vocals are truly fantastic showing both musicality and passion, less expectedly, the guitar playing is of equal merit, Dave's playing is funky in a melancholic way, fantastic for late night coffee drinking sessions whilst digging into a new book. One of the most interesting things about this record is the way the songs are constructed, Dave possesses a jazz player's ability to let songs ebb and flow with loose structures seemingly just following the feeling of the song, reaching for the chords that take him their rather than the ones that you logically expect to follow. Its refreshing. Despite this, the songs remain pretty damn catchy, even at their most experimental. The whole thing is recorded in a delightful lo-fi manner onto a tape deck with the voice and guitar rarely accompanied by hand claps and thigh drums but little more! If this was out on vinyl (which it should be) I'd probably play it until the grooves disappear.
The Shitty Limits - Espionage 7" (Dire Records)
So this is the third release from one of the most hyped and best new bands in hardcore. The Shitty Limits play fast, fun, ludicrisly entertaining hardcore punk in the vein of Dean Dirg or the Angry Samoans. They mix up the proto punk of bands like the Stooges with some fuzzy rockin garage and a fuckload of 80s US hardcore, I love it. Its catchy, you can dance to it and its as unpretentious as you like. This record is slightly less manic than their previous two 7"s but it might be even better. In fact fuck it, yes, its definitely better, its fucking great. You should buy it, right now. If you don't i'll judge you.
The Gramercy Riffs - Demo CDR (self released)
So I saw these guys drunkenly ruin some Dutch people's night, then play a tight as you like set of dirty nasty hardcore. The demo is short as fuck but totally leaves you wanting more, this is so much better than I expected it to be. I must have played these three songs so many times and i'm still not bored of it. I don't really know the best way to describe this, I don't want to reference influences or whatever, but lets just say its fast, heavy, relentlessly pissed off and passionate as you like. This is probably the best new british hardcore band i've heard since i discovered Attack! Vipers! or Abandon Ship or something. They need to do an album, or at least a 7". You probably can't get this demo anymore but you should look them up on the internet.
Apologies, I Have None - Done (self released)
These guys play pop folk punk with guitars, drums and gang singalongs galore, its fucking great stuff that reaffirms your faith, kickstarts your heartbeat and makes bleary eyes refocus, like a great cup of coffee. Fuck, can't do it justice but lets just say this, if you liked The Violent Femmes or Against Me! before they signed to Fat Wreck, you'll fucking adore this.
Ummm... can't be bothered to do anymore right now, but I will, one day.
Monday, 16 June 2008
the horizon never comes
we're chasin the dark
but the van lights keep on burning
we'll drive forever
but the horizon never comes
no one sells a drumbeat
like someone who hasn't slept in days
no one sells a feeling
like someone who feels like no one feels the same
Yes, I've spent the week cruising around playing shows with L Morgan, Paul Stapleton, the ever glamourous Rachel Pantechnicon and a nice assortment of others. It went like this...
Bristol
Backpack, guitar and trilby are stowed in the ageing Bedford MIDI and it feels good. That van has a sense of fun like no other, she really knows how to keep you going, quite literally. Anyway, I meet Rich, tour driver, he is rechristened as Boss Parker. L turns up at our house with a ridiculous grin, she's excited, I can understand why. We leave. Slow, steady progress is the order of the day, but who needs to go fast when the sun is shining, Bad Religion is on the stereo and you are in a van full of your friends. Exactly. We drink rum.
We arrive at the house, it is beautiful, the person putting on the show is a friendly arty type that has known L for years, she is really sweet and friendly. The occupants of the house have prepared a real feast, all salad and fried veg. Its pretty classy. We decide to go on a walk around the neighbourhood to collect wood from skips so we can have a fire. Its a really lively place, got that vibe to it, bit of character you know, loads of street art and graffitti, ace.
The show is good, marred by hippies that heckle, but good. We sit in the garden and drink cider, a campfire is lit. For some reason I feel weird about the whole thing and decide to sit by the front door to think for a while. Its odd, I generally feel out of place in social situations of this type, even though there is no reason to. Anyway, I end up getting really stoned and feel a bit like my lungs are bleeding out of my eyes, not so great. I am in bed by midnight, as are Paul, Henry and Rich. And there it was, laying down the precedent that would lead to the least rock and roll tour ever.
The day after the show we walk to a city farm (yeah!) to get breakfast. I think its a kind of community run allotments and farm, its pretty amazing. Paul befriends a baby goat. Anyway we chow down on organic delights. We decide to walk to town because Naomi wants to show us an occupied art space she is involved with. Scenic route, bridge, art, beautiful. We hit up some charitee shops on the way and I pick up a Dubliners tape for 50p. The squat is mindblowing, I've never seen anything like it. It is a massive courtyard surrounded by buildings, including a disused fire station, police station and courtroom, all of which are occupied. It is right in the centre of town. I really can't believe it, inspiring stuff. We stroll back to Naomi's for a cuppa, then hit the road.
Southampton
It is a fairly short trip to Southampton. With the exception of Rachel, we have all played at the Homestead several times before, we know what to expect. The show is quiet but really lovely, I actually enjoy playing a great deal, which is a rarity. James J Barrett shows up and brings everyone somewhere near his tradmark level of positivity, its great to see the guy. I am lifted with high spirits and cheerfulness. After the show we sit around and hang out with the punks that live at the Homestead, its really nice to see them and get the chance to talk properly. The Homestead, as always, is amazing.
Portsmouth
A lazy day, the show is in my house, not much to do. We go to Mumm's Cafe for breakfast, Russell buys a chest of drawers which we are to cart around in the van for the remainder of the tour. Equally, Paul's collection of charitee shop video games consoles is growing, multiple carrier bags spilling their retro contents left, right and centre. Whatever that means. Rich wants to swim in the sea and the weather is glorious so we hit the beach. I go paddling, as does L. Rich and Henry make a better fist of things and float around avoiding ferries for a while. It really is a blessed day and I enjoy basking in the sun. On the way home we stop at the Peace Cafe to say hello to James and Dan, drink some tea and chill. We arrive home and eat the delicious carrot and lentil curry that L has prepared, then we wait for people to arrive, some do, we play. I never enjoy playing at my own house and this is no exception, but I have fun regardless. Paul plays a very contemplative melancholy set and really goes somewhere, the unplanned whims of a cider drunkard can be fruitful, yes.
