There's a lot I could write just now - but I'm somewhat hampered by a cut across my right index finger. I guess the knife was blunt enough to slide off of the onion, but sharp enough to slip into me. The research has been good, and varied, of late. All over the place, just the way I like it. And I feel close to making things again - that is, things of my own, rather than bringing my own sense of order to that which is the work of someone else (although that's fun and exciting in its own way, don't get me wrong). Sound, images....bits, pieces, and assemblages of all shapes, sizes, and colours. I'm beginning to see and hear them in my mind again. Ways of getting there, that will make the getting there worthwhile. Improvised blocks, stumbled upon, to stand alone, be combined, or worn and shaped into something else entirely. Maps to read, others yet to be drawn and followed, to who knows where.
"It was cheap, it was fun - go and do it". In many ways, it is now cheaper, more fun, and easier to go and do it than ever. And a lot of the time, that makes me feel like every one else is likely doing it, so why should I even bother? I lose sight of the fact that I'm never an entirely satisfied consumer - though goodness only knows how. Nobody should ever let the mass-media firehose drown out who they undoubtedly are - go ahead, critique the untouchable, challenge the undefeated, shoot the bulletproof....just because "it" is everywhere, your "it" is different from everyone else's, and therefore has an inherent value all of its own.
Jack of all trades? Jack of one trade? Better to be the jack of those that actually interest you, that strike a chord. Sure, some will call you a dilettante, an eccentric. So what? At least you'll be passing the time (at worst), and perhaps even happy (at best). Find your ways (you want more than one, trust me....seek and ye shall find).
I'm just asleep with my eyes open half the time - although I will admit that, every once in a while, it's exactly where I want to be.
More to come. Some sooner, and hopefully even more later. We'll see. </Andrew> <!--2/25/2008 09:19:00 PM-->
There has been a definite absence of sign-posts in recent times, despite much drifting in search of something to find a way - not the way, but some way. It's no good following arrows in one specific direction, only to find that they've taken you somewhere that turns out to be not what you were looking for. Although it's never too late to turn back, or take a detour. There's always time for that.
Progress isn't always easy though, when you don't really know where to go - or what you may do when you get there. You can always improvise - but that comes with risks. One of which is that other people can easily interpret your actions (or inactions) as something other than what you intended. Another that what can emerge is informed by your intentions, without actually being a clear or definitive statement on that intent. Just don't stick to the script - there's no solution in doing that.
Head to the shop for a map, and always end up coming back with something else instead. Probably the wrong shop. Probably the wrong day. Somewhere, the right shop exists. Barely any customers, but those who find it are glad to have done so, and return often, sometimes as often as they can. They know what it is. Others just pass by, not out of spite or intent, or even interest. Perhaps in a quieter part of town, on an unassuming back street. Modestly signed, welcoming. Some days, nobody comes in - the sign is turned to 'Closed', with a sigh. Though the emptiness is tempered with the knowledge that someone will be by soon. They'll all find it in the end.
No signs, no map, no shop. Though I haven't felt much like looking, or shopping, of late - which doesn't mean to say I haven't been thinking about it.
The shelves have been overwhelming. The media, massed, too loud and with so little to say, that it isn't even worth listening to in the background. If I did care, I'm beginning not to. But to tell the truth, I didn't, particularly, in the first place.
So I retreat, into spaces old and familiar, for now. Some good, some bad. The good ones can be great, and the bad ones can be awful. But at least their familiarity means you can remove yourself from them somewhat, and know exactly where you are, without continuing fear, or danger.
We're all heroes and villains. Both. Sometimes you call one, and the other comes running. You may admire one, though be better to know the other. Just remember they're mutually dependent. There'd be no heroes without villains, no villainy without heroics.
Wrap your troubles in dreams. Then make a list, and find a way. Not the way, but some way. Some way out of here. </Andrew> <!--1/13/2008 03:33:00 PM-->
Wednesday, January 02, 2008
<Andrew>
Time to re-awaken the blog, I think. Another year, after a bit of a nap.
The label he partly owned sparked my initial interest in independent music. And record collecting. And wanting to start a label of my own. He was one a handful key influences that made me want to work in broadcasting. Despite everything life threw at him, he remained rooted in his ideals. His politics, his geography, his reality. He said it how he saw it. He knew what he was (the film based on his life covers this wonderfully), and he was just fine with it.
In case you haven't figured it out by now, I am a worrier. For example....:
I worry that impatience and laziness have somehow crept wholesale into our present day existence, under the guise of "convenience".
Which is not to dismiss technology as a contrivance - more its sociological impact. Nor should it distract us from wanting to make the impossible possible, in a reasonable sense.
All this, from the person who wanted to study art (and was accepted - and should have accepted the acceptance, particularly over some elements of what proved to be the alternative), yet could never draw, paint, crayon, or anything else. I suppose I lived in a world of concept over object. Perhaps I still do. I really ought to care, and perhaps, tomorrow, I shall. But, for now, research (of the laziest kind, obviously). </Andrew> <!--8/06/2007 08:12:00 PM-->
Monday, July 23, 2007
<Andrew>
The initial reason for posting this, is because it's funny - it's what "The Soup" does best (should it be doing anything else?). But then, there is a somewhat darker, and more socio-political undertone to the humour. People will buy anything - particularly when it's marketed as an "escape". And carries a brand name they can identify with. Smart, very smart. These folks, and Chelsea Handler's shows, just go to show that even the E! network can be credible....albeit for 1 hour per week.
Lately, I am dogged by the feeling that maybe something so good isn't going to happen - perhaps to me personally (why else would I be feeling it?). I am usually far more of a realist, than a fatalist, or pessimist. Perhaps it's connected to all of the dark clouds that have been in the sky this past week - who knows? Maybe they're following me. Worries litter the paths I tread - mostly about this, or that. Searching aimlessly, accumulating dust, age, and weight (in all its forms), wondering if I've run out of people to fall out with....such is my track record. Sometimes more of a broken record.
Patience, persistence, pleasure, and pain. Each is a must for any researcher. I trawl for the facts, for the words, the information. I cast my net daily, and dutifully reel it in. Alas, sometimes it is empty, and sometimes so full, the abundance is but a waste of such riches.
Such is the nature of data - it may find you, sooner or later. </Andrew> <!--7/23/2007 07:37:00 PM-->
Thursday, July 12, 2007
<Andrew>
While Michael Moore's latest film, Sicko, about the health care (or lack thereof) of the United States, and other parts of the world (France, Canada, Cuba, and the UK), is a thoroughly excellent, insightful, and cleverly assembled piece of work - sad to say that even socialised health care systems, such as the National Health Service in the UK (with which I am very much familiar, as you may expect), have many faults and conflicts of their own - although I would say that these mostly appear to stem from the bureaucracy that would want to govern it, as opposed to the hospitals, and the people that staff them.
