Has it really been that long since my last post? I am afraid recently my life has been dominated by moving flat and interesting developments at work which mean I have less free time than before. Anyway, those are topics for another day (if ever). I shall ease myself back into the game via the coward's route; a meme from Slaminsky.
1. PICK OUT A SCAR YOU HAVE, AND EXPLAIN HOW YOU GOT IT
Cut to Art class, circa 1984, my friend Neil threads his pencil through the hole that
they have for no apparent reason at the bottom of Stanley Knives. He begins to twirl the pencil around allowing the blade of the knife to rotate in a fashion that would years later become fashionable in the BBC series 'Robot Wars'. Unfortunately, Neil's grasp of physics was not what it should have been. The knife worked its way up the pencil, and with unerring inevitably, came flying off in my direction and sliced a nice gash on my jawline. Being friends and all, and not wanting to be a 'grass', I stuck some tissue on it, kept out of the teacher's way and now I have a tough looking scar.
2. WHAT IS ON THE WALLS IN YOUR ROOM?
Paint.
3. WHAT DOES YOUR PHONE LOOK LIKE?
If you mean the phone in the flat then it is a pretty horrible looking thing like this, only black. My mobile looks like this.
4. WHAT MUSIC DO YOU LISTEN TO?
All of it.
5. WHAT IS YOUR CURRENT DESKTOP PICTURE?
6. WHAT DO YOU WANT MORE THAN ANYTHING RIGHT NOW?
A holiday.
7. DO YOU BELIEVE IN GAY MARRIAGE?
I don't see why not.
8. WHAT TIME WERE YOU BORN?
No idea. But I do share a birthday with Cliff Richard.
9. ARE YOUR PARENTS STILL TOGETHER?
Yes.
10. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO?
It was Carl Craig, but now it is drilling and gunshots, typical Spanish Sunday morning fare.
11. DO YOU GET SCARED OF THE DARK?
No, that would make me a Jesse.
12. THE LAST PERSON TO MAKE YOU CRY?
Sting. His continued existence tends to affect me deeply.
13. WHAT IS YOUR FAVOURITE COLOGNE / PERFUME?
Don't wear after-shave (see Q11).
14. WHAT KIND OF HAIR/EYE COLOUR DO YOU LIKE ON THE OPPOSITE SEX?
Brown and brown.
15. DO YOU LIKE PAIN KILLERS?
In the sense that they bring relief from pain (sometimes), yes. In any other sense, no.
16. ARE YOU TOO SHY TO ASK SOMEONE OUT?
Of course, I am not American.
17. FAVE PIZZA TOPPING?
Things from the sea.
18. IF YOU COULD EAT ANYTHING RIGHT NOW, WHAT WOULD IT BE?
Oysters.
19. WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU MADE MAD?
My girlfriend.
20. IS ANYONE IN LOVE WITH YOU?
Yes.
Sunday, April 22, 2007
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
Don't Rain on My Parade
Bah! All my records are still in my Mum and Dad's loft in Liverpool. At the moment I don't have a record player because I don't have any records. I am not one of those MOJO reading, Dylan-loving, Techo-hating bores who whinge on about how vinyl is far superior to any other format because of its 'warmth' or 'realness' or whatever other Rockist nonsense people come out with. But, I do like vinyl for the simple fact that LPs, 12 inches and 7 inches in themselves are much more aesthetically pleasing objects than CDs. I need to get them shipped over, especially after stumbling across Rain Parade's legendary September 1985 Whistle Test performance on You Tube. The Waterboys appeared on the same program and played a rousing version of 'This is the Sea', a performance I had on a video that may or may not have been lost - further investigation on that subject is required. Anyway, I want my Rain Parade records (shipping costs permitting).
Saturday, March 03, 2007
Waits and Weatherall
I am sitting here watching Warp Vision, a collection of videos by artists from the label given to me as a birthday present by someone with excellent taste, and I have just realised that the promo for Sabres of Paradise's Wilmot contains more than a passing nod to the video for Tom Waits' In the Neighborhood.
Surely Weatherall - and former Jesus and Mary Chain bassist Douglas Hart who directed the thing - are too aware of such events for this to be a coincidence. Or am I just reading too much into it?
Surely Weatherall - and former Jesus and Mary Chain bassist Douglas Hart who directed the thing - are too aware of such events for this to be a coincidence. Or am I just reading too much into it?
Friday, March 02, 2007
The Wonderful and Frightening World....
The World really just doesn't make sense anymore. How can it when things like this happen? What next? John Lydon presenting 'This is Your Life', or Nick Cave reading the Shipping Forecast. I am off for a lie down.
Sunday, February 18, 2007
Podcast Number 1: 1981
Finally, I am able to present the much promised inaugural Podcast here at 'Trajectory'. If my speech seems a little - how can I put it? - slurred, the reason is that it was recorded rather late at night. I will allow you to draw your own conclusions from that.
I have chosen three songs, partly for reasons of brevity, and partly inspired by the late John Peel's habit of playing 'Three of the Best' by one particular artist on his Radio 1 Show in the 1980's. The three tracks I have picked are not all by the same artist, but they are all from the same year, 1981.
I thought picking songs from the same year would help narrow the choice - otherwise, where do you start? - and it would allow me to repeat the formula in the future and make it a little more interesting in terms of context. Maybe.