Worcester
Welcome to sauce town, Worcestershire is picturesque, lovely. We arrive, tired. The squat is small and messy, but Johnny, our host, seems friendly. The house was previously occupied by a pensioner and it looks like the decour hasn't changed in 40 years. This combined with the stylishly debauched, bohemian nature of its inhabitants gives the feeling that we are playing a show on the set of Withnail and I. We don't really know what to think, the show could be good or bad, its hard to tell. We walk to town to buy some food and booze and sit by the canal to picnic. We embrace our third bottle of rum. Rain arrives so the garden show becomes an indoor event. We play to a room rammed full of the sweetest most respectful, awesome punk kids you could ever imagine. I love it. Johnny plays a soulful set of gypsy punk stuff accompanied by a chap playing an antique violin found in a skip, only in Worcestershire. Everyone is super friendly, it fuckin rules and I don't want to leave, but we must.
Leamington Spa
The Midlands has been good to us, and this was to continue in Leam. The guy putting on the show is called Sami and he is the most welcoming, kind hearted soul you could ever wish for. His house is full of board games and 80s games consoles, a real winner. In the morning we go to town for breakfast and charitee shops. L buys a cast iron steak pan and I spend £3.50 kitting myself out with a shirt, hat and 'kerchief. I feel like a farmer/poet/spanish civil war revolutionary. All good things. Leamington has a massive, beautiful church and I have to check it out. L and Rich join me, its alright. As much as organised religion leaves a sour taste, churches sure are awesome to behold, I suppose that is the point eh. We wonder around some more, check out the venue and stroll around the city museum and art gallery, a mixture of the profound and the piss, the usual. Its fun. We arrive home to drink some tea and have a nap, then Sami cooks us some amazing tofu and bean enchiladas and vegan chocolate brownies, delicious! The show is at a studenty pub called Robbin's Well, it scares me. Its a benefit for a political zine called Dissident, which is nice. I am in a shitty mood all night and play an aggressive, angsty set. I don't enjoy it much. L is really on form though, she plays last and really goes for it, proper spine tingling stuff, boom. After the show we pack the van and set off for Brighton. Its a long, tiring drive.
Brighton
In Brighton we listen to rocksteady, constantly, but thats ok. We take some time out, go hill walking in the South Downs, dinner at Bombay Aloo (£3.50 all-you-can-eat veg curry buffet, right on!), then a pint of organic lager at the Evening Star, I meet up with Andy which is really nice, he brings me a stuffed courgette and other vegan treats from the resturantwhere he works, we retire to Paul's yard and watch Threads, a BBC film about nuclear apocalypse. It is ineffably bleak, but so very moving. Our show is in Paul's garden, its a family orientated, chilled out affair and I feel very uncomfortable. To tell the truth I'd been considering packing it all in since the show in Leamington, I concluded that I don't really have much else to do so I may as well continue playing music. I still feel uncomfortable and play a reserved set, apparently its good, I don't know anymore. There is a band of ukeleles, kazoos and singing children, I am the only one that finds it terribly annoying, sorry. Pog are mindblowingly tight and chipper, a real bundle of energy. Phil plays last and really gets hold of something good, he's a real showman, a shaman perhaps. You can't help but respect the guy. After the show we drink red wine and chat nonsense, probably.
London
We leave Brighton late, can't find fuel, the London to Brighton bike ride is today, cyclists everywhere. It is also the day George W Bush visits London and there is a demo, as you'd imagine. Navigating through central London is no fun at all but The Violent Femmes on the stereo keeps us in a good mood. We play the show in Jas' garden and enjoy vegan sausages and burgers from a massive skipped bbq, ace. There is rum, rum like no other, Captain Blood. Death. I feel weird about playing, playing is weird. The show is a matinee so afterwards we head to Camden Town to see our brothers and sisters; Attack! Vipers!, The Small Mercies and Astpai rock the shit out of the Bar Monsta. PJ convinces us to drink cans of 8% cider and it makes me feel a great deal better. All the bands are fantastic, especially Attack! Vipers! who provide me with the cathartic primal scream that I have been craving. Pyriamids fail, circle pit fails. Oh well. Afterwards we head back to Jas' house to drink more and hang out. Zock from Astpai decides to add Jaegermeister to everything, in doing so creating a saucepan of beansgermeister. He is entertaining as fuck as he tries to drink his way through the night before an early morning van ride to Aberdeen. I really enjoy myselfhanging out and chatting, L gets violent, then we pull christmas crackers and drink old, old wine, its ok. Somehow, I get a bed, first bed of tour, I don't really sleep but at least i'm comfortable. As we drive out of London and head for the M4, Hot Water Music is on the stereo and i'm still drunk from the night before. Everything tastes of Jaegermeister. But thats how it should be, right?
Thanks, everyone, I love you all.
but the van lights keep on burning
we'll drive forever
but the horizon never comes
no one sells a drumbeat
like someone who hasn't slept in days
no one sells a feeling
like someone who feels like no one feels the same
Yes, I've spent the week cruising around playing shows with L Morgan, Paul Stapleton, the ever glamourous Rachel Pantechnicon and a nice assortment of others. It went like this...
Bristol
Backpack, guitar and trilby are stowed in the ageing Bedford MIDI and it feels good. That van has a sense of fun like no other, she really knows how to keep you going, quite literally. Anyway, I meet Rich, tour driver, he is rechristened as Boss Parker. L turns up at our house with a ridiculous grin, she's excited, I can understand why. We leave. Slow, steady progress is the order of the day, but who needs to go fast when the sun is shining, Bad Religion is on the stereo and you are in a van full of your friends. Exactly. We drink rum.
We arrive at the house, it is beautiful, the person putting on the show is a friendly arty type that has known L for years, she is really sweet and friendly. The occupants of the house have prepared a real feast, all salad and fried veg. Its pretty classy. We decide to go on a walk around the neighbourhood to collect wood from skips so we can have a fire. Its a really lively place, got that vibe to it, bit of character you know, loads of street art and graffitti, ace.
The show is good, marred by hippies that heckle, but good. We sit in the garden and drink cider, a campfire is lit. For some reason I feel weird about the whole thing and decide to sit by the front door to think for a while. Its odd, I generally feel out of place in social situations of this type, even though there is no reason to. Anyway, I end up getting really stoned and feel a bit like my lungs are bleeding out of my eyes, not so great. I am in bed by midnight, as are Paul, Henry and Rich. And there it was, laying down the precedent that would lead to the least rock and roll tour ever.
