Monday, January 24, 2005

I am more than one person.

Friday, January 21, 2005

...and there are the times when I crave the minimalism, the purity, the sun streaming through large windows and hitting the polished wooden flooring. It's cold outside, but warm in here. In here I sit, coffee in hand, picking occasionally at the keys on a laptop, stopping sometimes to look at the breathtaking landscape apparent through the window. In here there is no one but I know there is everyone.

Thursday, December 16, 2004

...and it was with the last refrain of "This monkey's gone.. to.. Heaven" that I awoke again, staring at the computer screen, completely unaware of how long I had been staring for, or what I was (supposedly) doing before the entire incident began. There are slight pains in my shoulders, different from the pain I have come to accept in my back. I imagine that I've taken a bad tumble, ice-skating around an outdoor rink in downtown New York, at Christmas time. The lights are vivid yet strangely soft and subdued. A stranger is helping me up--I think they are my partner--either way I am in love with them.

Thursday, December 09, 2004

I seem to remember, in my frequent nostalgic visions, that my adolesence was largely dark, and took place mainly in the evenings. Not that there is a lack of daytime in my memories, but stuff then was late in the day.

A List Of Brief Comments About 5 Random Records...
...as selected by the iPod's randomiser.

Interpol - Not Even Jail
This sounds like half the length it is, looped twice. On closer inpsection, it isn't, there are intricate parts that fail to stick in the mind once it ends, but the shame is that these parts are what I enjoy most. I can't remember the position of this track on the album, it sounds as if it should be last, but the fade out would be disappointing if this is true.

The Music - Bleed From Within
This is one of the songs on Welcome To The North that is most overtly Led Zeppelin, especially in the "mine eye" line. It sounds like a record I vaguely remember from my childhood. It would be too easy to think of the Iraq war here, but the lyrics curiously shy me away from it.

The Microphones - Soundwaves
The pleasing thing about Tests is that all but every track lives up to its title, and every track as a whole lives up to the album title. As much as I'd be inclined to dismiss this a pointlessly avant-garde, in fact I enjoy the melody, the loops created from the sounds, and most of all, the uninterested, detatched voice.

The Smiths - There Is A Light That Never Goes Out
Too much has already been written of this record, but to me it brings back memories of current friends who I haven't spoken to for too long. If I had heard this record two years earlier I would now own all the Smiths t-shirts. I really must ring those old friends, and speak to them with this tune on in the background, on repeat.

Elbow - Asleep In The Back
Didn't this eventually make it onto the album of the same title in the later pressings? Or is this just a fantasy I've constructed, convinced that it should be so? It's fitting that this track ends this list, just as I can imagine it ending so many things--it's a Sunday afternoon alone track, a contemplating of where you are now, how you got here; more importantly, why you got here.

Wednesday, December 08, 2004

It has been, if my calculations are not in some way flawed (they normally are, I'm often in too much of a rush to execute the often championed "double check"), it has been exactly one hundred and fourty days since I last made some effort to post here--and the figure is increased by approximately another thirty days, should we be counting the content of said posts, recognising that June 20th to July 21st were nothing more than death throes, me desperately trying to hold onto something that I had initially prophecised would die at my own hands.

I forget now, what drew me back. I forget if I was going to say anything useful, entertaining, or interesting. I write most of these posts in my head, on the bus, or on the train. By the time I'm within the reach of a computer, they've gone, only shadows of their former selves.

But why all the gloomy talk, huh? If things are so bad, why are you writing again now? On here of all places? Do you want to achieve something, say something? Or do you just want to kill boredom, just like always?

Wednesday, July 21, 2004

I've been offered a new job, a proper job. I've found somewhere to live to facilitate getting to this new job. To balance this all out, nothing really makes much sense any more, epitomised by the impromptu a cappella version of "Man! I Feel Like A Woman" during a recent studio session.

Thursday, July 15, 2004

I'm looking for a place to live. Is that an excuse?