Wednesday: A musical interlude, selected for distant travellers with no place like home. (Aside - Fake Can Be Just As Good is my favouritest of the bunch) Click the numbers; I'm not sure how long they'll be up. Between 250mb and 300mb each zip.
1: Cat Power - Jukebox; Palace Music - Arise, Therefore; Avey Tare, Panda Bear - Spirit They've Gone, Spirit They've Vanished; Blonde Redhead - 23
2: Blonde Redhead - Fake Can Be Just As Good; Gomez - Bring It On; Bright Eyes - Cassadaga; Sonic Youth - Daydream Nation
3: Blonde Redhead - La Mia Vita Violenta; Denali - Denali; Joanna Newsome - Joanna Newsome & The Ys Street Band; Josh Ritter - The Historical Conquests Of Josh Ritter; Bright Eyes - Letting Off The Happiness
4: Sonic Youth - NYC Ghosts & Flowers; One AM Radio - A Name Writ In Water; Man Man - Six Demon Bag; Spoon - Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga; Yeah Yeah Yeahs - Is Is
5: Sufjan Stevens - Come On Feel The Illinoise; Sun Kil Moon - Tiny Cities; The Continental Op - Slitch Music; Joanna Newsome - The Milk-Eyed Mender
6: Jason Molina, Will Oldham & Alasdair Roberts - Amalgamated Sons Of Rest; Joanna Newsome - Yarn And Glue; Yo La Tengo - I Am Not Afraid Of You And I Will Beat Your Ass; Yo La Tengo - Prisoners Of Love; Joanna Newsome - Ys
Thursday, 17 April 2008
Tuesday, 15 April 2008
Gobliiins
Friday: Was bored out of my mind for many hours; it happens sometimes. I'd had a bad week, full of ups and downs, mostly my own fault but it seems like every time stuff goes wrong for me, the rest of the house seems to fall to pieces. Not related, just an unfortunate coincidence. I was in a mood where I craved company, any sort, and was disinclined to spend the evening at home doing nothing. To this end, I tried to get in touch with people, to see if anyone would come out. There's nothing worse when you're feeling lonely than to have everyone you call tell you they're busy. Eventually my brother asked if I would like to come to his girlfriend's house, as it would be her birthday on Sunday, and she was having a meal to celebrate it, and the fact that she was leaving the next day for Hong Kong.
Her housemates and a friend were there, polite middle-classes who have interesting jobs involving vaguely creative things. They seemed a bit put out by my brother, who is loud and brash and obnoxious and talks like a barrow boy when he's drunk. He got drunk. He also got tired, and told me I don't know what it's like to be tired, or stressed, or under pressure, because I have never worked a day in my life. It often becomes apparent that he thinks of me that way when he is drunk or tired. It seems a matter of pride for him that he thinks of me this way, as it makes his achievements grander, and diminishes my own successes, little though they may be.
Sunday: Dice Club again, first up, a band of 14 year olds, the lead singer wearing a white coverall thing, like police on a crime scene. He held up a book about dinosaurs and thanked Tesco. The music didn't make much sense to me. Next, a band called ddd, who were two men with a drum machine. They both played guitar, and the music was fast, furious, pretty good. The final act: Ulterior, formed of ex-members of The Jesus And Mary Chain. I don't remember much about the music, except that it was full of noise, and intense, and the man on stage was shouting, and there were flashing lights, and he kneeled in front of a flashing light and screamed into the microphone, and I lay on the floor behind the flashing light and took his picture, and I forgot where I was or what I was doing except that there was a camera in my hand and something vital happening in front of me and it was better than drugs or sex or booze. It felt like being taken away. It made me remember why I love to take pictures of music happening. It was good. Afterwards, a pretty girl from the audience wrapped herself around the guitarist and glued her face to his. It made me annoyed - that she should be there for that and not the music - but the night was a great one.
Monday: Dinner at Almeida, a new French restaurant. I had smoked salmon for starter, pork with mash and caramelised apple for main, creme caramel for dessert. The food was spectacularly good, and as good were the two bloody marys I had. The restaurant itself though was a bit uninspiring, looking like something you'd find on a cruise ship or first class airport lounge. Afterwards to Freuds for cocktails - I had a Yum Yum and a Cheeky Munky, feeling in the mood for milk cocktails. I liked the Munky more, and like the bar as much as ever. The music is forgettable and the crowd is often less than beautiful but it is nice, to sit in a little concrete room and drink good cheap cocktails.
Her housemates and a friend were there, polite middle-classes who have interesting jobs involving vaguely creative things. They seemed a bit put out by my brother, who is loud and brash and obnoxious and talks like a barrow boy when he's drunk. He got drunk. He also got tired, and told me I don't know what it's like to be tired, or stressed, or under pressure, because I have never worked a day in my life. It often becomes apparent that he thinks of me that way when he is drunk or tired. It seems a matter of pride for him that he thinks of me this way, as it makes his achievements grander, and diminishes my own successes, little though they may be.
Sunday: Dice Club again, first up, a band of 14 year olds, the lead singer wearing a white coverall thing, like police on a crime scene. He held up a book about dinosaurs and thanked Tesco. The music didn't make much sense to me. Next, a band called ddd, who were two men with a drum machine. They both played guitar, and the music was fast, furious, pretty good. The final act: Ulterior, formed of ex-members of The Jesus And Mary Chain. I don't remember much about the music, except that it was full of noise, and intense, and the man on stage was shouting, and there were flashing lights, and he kneeled in front of a flashing light and screamed into the microphone, and I lay on the floor behind the flashing light and took his picture, and I forgot where I was or what I was doing except that there was a camera in my hand and something vital happening in front of me and it was better than drugs or sex or booze. It felt like being taken away. It made me remember why I love to take pictures of music happening. It was good. Afterwards, a pretty girl from the audience wrapped herself around the guitarist and glued her face to his. It made me annoyed - that she should be there for that and not the music - but the night was a great one.