The day after the show we walk to a city farm (yeah!) to get breakfast. I think its a kind of community run allotments and farm, its pretty amazing. Paul befriends a baby goat. Anyway we chow down on organic delights. We decide to walk to town because Naomi wants to show us an occupied art space she is involved with. Scenic route, bridge, art, beautiful. We hit up some charitee shops on the way and I pick up a Dubliners tape for 50p. The squat is mindblowing, I've never seen anything like it. It is a massive courtyard surrounded by buildings, including a disused fire station, police station and courtroom, all of which are occupied. It is right in the centre of town. I really can't believe it, inspiring stuff. We stroll back to Naomi's for a cuppa, then hit the road.
Southampton
It is a fairly short trip to Southampton. With the exception of Rachel, we have all played at the Homestead several times before, we know what to expect. The show is quiet but really lovely, I actually enjoy playing a great deal, which is a rarity. James J Barrett shows up and brings everyone somewhere near his tradmark level of positivity, its great to see the guy. I am lifted with high spirits and cheerfulness. After the show we sit around and hang out with the punks that live at the Homestead, its really nice to see them and get the chance to talk properly. The Homestead, as always, is amazing.
Portsmouth
A lazy day, the show is in my house, not much to do. We go to Mumm's Cafe for breakfast, Russell buys a chest of drawers which we are to cart around in the van for the remainder of the tour. Equally, Paul's collection of charitee shop video games consoles is growing, multiple carrier bags spilling their retro contents left, right and centre. Whatever that means. Rich wants to swim in the sea and the weather is glorious so we hit the beach. I go paddling, as does L. Rich and Henry make a better fist of things and float around avoiding ferries for a while. It really is a blessed day and I enjoy basking in the sun. On the way home we stop at the Peace Cafe to say hello to James and Dan, drink some tea and chill. We arrive home and eat the delicious carrot and lentil curry that L has prepared, then we wait for people to arrive, some do, we play. I never enjoy playing at my own house and this is no exception, but I have fun regardless. Paul plays a very contemplative melancholy set and really goes somewhere, the unplanned whims of a cider drunkard can be fruitful, yes.
Worcester
Welcome to sauce town, Worcestershire is picturesque, lovely. We arrive, tired. The squat is small and messy, but Johnny, our host, seems friendly. The house was previously occupied by a pensioner and it looks like the decour hasn't changed in 40 years. This combined with the stylishly debauched, bohemian nature of its inhabitants gives the feeling that we are playing a show on the set of Withnail and I. We don't really know what to think, the show could be good or bad, its hard to tell. We walk to town to buy some food and booze and sit by the canal to picnic. We embrace our third bottle of rum. Rain arrives so the garden show becomes an indoor event. We play to a room rammed full of the sweetest most respectful, awesome punk kids you could ever imagine. I love it. Johnny plays a soulful set of gypsy punk stuff accompanied by a chap playing an antique violin found in a skip, only in Worcestershire. Everyone is super friendly, it fuckin rules and I don't want to leave, but we must.
Leamington Spa
The Midlands has been good to us, and this was to continue in Leam. The guy putting on the show is called Sami and he is the most welcoming, kind hearted soul you could ever wish for. His house is full of board games and 80s games consoles, a real winner. In the morning we go to town for breakfast and charitee shops. L buys a cast iron steak pan and I spend £3.50 kitting myself out with a shirt, hat and 'kerchief. I feel like a farmer/poet/spanish civil war revolutionary. All good things. Leamington has a massive, beautiful church and I have to check it out. L and Rich join me, its alright. As much as organised religion leaves a sour taste, churches sure are awesome to behold, I suppose that is the point eh. We wonder around some more, check out the venue and stroll around the city museum and art gallery, a mixture of the profound and the piss, the usual. Its fun. We arrive home to drink some tea and have a nap, then Sami cooks us some amazing tofu and bean enchiladas and vegan chocolate brownies, delicious! The show is at a studenty pub called Robbin's Well, it scares me. Its a benefit for a political zine called Dissident, which is nice. I am in a shitty mood all night and play an aggressive, angsty set. I don't enjoy it much. L is really on form though, she plays last and really goes for it, proper spine tingling stuff, boom. After the show we pack the van and set off for Brighton. Its a long, tiring drive.
Brighton
In Brighton we listen to rocksteady, constantly, but thats ok. We take some time out, go hill walking in the South Downs, dinner at Bombay Aloo (£3.50 all-you-can-eat veg curry buffet, right on!), then a pint of organic lager at the Evening Star, I meet up with Andy which is really nice, he brings me a stuffed courgette and other vegan treats from the resturantwhere he works, we retire to Paul's yard and watch Threads, a BBC film about nuclear apocalypse. It is ineffably bleak, but so very moving. Our show is in Paul's garden, its a family orientated, chilled out affair and I feel very uncomfortable. To tell the truth I'd been considering packing it all in since the show in Leamington, I concluded that I don't really have much else to do so I may as well continue playing music. I still feel uncomfortable and play a reserved set, apparently its good, I don't know anymore. There is a band of ukeleles, kazoos and singing children, I am the only one that finds it terribly annoying, sorry. Pog are mindblowingly tight and chipper, a real bundle of energy. Phil plays last and really gets hold of something good, he's a real showman, a shaman perhaps. You can't help but respect the guy. After the show we drink red wine and chat nonsense, probably.
London
We leave Brighton late, can't find fuel, the London to Brighton bike ride is today, cyclists everywhere. It is also the day George W Bush visits London and there is a demo, as you'd imagine. Navigating through central London is no fun at all but The Violent Femmes on the stereo keeps us in a good mood. We play the show in Jas' garden and enjoy vegan sausages and burgers from a massive skipped bbq, ace. There is rum, rum like no other, Captain Blood. Death. I feel weird about playing, playing is weird. The show is a matinee so afterwards we head to Camden Town to see our brothers and sisters; Attack! Vipers!, The Small Mercies and Astpai rock the shit out of the Bar Monsta. PJ convinces us to drink cans of 8% cider and it makes me feel a great deal better. All the bands are fantastic, especially Attack! Vipers! who provide me with the cathartic primal scream that I have been craving. Pyriamids fail, circle pit fails. Oh well. Afterwards we head back to Jas' house to drink more and hang out. Zock from Astpai decides to add Jaegermeister to everything, in doing so creating a saucepan of beansgermeister. He is entertaining as fuck as he tries to drink his way through the night before an early morning van ride to Aberdeen. I really enjoy myselfhanging out and chatting, L gets violent, then we pull christmas crackers and drink old, old wine, its ok. Somehow, I get a bed, first bed of tour, I don't really sleep but at least i'm comfortable. As we drive out of London and head for the M4, Hot Water Music is on the stereo and i'm still drunk from the night before. Everything tastes of Jaegermeister. But thats how it should be, right?