A case in point - I was most saddened to read today of the fact that Tony Wilson, former operator of Factory Records, and a figure in music, and the arts in general, who I have greatly respected for many years, has been refused permission by the NHS to obtain a drug (which his hospital doctors recommended) to prevent the growth and spread of the kidney cancer he was diagnosed with toward the end of last year. As such, he is having to obtain this privately, at a cost of GBP3500 (US$7000) per month, and is currently being assisted in doing so by a fund set up by current and former friends and associates. Very, very sad indeed, both for the man himself and his family, and as a reflection of what the NHS has become, despite the picture of perfection Mr. Moore paints in his film.
Something I found particularly moving, was Wilson's reason for never seeking private medical insurance of his own - "....because I am a socialist".
Don't get me wrong though. Of course I'd much rather be living within a society that had socialised medicine for its population, as opposed to one that seems so vehemently opposed to it - just as something, is always better than nothing. </Andrew> <!--7/12/2007 10:14:00 PM-->
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
<Andrew>
I had been wondering why my blog had been getting a lot of hits over the past few weeks, and why nearly every single one of them was coming from Canada. And today, I found the answer - I had, unwittingly, become tangled up in the phenomenon that is....Canadian Idol.
Thankfully, it looks as if he was voted off at the Top 18 stage....although perhaps if he'd won, I could have sold his record label the domain name for an exorbitant fee. Never mind.</Andrew> <!--7/10/2007 12:52:00 PM-->
Sunday, July 08, 2007
<Andrew>
Ladies & Gentlemen, may I present to you, from 1979 - the original blue screen of death!
Another uncertainty about 1970's Britain, and again, one I've written about before (albeit briefly), was whether there would be anything on the television. And, when I say "anything", I don't mean anything worth watching....I mean, anything - at all.
(A fantastic, and fairly thorough, overview of industrial action in British broadcasting can be gleaned here.)
And when ITV did come back, after strikes kept it off the air for over 10 weeks, from August to October of 1979, this is what they gave us (unearthed, of course, courtesy of YouTube....):
Thanks 2DPlay for allowing me to waste even more of my time with things like this....
And no thanks to the Swedish police/government for pulling low-down stunts like this. And not for the first time, even.
Been spending my time working, traveling (file under: "working"), reading and researching, as always. Generally avoiding the sunlight, in other words. Current areas of (re-)focus include analogue synthesis (this has been fairly mind-blowing in places....I am neither a musician, or an electrical engineer, so neither extended learning curve really works too well), and 'radical' art....in particular, from Britian, and even more so, from the 1970's and early 80's. When the dream died - someones dream, at any rate. And its reflection upon my past.
It makes me wonder about a lot of things. In a sort of "Where did we go wrong?" way. Though it's not all necessarily good - more about positioning really. Social, political, and geographic positioning. In particular, it conjures one image in my mind, one that is remembered, but somewhat faded around the edges. A lot my 1970's memories are like that. It is the image of the old council rent office in Burwash Road, on the Hangleton estate, where I grew up. It's been closed for a long time now - converted, ironically, into a flat that someone now lives in (I believe the upstairs part was always a flat, or offices or some sort). There was a small council works depot around the back - a couple of vans, some tools and bits, for the people that did the maintenance on the houses and streets. The rent office was a stark place, even for a government building (stark places) at that time (a very stark time). The outside, and inside, were painted in a cream paint that seemed to turn more yellow every time you saw it. Inside, the floor was bare and always rather dusty and dirty. In the autumn, the wind would blow leaves in, most likely from the park just along the road. There was a notice board, always covered in bits of paper, usually of the governmental (copies of the Rent Act, and so on) or public information variety - "Keep Rabies Out Of Britain", etc., and one about Colorado Beetles that I know I've written about before. It was not a very big space, internally, by any means, which was very oddly lit (almost too brightly, but that may have been the yellowing walls playing tricks on my young eyes), and was divided in two by a wall. At one end, nearest the door, there was a small counter, with a vented glass screen, behind which the cashier sat, in accomodations only slightly less bare and dusty than on the other side of the partition. You walked up a small flight of brick steps to get to the entrance, and above your head was the weathered old sign, that provided the only indication to those on the outside of what it was (everyone on the estate knew full well what it was, of course).
There didn't used to be as much graffiti around Brighton and Hove back then, compared to now, and what there was usually took some sort of political tone - whether on a local, national, or global level. Obeyance and resistance was everywhere, often side-by-side.
Coming back to positioning, though - you knew where you were. And you knew who you were, for better or worse. It didn't have to be a bad thing, and it gave you something to shout about, for or against. The Rent Office signified the availability of social housing - somewhere to live, for a fair rent, and without a private landlord. It also signified (working) class consciousness - something Margaret Thatcher (and Ronald Reagan) did so much to assuage....aiming to remove the "undignified" distinctions of class, which they saw as a stigma completely bereft of benefit, while raising the walls of class disparity to their highest ever levels (through efforts, such as utility privatisation, which made the rich even more wealthy, yet made the poor truly poorer....more than mere money, they lost their say, and their services).
It seems so much was lost, yet so much else gained, during the 1980's. The losses seem ideological, and often fundamental. The gains seem material, and technological. As new paths and distractions opened up, and allowed us to live, each day, as never before, did we allow others to become so overgrown and neglected?
History books are full of this stuff. And what remains of those lives, those years, and their changes, have become little more than footnotes. My mind will never recapture and re-focus all that I wish I could recall, and investigate, of what I remember of life then, and the whole torrent of circumstances that surrounded it. Uncertainty as to whether the electricity would go off, the buses were running, the post would be delivered, or the shops would have bread....
But it gave you something to shout about, for or against.</Andrew> <!--7/08/2007 09:31:00 AM-->
Monday, May 14, 2007
<Andrew>
Sometimes the very things which are there to assist, do nothing more than get you waylaid. All media form part of the problem (solution), and the internet, of course, is prominent among them, in the present tense. For people like myself, whose 'research' and interest is largely non-specific, and often without a predetermined focus, it presents something of a minefield. At best, you leap from trap to trap, plucking fragments of information from the jaws before they snare you. At worst, time passes, words and images pass by, yet nothing happens - boredom reigns, and boredom gains, on me. Actions are supposed to have reactions. I drop stones into puddles, and don't hear the splash, or see the ripples. Such are the perils of being an avowed generalist....wide open spaces. The specialists earn the big money, and can fill notebooks and auditoria with words on their chosen field - but they're ultimately boring. And likely almost as unfulfilled, outside of what their specialty can provide. I'm not saying the generalists are in some way 'right'. Or happier, or more popular - far from it, I should think. Merely that I've never been so driven or single-minded as to want to be a specialist. I don't have what it takes, and it wouldn't take what I have.