Monday: Dinner at Almeida, a new French restaurant. I had smoked salmon for starter, pork with mash and caramelised apple for main, creme caramel for dessert. The food was spectacularly good, and as good were the two bloody marys I had. The restaurant itself though was a bit uninspiring, looking like something you'd find on a cruise ship or first class airport lounge. Afterwards to Freuds for cocktails - I had a Yum Yum and a Cheeky Munky, feeling in the mood for milk cocktails. I liked the Munky more, and like the bar as much as ever. The music is forgettable and the crowd is often less than beautiful but it is nice, to sit in a little concrete room and drink good cheap cocktails.
Tuesday, 8 April 2008
Breakout
Friday: We have a little party in celebration of Rene getting older (not necessarily wiser but that's another kettle of fish). It involves blowing up 100 red balloons, with which to fill the kitchen; 100 multicoloured balloons, with which to fill the living room. Baking cakes, cooking food, stocking booze-shelves. Everyone is to wear a black hoodie. People start arriving at about 9; by 1am there's about 30 people in the house. I'm in the garden with some folks, and I'm introduced to our polish neighbour, who has been invited to climb over the fence and join our revellery. He is drunk; dancing away, like everyone else, he seems to be a bit grabby. I am not great with parties full of people who seem to think that the key to making me have a good time is grabbing me and pulling me into stupid conversations about if I'm having a good time, so I go up to my room for a while. A little later I hear commotion downstairs.
I went down; my housemates were animated, I asked what was up. Apparently the drunk Pole had gone into one of the rooms where a drunk girl was sleeping and fingered her until she woke up. When she did, and either screamed at him or told him to go away or whatever, he'd left. She'd left by the time I went downstairs, in tears. I went back to my bedroom, to be woken at 5am by the Pole bursting through the door. I was undressed on my bed, he took one look and said "sorry". I heard him go into some other rooms, then my housemates confronted him and took him down to the landing to explain himself. I got dressed and went down to watch. He spoke about three or four words of English, one of which was "sorry". I went to the kitchen to get a glass of water. When I came back up, they'd let him leave, begging them to be kind as he had a wife and child.
Sunday: The police came by to get statements from us about Friday. They'd arrested the man shortly before. I spoke to the lady from CID for a while, and pressed her about the possibility of becoming a police photographer. It's hard to say "I am not interested in it for the gore" without either sounding squeamish or a liar, but the truth is, I'm interested in it as a regular way to make money for a while, so I can buy equipment and hopefully save enough to make something of myself.
Monday: I went for a long walk along the Thames, starting around the Peabody Estate in Battersea. It was a nice, bright day, windy enough not to be hot. It was beautiful, wandering among the houses which seem like they fell out of the 40's. I thought about the possibility of doing police work; I thought about, if walking there by the Thames, being enchated by the fallen down powerstation and the crumbling estates is my idea of happiness, what should I do for friends? I thought of how I get obsessed with things, ideas, people, places, if it's always a bad thing, or rather, if it's something that's integral to me, how can I intergrate myself into society - I do like being around people, and I do like to see people happy and having fun, I'm just terrible at joining in - and I thought about time, and how the wind felt on my face, and these things. It was a pleasant day. I made up my mind to do something - anything! - contructive with the day. Since finishing on the book I was working on, I have had trouble redirecting my energies, my concentration. I ended the day bady because of that.
I went down; my housemates were animated, I asked what was up. Apparently the drunk Pole had gone into one of the rooms where a drunk girl was sleeping and fingered her until she woke up. When she did, and either screamed at him or told him to go away or whatever, he'd left. She'd left by the time I went downstairs, in tears. I went back to my bedroom, to be woken at 5am by the Pole bursting through the door. I was undressed on my bed, he took one look and said "sorry". I heard him go into some other rooms, then my housemates confronted him and took him down to the landing to explain himself. I got dressed and went down to watch. He spoke about three or four words of English, one of which was "sorry". I went to the kitchen to get a glass of water. When I came back up, they'd let him leave, begging them to be kind as he had a wife and child.
Sunday: The police came by to get statements from us about Friday. They'd arrested the man shortly before. I spoke to the lady from CID for a while, and pressed her about the possibility of becoming a police photographer. It's hard to say "I am not interested in it for the gore" without either sounding squeamish or a liar, but the truth is, I'm interested in it as a regular way to make money for a while, so I can buy equipment and hopefully save enough to make something of myself.
Monday: I went for a long walk along the Thames, starting around the Peabody Estate in Battersea. It was a nice, bright day, windy enough not to be hot. It was beautiful, wandering among the houses which seem like they fell out of the 40's. I thought about the possibility of doing police work; I thought about, if walking there by the Thames, being enchated by the fallen down powerstation and the crumbling estates is my idea of happiness, what should I do for friends? I thought of how I get obsessed with things, ideas, people, places, if it's always a bad thing, or rather, if it's something that's integral to me, how can I intergrate myself into society - I do like being around people, and I do like to see people happy and having fun, I'm just terrible at joining in - and I thought about time, and how the wind felt on my face, and these things. It was a pleasant day. I made up my mind to do something - anything! - contructive with the day. Since finishing on the book I was working on, I have had trouble redirecting my energies, my concentration. I ended the day bady because of that.
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