Thanks, everyone, I love you all.
Tuesday, 27 May 2008
El Odio (deceased)
Well, its pretty annoying getting a sudden burst of creative energy when you are supposed to be doing something else. I have to write an essay about factors affecting democratic transition in Russia, but all I really want to do is sing and play guitar.
Oh well.
Anyway, news...
I got a first in my dissertation, which came as a real surprise to me. I suppose I should be happy but at the end of the day its the same dissertation I wrote and handed in whether they gave it a first or a third. Whether you are proud of something should really be derived from within, but I suppose thats easy to say when you've got a first. Regardless, I still probably won't do that well overall but to be fair I never really did this degree to get a mark on a piece of paper.
They really must turn everything into a competition huh? Can't people learn just because they like to learn? Apparently not...
I've been offered a house and a job for a few month. I think i'm gonna be driving tractors. Sounds alright to me...
Oh well.
Anyway, news...
I got a first in my dissertation, which came as a real surprise to me. I suppose I should be happy but at the end of the day its the same dissertation I wrote and handed in whether they gave it a first or a third. Whether you are proud of something should really be derived from within, but I suppose thats easy to say when you've got a first. Regardless, I still probably won't do that well overall but to be fair I never really did this degree to get a mark on a piece of paper.
They really must turn everything into a competition huh? Can't people learn just because they like to learn? Apparently not...
I've been offered a house and a job for a few month. I think i'm gonna be driving tractors. Sounds alright to me...
Saturday, 24 May 2008
ercassam woldul
Well, I've had fun. I know how it feels. The weekend has been lovely.
I was in a really weird mood towards the back end of last week but now i'm right back on it. Tackling shit like Tony Adams did.
Last night I put on a show, its was pretty fun. The bands that played were really grooving and I had a pretty nice time hanging out and drinking some beers. Afterwards Azzam took us to some crazy crazy party. I didn't really get it, apparently its fun.
We nearly got arrested for talking too loudly in the Street. Darren made a pretty decent fist of defending our honour. I figure if you're gonna drunkenly talk about Gaudi to impress Spanish girls, the law should probably indulge you and take exception. Only seems fair to me.
We swam in cobblestones and bolted.
Today was Kyo's birthday so we sat on the common for BBQ, beers and a cheeky smoke. I was lost. Not to mention hungover. All the same, it was nice, I had a good time. The sun was a-smokin'.
I was supposed to be seeing Benga tonight but alas, I am truly skint.
Been thinking about writing an article about Facebook and Guy Debord. Do you think it will work? I assume you can see where i'm coming from.
I should probably get off Facebook, thing aint healthy.
I was in a really weird mood towards the back end of last week but now i'm right back on it. Tackling shit like Tony Adams did.
Last night I put on a show, its was pretty fun. The bands that played were really grooving and I had a pretty nice time hanging out and drinking some beers. Afterwards Azzam took us to some crazy crazy party. I didn't really get it, apparently its fun.
We nearly got arrested for talking too loudly in the Street. Darren made a pretty decent fist of defending our honour. I figure if you're gonna drunkenly talk about Gaudi to impress Spanish girls, the law should probably indulge you and take exception. Only seems fair to me.
We swam in cobblestones and bolted.
Today was Kyo's birthday so we sat on the common for BBQ, beers and a cheeky smoke. I was lost. Not to mention hungover. All the same, it was nice, I had a good time. The sun was a-smokin'.
I was supposed to be seeing Benga tonight but alas, I am truly skint.
Been thinking about writing an article about Facebook and Guy Debord. Do you think it will work? I assume you can see where i'm coming from.
I should probably get off Facebook, thing aint healthy.
Thursday, 22 May 2008
...
When you spend half your life in a nihilistic tailspin, those health warnings on the side of tobacco packets really don't seem so persuasive.
What was I gonna do with those extra years anyway?
I'm going outside for a fag.
What was I gonna do with those extra years anyway?
I'm going outside for a fag.
Saturday, 19 April 2008
interview city
I was stumbling around the internet and I came accross this interview that I did ages ago and forgot about. So...you know...have a read...
Tommy Comstock is very active in the DIY music scene in the south of England. He writes and plays acoustic songs, going on tours of houses around the UK, as well as playing trombone in The Psyche Out Musikland Big Band. He also puts on acoustic shows in his house, and electric shows in local venues. He has released several offerings on small label Vegetable Massacre Recordings, mostly available on short runs on cassette tape. This year, he has recorded a full-length album, and is planning to tour houses in the Netherlands and America with his music. He discusses the tactics of the music industry from a grassroots perspective.
What do you think the answer for small bands trying to make a living out of music, to downloading, and big bands giving their music away for free?
I’m not sure bands should try to make a living out of music, I think it’s very difficult to do and not really something I’d want to try. At the same time, I think the DIY community is something so insular and separate from the influence of Carling and Radiohead or whatever that you could probably tour the DIY circuit playing small pubs and houses, getting fed and paid and stuff, and what the bigger bands are doing isn’t even going to make any difference. I’m not sure my band is in competition with Radiohead over ticket sales or record sales so I say we just keep on playing DIY shows and they can do what they do and if it means I can download their new album for two quid then that’s even better.
What is your opinion on larger bands who are giving their music away to publicise themselves to gain money through ticket sales?
I think if that is their motive then its pretty lame but not unexpected. But to flip it on its head, I think if bands are giving their music away for nobler ends then it is something really cool that we should be supporting. At the end of the day, I guess no matter how hard we try to avoid it, our day to day lives are somewhat governed by the dominant system of production – and that includes the production and consumption (in absence of a better term) of art and music. Personally, I would be inclined to support any band that tries to subvert those systemic norms, whether it be Radiohead letting people download their music for free, or The King Blues being signed to a major but playing squat shows and free shows outside venues.