I have yet to hear any new (as in, 2007) music this year that has truly moved me - really made me stop in my tracks and listen, or engaged me to the degree that I know music can. It somehow sounds emasculated and emaciated - as if rock & roll has been quietly ousted from alongside sex and drugs, within the triumvirate of 20th Century vices.
Conversely, I've heard some great 'old' music this year - whether it be from recent reissues, or second-hand vinyl acquisitions.
And, funnily enough, as a general train of thought, I've recently been pondering the shock of the old, as it relates to the arts, and also in terms of general gesture. Can't help but think it comes back to stones and puddles again. Not just letting go, then listening, and watching....but the question of who is throwing the stones, and jumping in the puddles? It's as if people have no wish (more in the psychological sense, in addition to the physical one) to get their hands dirty, or their feet wet. We have a greater amount of history to reflect upon, and a far greater amount more information regarding that history, and an even greater amount of access to that wealth of information, than any of our ancestors ever had before us. Is it only serving to make us more apprehensive about picking a stone up, or making a leap?
While mailing a package earlier today, to avoid the long line at the Post Office counter, I used one of those fairly new automated postal machines. As many people doubtless know, one unfortunate aspect of these devices is that they contain a camera, which takes a picture of everyone who uses it. This picture is then linked to the log entry of your transaction, and the unique indentifier code printed on the mailing label you affix to your item. It's difficult to not feel some degree of paranoia about it, and to not think of some way in which you could circumvent its insistence on tracking what you do. We're practically forced to think of using only randomly purchased stamps for postage. And making visits to the Post Office after hours, wearing gloves and a balaclava, paying only in well worn coins....
During the skirmishes that led up to Communist uprising in Laos, both the government troops, and the rebels, were desperately short of money, equipment, even the will to fight one another. As such, presence became everything. The Pathet Lao took to using a tactic called the "lucky pebble" - nothing more than a rock with a note tied to it by a string. Some rebels would gather outside an army post, and the rock would be tossed over the surrounding wall, or fence. A government soldier, on hearing the stone land, would untie the string, and read the note, which would commonly say something to the order of, "This stone could have been a bomb. You would do well to surrender." And, very often it seems, they would. Defeated, by gesture alone.</Andrew> <!--5/14/2007 02:12:00 PM-->
Wednesday, May 02, 2007
<Andrew>
Simmering under the weight of expectation, and often aimless self-education. What am I getting out of it? Junk mail - in both electronic, and paper variants? Waiting. Thinking about the book that we perhaps all should write. The one that explains who we are, and what we do, and why we do it. Something that we could all offer, tout, and distribute to others as the need to took us, in order to give us an extra foot in the door. Anyone seeming unsure, or those we'd like to be more certain. Seems though like it'd all end in tears (boxes of them, unopened, under the bed or in closets), or be mistaken for some sort of religious pamphlet. Trust organised religion to make people wary, even of free stuff (junk mail?).
The cul-de-sac - only one way out. The way you came in. Then, adding water to whisky - there's no way. Half again may skim the finest edge from one, yet a drop could drown another. A long walk with no map. A trail of ruined drinks, strewn like malted breadcrumbs, to help you find your way back - preferably via an alternate route with better scenery.</Andrew> <!--5/02/2007 09:22:00 PM-->
Saturday, April 28, 2007
<Andrew>
Despite having begun this year with a marked desire to want to spend more time writing, in some shape or form, I have actually probably written less this year than during any other since learning to write. I often seem to approach it as a task too difficult, or heavily weighted, to approach at any given time, or something that I do not particularly want to do at the times that present themselves for me to do it. I have no desire for it to become something that is not enjoyed, or that does not occur with some degree of a natural process. Like any form of expression, it should not be forced. It does not need to be over thought, or too heavily laboured - and there lies a lot of the fault, a lot of the faults. The point at which the ground begins to crack, the paper to fray and tear. Like a musician searches for the lost chord, the golden section, the artist for the colours and shapes in their mind - there is no perfect sequence, amount, or order. There is no winning word.
(Reaches for metaphors - plenty within touching distance):
You can't win the lottery if you don't buy a ticket. A ticket costs, say, a dollar, a pound, a unit of your currency. The risk is relative - for some the financial risk involved is higher than for others, but the thought process is the same. You've got to be in it to win it. Speculate (words) to accumulate (text). The mechanism behind the lottery does not discriminate, or is, at least, supposed not to, but I will leave any such conspiracy theories aside for now. Purchasing further tickets only superficially increases your odds (many words, or few words - it's all still communication, and it's only opposite is non-communication). There are no marked cards or fixed ballots, no 6 perfect lottery numbers - a sequence that is destined to appear with any more frequency than others. Research, on a personal level, is more likely to inform your choices than anything else (days of the week, months of the year, birthdays, ages, lucky numbers, etc. - our personal mythology, in other words). Experiments, based upon that research, will ultimately prove how useful the research was - but even participating in such experiments highlights the worth of conducting the research. We may not scoop the jackpot, but we have not failed. Similarly, there is no perfect sequence of words - all words are equal within the greater pool of words, draining into the ocean of language, whose tides ebb and flow against the coasts of interaction, fringing the land masses of humanity.
Letters, numbers, symbols. If we don't use them we don't take risks. All risks are relative to the individual. All individuals possess personal mythology. The past is done. The tree fell, and someone heard it. The numbers were drawn, whether you bought a ticket or not.
Someone may have slipped a ticket into your pocket. </Andrew> <!--4/28/2007 09:29:00 AM-->
Monday, April 09, 2007
<Andrew>
And so, the blog has moved - somewhat (skipping from one domain, to the other), and has lain dormant for a while. Not ignoring you - just not saying anything. Which is something completely different. As is having nothing to say, which is also not the case. The impetus is what's been missing. There are words, but no reason, and not much focus.
I don't like it when I don't write though. Because I really ought to be. I rarely realise this, but when I do, it's usually enough of a jolt to get me to actually do it for a while afterwards.