So here we are, 1981 - this is the bit where it gets all The Rock and Roll Years - I was 10 years old when the year began and 11 when it ended. A random selection of events in those 12 months saw an attempted coup d'état in Spain; inner city riots in several major cities in England; the death of IRA hunger striker Bobby Sands; Bucks Fizz winning the Eurovision Song Contest; a Royal Wedding; France abolishes capital punishment; Egyptian President Anwar Sadat is asassinated and last but not least, Craig David is born.
So, you can listen directly to 1981 here, or subscribe to the feed for this one and future podcasts.
I have chosen three songs, partly for reasons of brevity, and partly inspired by the late John Peel's habit of playing 'Three of the Best' by one particular artist on his Radio 1 Show in the 1980's. The three tracks I have picked are not all by the same artist, but they are all from the same year, 1981.
I thought picking songs from the same year would help narrow the choice - otherwise, where do you start? - and it would allow me to repeat the formula in the future and make it a little more interesting in terms of context. Maybe.
So here we are, 1981 - this is the bit where it gets all The Rock and Roll Years - I was 10 years old when the year began and 11 when it ended. A random selection of events in those 12 months saw an attempted coup d'état in Spain; inner city riots in several major cities in England; the death of IRA hunger striker Bobby Sands; Bucks Fizz winning the Eurovision Song Contest; a Royal Wedding; France abolishes capital punishment; Egyptian President Anwar Sadat is asassinated and last but not least, Craig David is born.
So, you can listen directly to 1981 here, or subscribe to the feed for this one and future podcasts.
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
Down Memory Lane
Just back from a lightning visit to Liverpool. Unfortunately, I did not have time to download this rather interesting Musical Tour of the City and then listen to the boy Wylie! guide me around my hometown via its rather impressive musical heritage. I spent most of the weekend in the pub.
Monday, January 22, 2007
2007 and Gigs are rubbish
2007 and one of several resolutions is to blog more. I have finally admitted defeat in my attempts to construct a template that has everything just where I want it and how I want it, and I have settled for a rather more stable and less ambitious version for the time being.
Anyway, reading today's Observer Music Monthly piece on 25 of the greatest gigs ever, I was reminded of just how little I enjoy 'live' music. Predictably, the likes of Bono trot out the usual guff about how the night he saw The Clash at Trinity College in 1977 was 'Year Zero. The shock of the new, where everything reconfigured.' Unfortunately, I cannot claim to have had any Bono-like experiences at gigs that turned me into Pol Pot, and I sadly have most sympathy for Damien Hurst when he confesses that, '..the favourite part of any gig I've ever been to is walking out at the end, or sometimes in the middle.'
It is not that I am getting old; the truth is that I never really liked gigs that much when I was younger. If I had done then I am sure that I would have gone to more of them. There have been concerts that I have enjoyed; Echo and the Bunnymen at the Liverpool Empire in 1987, Autechre upstairs in a pub in Sheffield in 1995 and Kraftwerk in Barcelona a few years ago. However, some have seemed longer than a compilation of Jimmy Page guitar solos. A particularly wretched Soul Asylum concert in the early '90's springs to mind (I was dragged along by a Canadian friend after I had press ganged him into coming to see Teenage Fanclub a few weeks earlier). They were drunk, abusive and incompetent, and I can still remember the relief when the house lights came on before they had a chance to return to the stage and continue the torture with more grunge-lite drivel.
Gigs go on for too long, are too expensive, the sound is always rubbish, and they are more often than not a huge let down. So, instead of going to concerts, I shall instead inflict upon the internet community a first podcast in the next few days or so, taking my cue from the prolific Slaminsky, as she suggested that I should further clog up cyberspace with some more music that nobody wants to hear when I bumped into her over Christmas. Clear your diaries.
Anyway, reading today's Observer Music Monthly piece on 25 of the greatest gigs ever, I was reminded of just how little I enjoy 'live' music. Predictably, the likes of Bono trot out the usual guff about how the night he saw The Clash at Trinity College in 1977 was 'Year Zero. The shock of the new, where everything reconfigured.' Unfortunately, I cannot claim to have had any Bono-like experiences at gigs that turned me into Pol Pot, and I sadly have most sympathy for Damien Hurst when he confesses that, '..the favourite part of any gig I've ever been to is walking out at the end, or sometimes in the middle.'
It is not that I am getting old; the truth is that I never really liked gigs that much when I was younger. If I had done then I am sure that I would have gone to more of them. There have been concerts that I have enjoyed; Echo and the Bunnymen at the Liverpool Empire in 1987, Autechre upstairs in a pub in Sheffield in 1995 and Kraftwerk in Barcelona a few years ago. However, some have seemed longer than a compilation of Jimmy Page guitar solos. A particularly wretched Soul Asylum concert in the early '90's springs to mind (I was dragged along by a Canadian friend after I had press ganged him into coming to see Teenage Fanclub a few weeks earlier). They were drunk, abusive and incompetent, and I can still remember the relief when the house lights came on before they had a chance to return to the stage and continue the torture with more grunge-lite drivel.
Gigs go on for too long, are too expensive, the sound is always rubbish, and they are more often than not a huge let down. So, instead of going to concerts, I shall instead inflict upon the internet community a first podcast in the next few days or so, taking my cue from the prolific Slaminsky, as she suggested that I should further clog up cyberspace with some more music that nobody wants to hear when I bumped into her over Christmas. Clear your diaries.
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