Do you think this will blow small bands out of the water?
I think maybe this kind of shift could blow some bands out of the water, but only the bands that try to play the mainstream game and lose. Maybe it’s not very positive to say so, but personally I’d be disposed to say that they deserve it. I don’t think it will make much difference to the DIY scene and ultimately I’m not sure it will really even change music on a wider level. I think people will continue to enjoy playing music and listening to music, and if there is a real incentive to do so, or they feel like its something authentic and genuine and something worth doing, people will carry on paying money for records. If I really like a band I might burn a CD off a mate, but then chances are I’ll go to their shows and buy a shirt or probably buy the CD or vinyl itself because it’s a nice thing to have. You feel like you’re supporting the band and they deserve it.
At the same time people will keep downloading and making mix tapes because not everyone can afford to buy every CD they come across. It’s kind of crazy, because although this whole download thing does seem to reduce music to its simplest purest form, which should be a good thing, in a funny kind of way to me it also seems like its kind of commoditising music as well. I’m not sure I like the idea of reducing art to just files on a computer that can be bought and sold.
I like having the art work and the lyrics. I enjoy the actual activity of going record shopping and the whole ritual of putting a record on the deck and sitting down to read the sleeve and listen to the songs, somehow that is lost in MP3s, and maybe that’s just the death rattle of commodity fetishism in punk but I think maybe its something I’d miss and maybe there’s something more to owning records and CDs than just accumulating products for the sake of accumulation, I hope there is. At the end of the day, despite the efforts of the major labels and the mainstream music press, I feel like music is just music and I think music will carry on just being music. Kids enjoy making songs and putting out records and talking about them and writing zines, and that isn’t something that’s going to just disappear. If it turns out that this whole thing drags down the mainstream music industry and maybe takes some of the fucking horrible bands with it, then I think that can only be good for music as a whole.
Tommy Comstock is very active in the DIY music scene in the south of England. He writes and plays acoustic songs, going on tours of houses around the UK, as well as playing trombone in The Psyche Out Musikland Big Band. He also puts on acoustic shows in his house, and electric shows in local venues. He has released several offerings on small label Vegetable Massacre Recordings, mostly available on short runs on cassette tape. This year, he has recorded a full-length album, and is planning to tour houses in the Netherlands and America with his music. He discusses the tactics of the music industry from a grassroots perspective.
What do you think the answer for small bands trying to make a living out of music, to downloading, and big bands giving their music away for free?
I’m not sure bands should try to make a living out of music, I think it’s very difficult to do and not really something I’d want to try. At the same time, I think the DIY community is something so insular and separate from the influence of Carling and Radiohead or whatever that you could probably tour the DIY circuit playing small pubs and houses, getting fed and paid and stuff, and what the bigger bands are doing isn’t even going to make any difference. I’m not sure my band is in competition with Radiohead over ticket sales or record sales so I say we just keep on playing DIY shows and they can do what they do and if it means I can download their new album for two quid then that’s even better.
What is your opinion on larger bands who are giving their music away to publicise themselves to gain money through ticket sales?
I think if that is their motive then its pretty lame but not unexpected. But to flip it on its head, I think if bands are giving their music away for nobler ends then it is something really cool that we should be supporting. At the end of the day, I guess no matter how hard we try to avoid it, our day to day lives are somewhat governed by the dominant system of production – and that includes the production and consumption (in absence of a better term) of art and music. Personally, I would be inclined to support any band that tries to subvert those systemic norms, whether it be Radiohead letting people download their music for free, or The King Blues being signed to a major but playing squat shows and free shows outside venues.
Do you think this will blow small bands out of the water?
I think maybe this kind of shift could blow some bands out of the water, but only the bands that try to play the mainstream game and lose. Maybe it’s not very positive to say so, but personally I’d be disposed to say that they deserve it. I don’t think it will make much difference to the DIY scene and ultimately I’m not sure it will really even change music on a wider level. I think people will continue to enjoy playing music and listening to music, and if there is a real incentive to do so, or they feel like its something authentic and genuine and something worth doing, people will carry on paying money for records. If I really like a band I might burn a CD off a mate, but then chances are I’ll go to their shows and buy a shirt or probably buy the CD or vinyl itself because it’s a nice thing to have. You feel like you’re supporting the band and they deserve it.
At the same time people will keep downloading and making mix tapes because not everyone can afford to buy every CD they come across. It’s kind of crazy, because although this whole download thing does seem to reduce music to its simplest purest form, which should be a good thing, in a funny kind of way to me it also seems like its kind of commoditising music as well. I’m not sure I like the idea of reducing art to just files on a computer that can be bought and sold.
I like having the art work and the lyrics. I enjoy the actual activity of going record shopping and the whole ritual of putting a record on the deck and sitting down to read the sleeve and listen to the songs, somehow that is lost in MP3s, and maybe that’s just the death rattle of commodity fetishism in punk but I think maybe its something I’d miss and maybe there’s something more to owning records and CDs than just accumulating products for the sake of accumulation, I hope there is. At the end of the day, despite the efforts of the major labels and the mainstream music press, I feel like music is just music and I think music will carry on just being music. Kids enjoy making songs and putting out records and talking about them and writing zines, and that isn’t something that’s going to just disappear. If it turns out that this whole thing drags down the mainstream music industry and maybe takes some of the fucking horrible bands with it, then I think that can only be good for music as a whole.
Monday, 14 April 2008
Does her heart beat like the rest?
I've been thinking about Maggie Thatcher, not one of my favourite pastimes but sometimes it is neccessary. Anyway, over the past few months i've been invited a few times to a street party when she dies (presuming she's human and she actually will die). This is where the problem lies. No matter how much I'd like to believe that shes some crazy inhumane mutant, I can't help but think that she proabably is an actual real life homo sapien. To begin with I really liked the idea of the street party, it seemed like a political thing and a fun thing, a worthy thing. But the more I think about it the less I am able to square it morally. I don't think I'll attend. At the end of the day this remains a celebration of someone's death. To me that seems pretty demented. Sure I had a celebratory pint or two when Blair left office but this is quite different. For all her (numerous, unforgivable, heinous) faults, i'm not sure even the old witch herself would have actually celebrated someone dying.