I should probably be writing about music. I've done it before. I should probably be writing about any things that I like, really. I could occasionally touch on that which is tolerable, and trust that people would know that I do not like something if, at some point, I do not mention it. That way, I won't have to whine about them. Which is not to say I shouldn't complain. The world isn't fair, after all. And it isn't fair because you/I/they don't control it. We only control ourselves. We control our input, and we control our output. Some kind of input should produce some kind of output, or so says science.
The small print: I am not an enlightened participant. I just participate. I am not an informed consumer. I just consume. I am not a writer. I just write. But never underestimate research, experience, or connections. All data is relative. So how does it relate?
As individuals, the odds are stacked against us. Six billion to one. We're already failing, and it's destined to continue. Fortunately, such a reasoning conspires to make everything which is not a failure, into some kind of success.... </Andrew> <!--4/09/2007 09:00:00 PM-->
Things are starting to happen (although slower than perhaps we would have liked) over at The Phonographic Society....so much still to do to. Such grand, yet austere, plans. It's all about the music. That, and I have my Saturday evenings back, which has been almost unexpectedly nice.</Andrew> <!--2/11/2007 10:43:00 PM-->
Monday, January 29, 2007
<Andrew>
The playlist from the last ever Curious-Blue on KAOS Radio, is now posted over here. The future begins today. Well....it started about 8.01pm on Saturday, really.</Andrew> <!--1/29/2007 05:57:00 PM-->
Sunday, January 21, 2007
<Andrew>
Two pieces of toast (for the pedantic, Islands Bakery Oat & Wheat Berry). Left slice - thinly sliced Fontina cheese, with fresh Thai basil leaves. Right slice - thick cut orange and ginger marmalade. No butter, no condiments, cup of Typhoo tea on the side. Simple pleasures....
And, in other food and drink related news, North Coast Brewing's "Old Rasputin" has a new challenger in the heavy-like-lead stout arena....Deschutes' "The Abyss". Stuffed with licorice and molasses, then aged in French oak barrels. 11% alcohol, 22 ounce bottle, sealed (very appropriately) with black wax. My tip with this is to buy two - drink one now, and put the other in a cool, dark place for about a year, or longer if you can stand it. Previous experiments with such beverages indicate it'll be worth every day of our restraint.</Andrew> <!--1/21/2007 12:08:00 PM-->
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
<Andrew>
So, it's official - the very last edition of Curious-Blue on KAOS Community Radio, 89.3FM, will occur on Saturday, January 27th. It's been a long old ride, and it's never been anything less than a pleasure to share music and thoughts with people, in the simple hope that they may enjoy it.
It's been anything but fun to put up with certain things about KAOS though, and so I really think it's time to do something different. Something where I can continue with what I was doing before, in a more '21st Century' kind of way - online, accessible on demand....but still good music, available for whomever may want to discover and listen to it.
So, coming soon will be a new website, to compliment this existing one (which, just like this blog, is not going away), to play host to this new endeavour:
What is the The Phonographic Society? Is it a club, some sort of library, a comment on modern existence? Sort of all 3 really. Records have never gone away, and even if they ever were ever completely killed off, music would continue to exist, in some other form - even in virtual forms like downloads, where the subject is divorced from the object. We're surrounded by sounds - they're everywhere. We're all part of society, therefore we're all part of The Phonographic Society....
Oh, and er....*cough*, we're on MySpace now too. And yes, we hate MySpace. But we've learned to live with it, so we may as well dive in:
This selector needs to keep selecting. What's your selection? Won't you select with me....?</Andrew> <!--1/16/2007 02:51:00 AM-->
Friday, January 05, 2007
<Andrew>
Despite it being the very antithesis of everything I would claim to represent about the world of music, I have been unable to shift the whistling refrain to Scorpions' "Wind Of Change" from some region or other of my skull. No, I haven't taken leave of that last bit of my senses - it mostly stems from my wise-cracking with Mr. Vengeance about all the changes looming over me since the New Year (although, in truth, they actually all existed previous to Janaury 1st). And it's mostly not the song itself that's the source of the humour - more the way it was referenced in an episode of "Brass Eye" (and one which after many years, and many viewings, still remains pointedly funny). And, oddly enough, the wind is howling away outside again, the rain lashing down with it too, by way of accompaniment. In fact, I should type this a little faster, as the lights keep flickering (still a bit nervous about such things after last months 4-and-a-bit days without power - as are most other people who live hereabouts!).
Anyhow - winds of change, that's where we were. They're blowing through work, through my creative outlets, through my thinking (when I let them) - pretty much everywhere. So it's too bad that a lot of the actual minute-to-minute of 2007 so far has felt like '2006 Part 2 - Electric Boogaloo'. But not all of it - to say that would not be strictly fair. Either way, I'm still fairly happy, even while others may still be making up their mind. Not there's anything wrong with pauses for thought - sometimes mine last for months (regular readers will be all too aware of this....).
Watched some TV for the first time in ages this evening - not been able to hack it for much longer than a few minutes these past few weeks. Wherein there was some inspired back-to-back comedy from BBC America ("Black Books", which I'm usually not all that fond of, but loved tonight, running into two episodes of "Spaced", which can be hard to keep up with, as it's often hilarious in several different ways simultaneously), flowing straight into the Friday night love/hate-fest that is "The Soup" - which has been steadily gaining in appeal, and admiration from me, despite the obvious paradox of its very being (the show it's OK to love, on the network you'd really love to hate - and often do. Except there's other networks that are actually far worse. And it's not all that bad from time to time. Did I just write that?).</Andrew> <!--1/05/2007 11:44:00 PM-->
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
<Andrew>
Happy New Year. 2006 was shown the door, and it wisely retreated. No, there will be no formal resolutions from me - surprise, surprise. You really ought to know how I feel about goals by now. Trust though, that there will be some action(s) in 2007. I've been thinking, I've been plotting. And perhaps for once, I'll actually deliver. That's confidence for you. My hope is that creativity and joy will find us all, and that when they can't, there will at least be some form of relaxation/sedative on hand to assist, until such time as they seek us out again....and they always do.</Andrew> <!--1/02/2007 10:33:00 PM-->
Wednesday, December 27, 2006
<Andrew>
While I'm sure that a few of you (I am aware that may be an exaggeration) are enjoying the comparative glut of postings I've been crafting here of late - do remember that this is a time for reflection. Which is not to say I'm about to let you down again - but what else is a fella supposed to do with the last few days of the year? The dead space at the end of 2006, while we wait for January 1st, so that we can not only do something, but gain renewed license to feel good about it too. Chalk it up as a goal, an improvement, a step forward, in spite of the rain, the cold, and the darkness.
The fact is, change happens. Sometimes it is obvious, and welcomed - other times it is invisible, or dreaded. Some believe in coincidence, some in fate. Change is everywhere. Be sure that you cannot hide from it.
Having been absent from the news for a couple of days, I only found out this morning about the death of James Brown. Through all of his ups and downs, for better or worse, one fact remains - that the rest of us will always have to make do with being Soul Brother # 2....</Andrew> <!--12/27/2006 10:35:00 PM-->
Saturday, December 23, 2006
<Andrew>
Moving slowly towards the new social-ism. 2007 may yet be the year of the charm offensive, although - as it's me - it will also be littered with offensive charm....
Some words that I'd had in my head for a long time (where they were doing no good whatsoever, obviously) recently appeared in a christmas card I received - "I always consider you a good friend, even if we go months without chatting". This is not something unusual for me, and it's not something I'm terribly proud of, even though I couldn't care less most of the time, and would rather exist solely in mine, B., and Moggy's little fortress....plotting, bonding, researching. I either care if the outside world is there, or I don't - that's the rather blunt truth of it, in black and blue. I sometimes think I'm heartless, and I'm glad that other people usually (yeah, usually) disagree. Because then I can forget about it for a while, and move on to tomorrow.
Last night, Myself and Mr. Vengeance partook of our own (second annual, even) holiday party - celebrating not only that we have a few days off work, but also that it's time to reflect, and project. Tango whiskeymen are we - negotiating the hidden pathways of the mind, by Bushmills and Snow Cap.
On the record player, in t'other room, while I type - Jeanne Shy, "Night Dancer" (RSO 12", 1979). Another 99 cents worth of glittering pleasure, and one which people who know me well, would find rather appropriate (and amusing).
On the iPod recently - Downtown 81 and TV Party. Cannot lose the images of New York City, gaunt and hollowed out (much as London appears in countless late-1970's episodes of "The Sweeney"), or of Arto Lindsay, playing guitar as if the strings were shearing off his fingers, one by one, and singing as if he's crunching on his own teeth, then spitting pieces of them out.
(Incidentally, Brinkfilm has some choice footage of DNA peforming live at their site - unfortunately, as it's a fairly low bit-rate stream, the sound suffers greatly....)</Andrew> <!--12/23/2006 12:20:00 PM-->
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
<Andrew>
Did 2006 merely consist of my ever-hastening descent into utter disco/punk/experimental/art mayhem? Surely not. Cannot I also be seen regularly jaywalking out East, whilst occasionally wearing ill-fitting suit jackets....?
Did Time Magazine name "You" as their Person Of The Year, out of laziness, or respect? I guess only "we" can decide, by way of a paradox. I suppose it depends on who you trust.
Expect more before the end of the year, lest the date should expire on my thoughts....</Andrew> <!--12/20/2006 08:06:00 PM-->
<Andrew>
Top 20 tunes of 2006, in some sort of order, but no particular one....:
Padded Cell - Konkorde Lafayette (DC Recordings) Blackbelt Andersen - Snake Eyes (Full Pupp) Agora Rhythm - Crossroads (Nite Grooves) Emperor Machine - Bodilizer Bodilsizer (DC Recordings) Cro-Magnon - Galactic Mellow (Jazzy Sport) Rondenion - Outer World (Still Music) Studio - Life's A Beach (Information) A Made Up Sound - Late Drive (Philpot) Fat Camp - Wanna Be (Popular People's Front) Beatfanatic - Broken Descarga (Soundscape) Digital Mystikz - Ancient Memories (DMZ) Escort - Karawane (Escort) The CJ & O Band - J'Ouvert (Electric Souls) Italoboyz - Bubble & Click (Einmaleins) The Haggis Horns - Traveller (Part 2) (First Word) Innocent Sorcerers - One Dollar Race (Raw Fusion) Manmade Science - Difunkt (Philpot) Justus Kohncke - Overhead (Kompakt) Lexx - Slow Burning (Bear Funk) Lindstrom - The Contemporary Fix (Feedelity)</Andrew> <!--12/20/2006 06:06:00 PM-->
Clayton Way. The End. March 15th, 1973 - December 18th, 2006. 33 years, 9 months, and 3 days of memories....</Andrew> <!--12/18/2006 06:44:00 PM-->
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
<Andrew>
"I am still alive" - On Kawara (as referenced elsewhere).
The end of the year approaches like a train about to smash into the buffers at the end of the line - that's really what it feels like. Winter has bought darkness and cold, and I've felt it when and where I've been paying attention, but some days I just feel enveloped in a fog....a fog partially consisting of memories, of hopes, of thoughts, and - very occasionally - the actual day-to-day of my existence. The food that I eat at least resonates (been making Moqueca lately, and doing fairly well), as do the ever-tempting winter beers that permeate the frosty shop shelves of the Northwest at this time of year. The usual favourites hold their own (Deschutes Jubelale, Alaskan's entry with the spruce tips, the ever-ace New Belgium, and 1-2 knockout of Lagunitas' heavyweight Brown Shugga), and it's just as well, as there seems to be a shortage of fresh challengers this time around.
Also in the process of beginning to mail out holiday cards - and with most of them going overseas, now really is the time to get going on it, too (before you all think I'm crazy in yet another way). Despite the fact that I try to make it all as un-production-line-like as possible, that is always what it seems to turn into. A stamp here, a label here, some writing here and here, lick there, press, and out the door it goes, thank-yer-veh-much. Being so far away from family, the receiving of cards on festive occasions holds a good deal of importance, regardless of where they come from. It just means something to get one, and to give them too. It's an easy thing to overlook, but it's nice to see them around the house, and to know that someone, somewhere still remembers you. No matter how hard I try to make it for them.
So - there you go. I'm offically not ignoring the blog anymore, and bothering to drag my lazy backside to the keyboard to do something other than researching old disco records that only 3 other people (and, yes, that may be an exaggeration) on the planet care about, and be passingly sarcastic to people. Or write e-mails to which people do not respond. Or listen to mixes, mixes, mixes, especially if they're interesting.
And, speaking of mixes....well, more about mixes later. I have a plan.</Andrew> <!--12/06/2006 09:50:00 PM-->
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
<Andrew>
Been without internet for the past couple of days (thanks Comcast, he said sarcastically) - not that there's anything much to say, and not really anyone much to say it to, even if I did. Careering headlong toward the end of the year. Creeping darkness, and yielding to the routine. Rain, rain, rain.</Andrew> <!--11/14/2006 09:11:00 PM-->
Sunday, October 01, 2006
<Andrew>
Long time no post - sorry. Have been away. Am back now. More to follow. (Picture - in the blur beneath Old Street, Sept. 2006. By way of contrast, here is the very first picture of myself at an Underground Station - Oxford Circus, Feb. 1989....just goes to show what 17-and-a-bit years can do).