As for whether she should get a state funeral, thats a different story...
As for whether she should get a state funeral, thats a different story...
Sunday, 6 April 2008
get off my cloud
So, I've had a pretty goddam unproductive weekend. In fact, since Wednesday I've done pretty much nothin, I don't mind so much. I've had fun.
Conclusions drawn...
Football fucking hurts if you are as unfit as I am
A 40oz and a joint at half time absolutely does not help
International students know how to party
Azzam is an excellent person to go to parties with
German girls are cute
Drinking hurts even more than football, fast forward 24 hours and both hurt even more
Pacmania is fucking genius
Whoever designed Sonic 1 for the Master System was a sadistic fuck
Oil barrels make good drums, for drumming
Grindhouse is fucking excellent
Playing Bombenalarm tapes incredibly loudly and swinging my walkman by its wriststrap is a good way to annoy those mobile phone music kids
Well, that list was pretty pointless really, not too sure why I wrote it.
Time for a shower, need some clean.
Peace
Conclusions drawn...
Football fucking hurts if you are as unfit as I am
A 40oz and a joint at half time absolutely does not help
International students know how to party
Azzam is an excellent person to go to parties with
German girls are cute
Drinking hurts even more than football, fast forward 24 hours and both hurt even more
Pacmania is fucking genius
Whoever designed Sonic 1 for the Master System was a sadistic fuck
Oil barrels make good drums, for drumming
Grindhouse is fucking excellent
Playing Bombenalarm tapes incredibly loudly and swinging my walkman by its wriststrap is a good way to annoy those mobile phone music kids
Well, that list was pretty pointless really, not too sure why I wrote it.
Time for a shower, need some clean.
Peace
drunk football fans sound like zombies when they sing
Choir of Zombies
The football team lost today
now the pubs are all closed
and a choir of zombies
is calling out your name
we'll sing when we're winning
and we'll sing till we die
but our songs will sound like tears
if we lose tomorrow night
as long as we keep on singing
we'll look the bosses in their eyes
as long as we keep drinking
we'll deface the advertisers lies
we'll sing when we're winning
and we'll sing till we die
but our songs will sound like tears
if we lose tomorrow night
lets not lose tomorrow night
seize the day like the butterflies
lets dance and drink
and hide from the police
lets take tomorrow in our stride
The football team lost today
now the pubs are all closed
and a choir of zombies
is calling out your name
we'll sing when we're winning
and we'll sing till we die
but our songs will sound like tears
if we lose tomorrow night
as long as we keep on singing
we'll look the bosses in their eyes
as long as we keep drinking
we'll deface the advertisers lies
we'll sing when we're winning
and we'll sing till we die
but our songs will sound like tears
if we lose tomorrow night
lets not lose tomorrow night
seize the day like the butterflies
lets dance and drink
and hide from the police
lets take tomorrow in our stride
Saturday, 29 March 2008
tourgay
So, I should be sleeping, that is the truth. I've just come off tour and that sure does affect you, physically and mentally. I'm used to getting to sleep at 4 or 5, this can't last.
Anyway, tour was fun. Much more than fun really. To say something is fun is such a trivialisation, really hardly anything is fun. We played to a lot of empty rooms and a lot of full rooms, sold quite a few CDs, slept on a lot of floors, met a few terrible people and a lot of wonderrful ones. Tour was ok.
I'm constantly bewildered by Action and Action's ability to play so hard and tight and with such passion on a nightly basis. Even when its a poor environment or everyone feels awful they just seem to pull something out from buried deep in their rib cage and set fire to it. I really can't help but feel like we have no right to play alongside them on such a regular basis, but I'm constantly motivated and inspired by the reality, that we have been presented with such an opportunity.
I'm in a weird mood, contemplative I suppose. I feel a bit like maybe Psyche Out is just riding on novelty, the whole volume and chaos thing. Also, seems like no matter what you try to do artstically, it always comes out seeming contrived. Just wanna make something that actually means something. Some pure, white, genuine, eternal heat. Something that I can be proud of.
I love this band, I love the people in it and I love the music we make, just feel constantly constrained by the eternal world and by the perceptions of others.
I feel like I just want to get away and hide somewhere without any technology, no static to distort the signal. Then maybe I can focus and create some concentrate y'know, some real strong liquor to wash down the underachievement.
Whatever, i'm just talking now, not speaking. Like the words are evaporating as soon as they come up, too quick for me, before i'm ready to let them go. Its not good.
The clocks have changed, not sure exactly what that means. I know it means I have no idea when i'm supposed to wake up.
Maybe I'll just sleep.
Anyway, tour was fun. Much more than fun really. To say something is fun is such a trivialisation, really hardly anything is fun. We played to a lot of empty rooms and a lot of full rooms, sold quite a few CDs, slept on a lot of floors, met a few terrible people and a lot of wonderrful ones. Tour was ok.
I'm constantly bewildered by Action and Action's ability to play so hard and tight and with such passion on a nightly basis. Even when its a poor environment or everyone feels awful they just seem to pull something out from buried deep in their rib cage and set fire to it. I really can't help but feel like we have no right to play alongside them on such a regular basis, but I'm constantly motivated and inspired by the reality, that we have been presented with such an opportunity.
I'm in a weird mood, contemplative I suppose. I feel a bit like maybe Psyche Out is just riding on novelty, the whole volume and chaos thing. Also, seems like no matter what you try to do artstically, it always comes out seeming contrived. Just wanna make something that actually means something. Some pure, white, genuine, eternal heat. Something that I can be proud of.
I love this band, I love the people in it and I love the music we make, just feel constantly constrained by the eternal world and by the perceptions of others.
I feel like I just want to get away and hide somewhere without any technology, no static to distort the signal. Then maybe I can focus and create some concentrate y'know, some real strong liquor to wash down the underachievement.
Whatever, i'm just talking now, not speaking. Like the words are evaporating as soon as they come up, too quick for me, before i'm ready to let them go. Its not good.
The clocks have changed, not sure exactly what that means. I know it means I have no idea when i'm supposed to wake up.
Maybe I'll just sleep.
war inside my head
So, I'm at my parents house, just found this poem i wrote ages ago, seems kinda dumb now I read it, like this clumsy awful giant with too many limbs. Still, its kinda interesting, in a way. I think so anyway.
1. ‘The Civilian’
I killed a man today
In the town square
The village said
A silent prayer
I was a hero that night
The fight was raging and the people were helpless
But I forgot how to be a man
And now they believe I’m Jesus
Men cry bloodied tears
Screams escape covered ears
The people realise their wildest fears
And my family have disappeared
2. ‘The Soldier’
I’m just a man
Just doing a job
As a kid they said to me…
‘For you son it’s the army or the mob’
The gods asked my assistance
And the country needs my life
I was sent to fight resistance
And I’ll fight them until I die
But the angels tell me that
Resistance is born right here where I lie
3. ‘The Conscience’
I have no family near me
And I’ve never seen this gun
I live in a house in England
And from no one must I run
The people call me Jesus ‘cos the people aren’t alive
When I feel guilt I feel uneasy because what I feel’s a lie
I didn’t protect that town and I didn’t protect that state
Its time to realise this truth and resolve to face my fate
The Story
Soldiers attack a village to root out some kind of insurrectionary group, ‘The Civilian’ stands up to the army to protect his family and kills ‘The Soldier’ This makes ‘The Civilian’ feel guilty and remorseful. However, the townspeople see him as a hero despite his own self-loathing. Because he killed ‘The Soldier’ he is falsely branded as an insurrectionary leader by the authorities and his family is kidnapped and killed.
The Reality
Both ‘The Civilian’ and ‘The Soldier’ are the same person/do not really exist. They are characters in the imagination of a of a mentally ill war veteran. The three characters in the song represent ‘The Civilian’, ‘The Soldier’ and ‘The Conscience’ of the war vet trying to come to terms with reality. The song suggests that even completely different people or actual enemies are essentially part of one human consciousness and have far more in common than most people realise. It also alludes to the idea that reality as we know it is actually a fabrication. The last line depicts ’The Conscience’ realising this, being unable to deal with it and killing himself.
1. ‘The Civilian’
I killed a man today
In the town square
The village said
A silent prayer
I was a hero that night
The fight was raging and the people were helpless
But I forgot how to be a man
And now they believe I’m Jesus
Men cry bloodied tears
Screams escape covered ears
The people realise their wildest fears
And my family have disappeared
2. ‘The Soldier’
I’m just a man
Just doing a job
As a kid they said to me…
‘For you son it’s the army or the mob’
The gods asked my assistance
And the country needs my life
I was sent to fight resistance
And I’ll fight them until I die
But the angels tell me that
Resistance is born right here where I lie
3. ‘The Conscience’
I have no family near me
And I’ve never seen this gun
I live in a house in England
And from no one must I run
The people call me Jesus ‘cos the people aren’t alive
When I feel guilt I feel uneasy because what I feel’s a lie
I didn’t protect that town and I didn’t protect that state
Its time to realise this truth and resolve to face my fate
The Story
Soldiers attack a village to root out some kind of insurrectionary group, ‘The Civilian’ stands up to the army to protect his family and kills ‘The Soldier’ This makes ‘The Civilian’ feel guilty and remorseful. However, the townspeople see him as a hero despite his own self-loathing. Because he killed ‘The Soldier’ he is falsely branded as an insurrectionary leader by the authorities and his family is kidnapped and killed.
The Reality
Both ‘The Civilian’ and ‘The Soldier’ are the same person/do not really exist. They are characters in the imagination of a of a mentally ill war veteran. The three characters in the song represent ‘The Civilian’, ‘The Soldier’ and ‘The Conscience’ of the war vet trying to come to terms with reality. The song suggests that even completely different people or actual enemies are essentially part of one human consciousness and have far more in common than most people realise. It also alludes to the idea that reality as we know it is actually a fabrication. The last line depicts ’The Conscience’ realising this, being unable to deal with it and killing himself.
Monday, 10 March 2008
lexicology of a wasted youth
Words fall
Like train tracks to the sky
The creator has a plan for this
But he forgot to let us fly
These people have a feeling
That makes them seem more strong
We all know hope is an atavism
That helps us get along
The placards are a noble lie
To keep the populace alive
The face on them is not to blame
For the propaganda we distain
The drummers keep on drumming
Whilst the soldiers find their hearts
The people in the Starbucks
Take to the pavement and begin to laugh
Because what you feel is freedom
And what we want is here
We won't win much approval
But for the oligarchs' deafened ears
This isn't a tidal wave with a destination
Because we've nowhere left to go
But the means becomes the reason when
You're surrounded by the flowers you wish to sow
I don't like to rhyme, but I did, I wrote this after an especially tame demo in London, I guess its about the intrinsic value of resistance, even when the odds are against you and even when it feels like you are just acting out a part in a massive theatrical puppet show that you've lost control of...
Like train tracks to the sky
The creator has a plan for this
But he forgot to let us fly
These people have a feeling
That makes them seem more strong
We all know hope is an atavism
That helps us get along
The placards are a noble lie
To keep the populace alive
The face on them is not to blame
For the propaganda we distain
The drummers keep on drumming
Whilst the soldiers find their hearts
The people in the Starbucks
Take to the pavement and begin to laugh
Because what you feel is freedom
And what we want is here
We won't win much approval
But for the oligarchs' deafened ears
This isn't a tidal wave with a destination
Because we've nowhere left to go
But the means becomes the reason when
You're surrounded by the flowers you wish to sow
I don't like to rhyme, but I did, I wrote this after an especially tame demo in London, I guess its about the intrinsic value of resistance, even when the odds are against you and even when it feels like you are just acting out a part in a massive theatrical puppet show that you've lost control of...
vegkiarusitas!
I've spent most of today contemplating my future, seems like I don't have many choices. I don't think I can survive on JA, I wouldn't want to, I don't like relying on others. The other thing is, I'm constantly aware that not everyone has the same cultural capital that I do, I'd feel like I was mocking these people if I took it for granted. Anyway, what kind of anarchist lives off state hand outs? Sooo... I'm considering just buying and selling shit on ebay to supplement a part time job. Its all money though innit, and it is all still exploitation. Makes me feel ill, makes me feel like I just want to hit the road and keep on going until I don't have to pretend to care about numbers and productivity. Thing is, I can't hack 9-5 work. In fact, I can't really deal with work at all unless it is work towards something that feels like its kinda authentic and positive and real. Work for the sake of work just makes me ask questions. Then I get into arguments.