It would be fairly easy to write yet another letter to KAOS, and make a case for changes for the common good. To point out further instances of the lack of respect and fairness shown to the experimental/indie/other programming, in the face of the pats on the back, and praise all round, for the folk, blues, country, and jazz shows. Shows that are 'easy' in more than one sense of the word - easy listening, largely non-challenging in format and content, and available elsewhere on the radio dial (or internet) in similar forms. I'm not saying the hosts of those shows don't bring their own knowledge and talents to bear - they most certainly do - but their efforts are applauded, and written about, and singled out for attention at every opportunity, despite the long-standing innovation, commitment, self-promotion (KAOS sure as hell isn't going to do it for us), and constant movement in the pursuit of ideas of countless other volunteers, whose only 'crime' is to passionately love music that they don't like. Ideas and innovation that benefit KAOS, and have thoughout its history - remember, it's forward thinking, and new, unique approaches that earned it the historical significance it claims to hold so dear. We should be striving to be different, not the same. But the fact is, KAOS as an entity is not striving at all - individual volunteers are striving for their own survival, but that's about it. Plus, when it comes down to it, friends and allies who have departed the station over the past few years, have stated these very same points repeatedly, to no effect or avail. No love, no respect, no caring, and no clue about what it is we're trying do. Yet none of their feedback bought about an improvement in this situation, which is rather sad really, and defeated the object having been asked to provide it in the first place.
Locally, there's shrinking contributions and listenership to contend with, yet a huge untapped new community of online listeners potentially exists, who are for the most part frankly ignored, or treated as something of a minor inconvenience (remember the DMCA? KAOS does, worse luck).
Then, there's the identity crisis - KAOS is far more a Freeform Radio station, than it is a community radio station. Yet some at the station find that word 'freeform' so problematic - they take it too literally, and feel that it implies utter chaos. Chaos at a station called KAOS? Perish the thought - what would people think? (truth in advertising, perhaps?) KAOS is freeform in format, in content, in ideals (allegedly) - in everything but name and affiliation, in fact. And that we're turning the other cheek to stations like KDVS, WFMU, international outlets like Resonance FM, and countless others like them, is hurting us....truly limiting our reach, our potential, our profile. The leadership seems resigned to the fact that the station has lost the stature it once held, in this age of technology, and 24-hour global media. So why have the stations I've mentioned above made it work? Even if we could make some small steps towards this, that would be something....
Not that there is any kind of plan for the future (even the near future) to improve upon any of those factors. No goals, no milestones, no clear agenda - not even a written rule book, or any semblance of unity. Except for disaffection, and this weird compulsion we all seem to share for showing up every week to try to do the best radio shows we can, for free, in our time.
And still they don't respect us?
Yes, this would have made a nice letter to the Powers That Be. But I'm tired of being the dissenting voice. There are others within the KAOS volunteer ranks currently, and formerly, who agree with these basic points, though they obviously have their own, more clearly defined opinions - I can't speak for them. So what I would encourage them to do, is share those thoughts with station staff, volunteers, listeners - whether directly, or indirectly. In any way they can, any way they feel like.
My cards are on the table. But you knew that anyway.</Andrew> <!--8/24/2006 10:39:00 PM-->
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
<Andrew>
No movement, no updates. Sometimes I think I could just sleepwalk through my days and no-one would notice, not even me. Sometimes it's disheartening to be an under-utilized resource - to feel that there's little-to-no use for this knowledge that I've acquired, and precious few people to discuss a lot of it with even. I suppose that's what outlets like this blog are for. But it only helps sometimes, and occasionally, not at all. There's so much I could be doing....but I can't even remember the last time someone even asked. For a piece or writing, a piece of music, an idea, a contribution. All the while I'm just throwing things out there. They could be tickets to somewhere new, for discovery. Or paper aeroplanes in flight. Or countless messages-in-bottles, tossed into an overflowing sea of data. Internet as landfill anyone....? Discuss.
By the way, 1995 just called, and asked MySpace to give AOL the very worst of its generic pap-crap content back. Would someone please oblige? Please?
Yes, I need to punch my way out of the paper bag. Does it show?</Andrew> <!--8/22/2006 09:41:00 PM-->
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
<Andrew>
I am frustrating myself this week - it's all I can do to avoid just going to bed, and pulling the covers over my head. I seem to flip-flop between action, and inaction. Ideas and apathy. Progress and stasis. The old highs and lows, again.
I had some thoughts toward expanding on some recent interests, into the form of an article for the KAOS Program Guide - as it has been some years since I've written one, and there's rarely anything in there that I find to be of anything more than fleeting interest. So rather than idly complain, I thought I'd better pick up a pen. I had several possibilities in mind, and ended up pursuing some threads from my recent post regarding cassettes. However - and I knew this full well - this is a subject upon which it is nigh on impossible to just scratch the surface....as it rapdily collapses under you, creating caverns of possible reference. In all fairness, it's a subject that deserves a hefty book to be written about it (and a book, I might add, that casts the net a good deal wider and deeper than the informative, but woefully limited, "Cassette Mythos"). It's something I would gladly pursue even, were I able to devote enough time and energy to the project, due to the backing of an extremely patient, supportive, and generous publisher. So no chance of that, then! I have but a genuine love and enthusiasm, a certain way with words, and something to type on....and that's enough for a lot of people (as it is for me, in miniscule, non-specific doses - such as these blog posts!). I am too much of an explorer and researcher, and a rather lousy editor. A regular Mr. Extended Remix, that's me. There's something to be said for strictures and discipline (of the right sort....).
Conversely, I so rarely have anything much to say these days. And when I do say things, I occasionally find myself wondering why it is that anyone would want to listen? Either way, people probably just think I'm weird. And for different reasons. I should just make them all mix-tapes....then they would know that I'm weird, rather than just having vague suspicions.
I never set out to be evasive, you know. It just happens. Even when I try not to.