Seems like maybe most work is based on humiliation, I feel humiliated at work anyway. Those who best internalise the humiliation do prety well for themselves and those that ruin the illusion get the sack. The bosses aren't there to work, they are there to maintain the illusion, there IS a team, we ARE doing something important and constructive. If you humiliate the bosses, you totally destroy the illusion, I guess thats my problem... Maybe i'm just an obnoxious little middle class prick that is too lazy to do anything for himself. I hope not.
Sorry this is hardly Down and Out in Paris and London but hey, I had to rant.
Seems like maybe most work is based on humiliation, I feel humiliated at work anyway. Those who best internalise the humiliation do prety well for themselves and those that ruin the illusion get the sack. The bosses aren't there to work, they are there to maintain the illusion, there IS a team, we ARE doing something important and constructive. If you humiliate the bosses, you totally destroy the illusion, I guess thats my problem... Maybe i'm just an obnoxious little middle class prick that is too lazy to do anything for himself. I hope not.
Sorry this is hardly Down and Out in Paris and London but hey, I had to rant.
insomnia/freedom
I've had a lovely weekend, seeing some faces n that. Watched a lot of films too, something I'd like to do more frequently. I thought of a bunch of interesting stuff that I should write about, but I was high and now i'm just tired and I have a headache. Maybe it can wait. I ordered the Benga album off of Amazon today, probably shouldn't be spending money but some things are too important to be rational about.
Anyway, here is the thing. We've got company. By we, I mean me. There is this little wanker of a mouse thats cotching in my room, he keeps running back and forth, poking his head out in this timid manner that would be kinda cute if he wasn't so annoying. Coy little rodent fuck. He'll pay. Obviously, not literally, but maybe in a karmic sense. Hopefully.
Anyway, here is the thing. We've got company. By we, I mean me. There is this little wanker of a mouse thats cotching in my room, he keeps running back and forth, poking his head out in this timid manner that would be kinda cute if he wasn't so annoying. Coy little rodent fuck. He'll pay. Obviously, not literally, but maybe in a karmic sense. Hopefully.
Thursday, 6 March 2008
fighting water
well, our tap has been limping for a while now and it just decided to call it a day, cue chaos. I was trying to boil water for tea. The kitchen decided to get vengeance, I think I deserved it, I don't treat our kitchen very well, too much mess. Anyway, I got covered in water, the tap broke, for good. Then there was just water, lots of it. I got the tea I wanted, but I also got a swamp for a kitchen and a slightly miffed landlord. Henry seemed to enjoy the spectacle, he lent a hand by snapping the copper mains tap using a wrench. Henry is a tough guy, tougher than me. He looks like Miyazaki's Totoro when he yawns, that means he must be tough. Tough enough to break a tap, possibly tough enough to fight the sea. I wouldn't fuck with him.
Wednesday, 5 March 2008
plenty, sister!
so, its nearly 4am, i'm not sure how. Turns out, spending the evening reminiscing about arnie films and Bruce Willis' singing career isn't the best way to combat your low productivity.
I've been thinking about olives. Apparently they are a fruit, or...they are to some. I think of them as a unique entity. An olive is an olive, a cherry is different.
Anyway, maybe things are grouped according to arbitrary biological distinctions. You need to think about fruit sociologically, understand the cultural context.
Then olives are just olives, not savoury cherries.
Much less stressful.
I've been thinking about olives. Apparently they are a fruit, or...they are to some. I think of them as a unique entity. An olive is an olive, a cherry is different.
Anyway, maybe things are grouped according to arbitrary biological distinctions. You need to think about fruit sociologically, understand the cultural context.
Then olives are just olives, not savoury cherries.
Much less stressful.
music, therapy
The Shape of Jazz to Come always makes the hairs stand up on my neck, when Ornette plays, sounds like he's making the sax laugh, going on journeys through the ocean, but always got an anchor, thats what I like about Ornette, he takes you places but he always knows where he is and he sure as hell knows where he's goin. The sax still sounds like laughter to me though and to be honest i'm in no mood for that. Maybe From Ashes Rise will help...
Monday, 3 March 2008
Hello
Hi, I've had this thing for a while but I've only just decided to start using it on a regular basis. Hitherto, my blog displayed cringeworthy pseudo-political rhetoric, sorry.
I guess this is all because I feel like i'm stuck in a rut and i'm not really being as productive or as creative as i'd like. I'm currently writing a dissertation about the non-hegemonic resistance in the post-Fordist economy and its kinda sucking all of my soul out, its good but I just feel like maybe its my only release and I could use something other than the view into my back garden and hourly tea making missions to occupy my dead time. So now perhaps some of the time spent procrastinating at this laptop will go towards something, anything, rather than just chasing my tail until I fall over.
I guess I was inspired to get out of bed (literally) and do something for two reasons.
1. The latest Burial lp, everything else by Burial, Kode 9 mixing Burial for the Breezeblock, reading interviews with Burial and just the whole aesthetic, I haven't been so inspired by a musician since...ever.
2. A Charles Bukowski poem called Roll the Dice, I've always felt an affinity towards Buk's characters and the language he uses, this one just seemed perfect right now. I can't be bothered to type it out, you should read it though, its nice.
The third mini-reason is JFK, but I don't want to talk about him.
Ciao
I guess this is all because I feel like i'm stuck in a rut and i'm not really being as productive or as creative as i'd like. I'm currently writing a dissertation about the non-hegemonic resistance in the post-Fordist economy and its kinda sucking all of my soul out, its good but I just feel like maybe its my only release and I could use something other than the view into my back garden and hourly tea making missions to occupy my dead time. So now perhaps some of the time spent procrastinating at this laptop will go towards something, anything, rather than just chasing my tail until I fall over.
I guess I was inspired to get out of bed (literally) and do something for two reasons.
1. The latest Burial lp, everything else by Burial, Kode 9 mixing Burial for the Breezeblock, reading interviews with Burial and just the whole aesthetic, I haven't been so inspired by a musician since...ever.
2. A Charles Bukowski poem called Roll the Dice, I've always felt an affinity towards Buk's characters and the language he uses, this one just seemed perfect right now. I can't be bothered to type it out, you should read it though, its nice.
The third mini-reason is JFK, but I don't want to talk about him.
Ciao
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