Not a lot of great new music around at the moment - I think everyone's gone off on holiday or something. A lot of great re-issues of old music around though, fortunately, plus plenty of stuff from the last few years that are well worth dusting off for a Summer outing. I need a more orderly system of organizing my vinyl though, I think. That particular lightbulb flickered into life again a few weeks ago, after spending about 20 minutes looking for one specific record to play on my show....working up a fair old sweat, and almost missing the bus to take me out there, in the process.</Andrew> <!--8/16/2006 09:55:00 PM-->
Friday, August 11, 2006
<Andrew>
I'm considering some changes to the radio show, in terms of the breadth of its musical content, to keep things fresh, challenging, and a little less 'fixed' - and throughout its history, such changes are nothing new. In actual fact (and by way of proof, you might say), it made think about giving this old article of mine a reprint (it actually used to live somewhere on this website, back in 2003!), as it applies to this concept of renewal, and rubs shoulders rather nicely with my thoughts on cassettes from yesterday. Maybe you've seen it before, maybe not - in any case, here it is again. A glance to the past, with a nod to the future....:
Persistence Of Listening - Some thoughts on contemporary electronic music. Written 27th-28th May 2001.
Originally published in the KAOS Program Guide, September/October 2001.
KAOS, Olympia Community Radio, for those who know it within the community, is a radiophonic by-word for musical difference. Sometimes that difference amounts to hearing locally produced music, a performer from halfway across the world, or fair representation for artists on smaller, independent record labels. But sometimes "different", at least on the surface, appears to present more of a challenge. As some of you may know, I present a program called Curious-Blue, with a focus toward contemporary electronic music (for want of a better term), and music, which, to varying degrees, has had an effect on how it has arrived at where it is now, and how it may proceed. Ever since the show began, in December 1997, I've received numerous telephone calls from listeners while on the air, with regard to the music playing at that particular time. Some are enthused, others in disbelief, others still quite furious. The basic attraction/repulsion generating this revenue for our local telephone companies usually stems from music, which would perhaps be considered by many people to fall under the heading of "experimental". Yet it is not at all easy to categorize, or describe the music that stirs up these emotions, and that is the main reason I decided to write this article-not to attempt to offer an "explanation", nor an "excuse", but to extend a hand, so that perhaps you may wait a little while before you reach for the volume knob on your radio (whether you intend to turn it up, or off), in the hope that what at first may just appear to be sheets of static coming over the airwaves, or a high-pitched tone interspersed by cavernous rumbling, could prove to be just a fragment of an object far larger in size, and more complex in shape.
There are many things to consider when you hear just about any piece of music, or for that matter, any sound. How were the sounds made? What inspired someone to produce, or gather these sounds? What were they thinking of? Do I like/dislike what I am hearing? Most "experimental" music, electronic or not, has a particular concentration of these thoughts, and many others, behind it. To give an example, two artists could arrive at what may appear to be a similar musical result, with completely different intentions, using different equipment, and completely different composition methods. Yet, two others could pursue a similar aim, yet end up sounding the polar opposite of one another. Technology and computers, free improvisation, varying methods of composition, political and theoretical thought, the musical heritage of ancient peoples, the sounds of the world around us, and much more besides, all may have a role in informing the outcome. This, in part, is what has driven my own enthusiasm for this music. You never quite know what you're going to get, or what you're going to make of it this time around. But the chances are, you'll learn something from it regardless, even if, upon the tenth listening, the thing that you've learned is that it really isn't something you like. Persistence though, is something that definitely pays off.
A few of the comments that I often hear leveled at music of this kind, are that it's too repetitive, or too fragmented, that it doesn't go anywhere, and even that it just all sounds the same, noisy and garbled. To take the first two of these points together, repetition, or fragmentation of rhythm has always been inherent in the structure of music, one obviously being the inverse of the other. Some musicians will want to base their music around a tightly organized rhythm, finding a groove and locking into it, while others will want to operate free of such constraints, and see where it will lead them. Both methods, even when pushed toward their extremes, are equally capable of producing engaging, often entrancing music. A sound with a pulse, whether steady or not. Pieces that at first listen may not appear to go anywhere, may actually already be where they wanted to go. Minute shifts in pitch, rhythm, or timbre, often characterize these passages, some more perceptibly than others. Of course, sometimes the point may very well be to not go anywhere, but to stretch a sound out, toward a logical breaking point, or in blissful ignorance of it. It's also worth noting the precedents to such sounds that exist in nature, birdsong and rainfall being two I immediately think of, as have many composers and performers over the course of history. And what of the influence of the world's traditional and ethnic music, the complex arrangements and resonant tones that come from Asian percussion ensembles, such as the Indonesian gamelan, for example? Noisy and garbled some of this music may be (and what is wrong with a little garbled noise in our lives, like our telephones, cars, televisions, and other mechanical/electrical gadgets? Do I need to go on?), but it is physically impossible for 2 pieces of music to ever be the same. Of course similarities do exist, but they are only ever superficial. You may not think it, but even if you listened to the same song, from the same CD, twice in a row, the second time you heard it would not be the same as the first, for any number of reasons. Perhaps, during the second time, you scratched your ear, a police car drove past the window, or you altered the volume slightly. All of these things would have had an effect on what you would have heard. All in all, within many of these criticisms lies the very energy that propels music, and the "experimental" artistic ethic. It's worth remembering that however prickly its exterior may seem, this music is never created for the purpose of exclusion, nor should it be seen to take the form of some kind of endurance test; how much louder, more piercing, more dissonant will it become? How much more can you take? In truth, it is nothing more sinister than a snapshot of someone's own personal representation in sound - an invitation to a meeting of minds, a conversation between the author, and the listener. And as I mentioned, it certainly can be a learning experience, and not one with a steep curve attached to it either. All that it takes is to listen, and make up your own mind.
One of the most exciting possibilities in music, is picking out elements of where it came from, watching its evolution into something else, and wondering where it may go in the future. Taking electronic music in particular, in the past, it has been something of a divided community. On the one hand, there is the music that originated in the "Classical" realm, from composers with an academic background in music, and on the other, that which came from the "street", through popular music, often with a leaning toward the dance floor, leading us eventually to Reggae, Disco, Hip-Hop, House, Techno, Jungle, and a 1001 other off-shoots and sub-genres. Despite this historical insularity, there has always been a certain amount of crossover in technique between the two groups (the perfect example being John Cage's use of turntable manipulation in a composition as early as 1939, a long time before "scratching", or "beat juggling" caught on with DJ?s), as well as within the separate camps themselves (Jamaican Reggae DJ's talking over their selections, known as "toasting", and the tight, repetitive beats of Soul and Funk, leading to Hip-Hop for example). But we've finally reached the point in time, where these divisions have blurred so much, that they've become largely irrelevant, replaced by a unity, and a greater understanding of this historical significance. The beats filling nightclub dance floors may mean as much to a Classical composer today, as the possibilities held within alternate forms of musical notation to a dance music producer. I dare say that your average glow-stick wielding weekend club raver may not think that they have much in common with a stiffly dressed member of a concert hall audience, but the endless possibilities this music presents will only continue to erode this already precarious middle ground. I program the music for my show with this ideal very much in mind, so while it may seem strange to follow thumping hardcore Techno, with a 1950's tango orchestra, then a lengthy passage of heavily computer-processed guitar playing, there is a common thread that links it all. The sometime disjointed structure this may appear to bring to my show, is shared by the often similarly disjointed nature of contemporary electronic music itself. My own extension of this concept, you might say.
Although I always try to listen with open ears, I am obviously as prone to prejudice, and personal taste, as anyone else. Should any such declaration be necessary, I fully admit to being an avid music lover, a statement you could probably hear being spoken by just about any KAOS DJ, as well as the vast majority of our listeners. I always hope that feeling is reflected in the way I present my show. My own love often extends to acquiring this background knowledge of the music itself, whether it be through the sleeve notes on an album, a book, a magazine, or a website. I try to pass along as much information as I can about the music, and artists, that I play, and will also often shed some light onto the processes that went into the sounds, in the hope that someone, somewhere, may possibly be interested enough to listen and look a little further, or at the very least, to let people know how those noises that mildly irritated them for the last 10 minutes were made. Sometimes these comments are off-hand, and occasionally while on the air, even I'll grow tired of the sound of my voice, but hopefully it is at least somewhat informative, if not always exactly illuminating.
Incidentally, I have no formal education in music myself at all. The only reason I'm where I am today, as far as my musical leanings go, is through listening, and persistence of listening. Hearing that occasional sound that would make my jaw drop, set my mind racing, or stand the hair on the back of my neck on end. These small sparks that emerged from my radio over the years, started this fire that now engulfs your radio every two weeks. Just remember that even if it does burn slightly out of control at times, something a little more temperate will probably follow along behind it. And, even though I've now written this piece, I hope the telephone calls will continue to come in during my show. Any reaction, after all, is always better than no reaction at all. </Andrew> <!--8/11/2006 01:52:00 PM-->
Thursday, August 10, 2006
<Andrew>
Whither cassettes? - the death of which have been widely trumpeted for years by all and sundry....yet they still refuse to go away (and have even made something of a resurgence in the face of CD-R's, at the grass roots level - the cassette underground....and take a look at Fusetron's new releases list if you don't believe me). The humble cassette embodies an ideal that is literally so wrong, it's right. They are so prone to deterioration, so variable in quality (and of a quality that was never 'quality' to begin with!), and so inconvenient - in an era that thrives on fast, random access to information, nothing surely represents linearity, and the preceding era, more than the cassette. Those that want to rewind or fast-forward to exactly what they want, or - beyond that, even - those that want to listen, progressively, to AN ENTIRE SOMETHING as it 'slowly' makes its way there (in real time, in other words), have certainly grown fewer and fewer in number. Yet, looking back, it was the cassette underground that sign-posted the way to safety (and with it, specialty) in the first place - and, in particular, Throbbing Gristle's obsessive tape recording, and subsequent releasing, of every live performance they ever made - and Industrial Records subsequent forays into cassette-label territory with other artists (Cabaret Voltaire, Clock DVA, William S. Burroughs, and others). While TG were likely not the first to do this, it undoubtedly had a huge impact - and was certainly one of the telling factors that led to the creation of a worldwide (and almost entirely postal mail based) underground network of music that was made almost expressly for the format, and was often also recorded on it, or manipulated using it (and, in some cases - Maurizio Bianchi springs to mind - some elements of all three). Experimental music (or industrial, such as it was then, in its narrower context) lends itself perfectly to the linear, analogue nature of the cassette....bound in the historical hiss of its forebears, gradually unfolding over time, into a pattern of continuous reality. Small gestures, arranged and communicated to the listener, to be consumed in the same grimy urgency as they were documented, duplicated, and disseminated. Residue is a vital component - cultural residue, technological residue, residue from the photocopied sleeves staining your fingers, residue from the ferrous oxide staining the heads on your tape recorder. Cassettes allowed things to go further, longer, and rougher - the risks associated with manufacturing and selling hundreds of vinyl records disappeared, along with the inhibitions of those creating the sounds. And yes, sometimes it meant the quality control disappeared also - but at least the price was right. And if you really didn't like it, well....put some sticky tape over the tabs, and you can record over it, can't you? How many times have you bought a crappy CD and wished you could do that....?</Andrew> <!--8/10/2006 10:23:00 PM-->
Sunday, July 30, 2006
<Andrew>
First in a series of 'whithers'....
Whither MP3 blogs....? I've been venturing to a few more of these lately, and paying more regular visits to the ones I would occasionally frequent. In some ways, they would appear to be hitting their stride, in providing a service that straddles some precarious middle-ground - and I don't just mean on the (obvious)legal/copyright side of the house either. On the one hand, these people are obviously collectors and musical enthusiasts - they've gone out and amassed this stuff for some other reason than the walls of their house were looking a bit bare, so they bought a big shelf, then piled it high with records and CD's. But on the other, they challenge the preconception of record (or any other kind of) collecting, in that they (and their friends and acquaintance is some cases) are serving up these rarities and delicacies on a huge plate, for all and sundry to enjoy. At least until the bandwidth is used up, or someone (or their legal counsel) politely asks them to cease and desist. Of course, downloading a file for your own listening enjoyment is never going to replace the sense-of-object ingrained into those with of hardened vinyl fixation. I've come to the conclusion that it's best to think of them as signposts - pointing the way to something wonderful, into new areas for you to further explore, or - likewise - pointing you away from something you'd heard about for years, but then didn't really care for. Not to mention that a good deal of the tracks that find their way to these sites, are either too obscure, too marginal, or too bound up in red tape to have obtained any kind of official re-issue. It's certainly been nice to see some recent themed examples that aren't just bucking a trend, or going out on a whim (Mein Walkman Ist Kaputt being a notable example).
Incidentally - bonus points to Dalston Oxfam Shop for taking the piss out of the entire collector/obscurity/rarity angle of the MP3 blog realm, while still making an entirely valid contribution....by posting tracks from random cassettes purchased for next to nothing from an East London charity shop (or thrift store, as they're called in these parts).
Like everything else though, it's the listener, the digger, the researcher, that will ultimately gain the most from such things. Yeah, you could go and download the lot, couldn't you? Then not listen to them, not pass judgement, or form an opinion. Not gain anything other than a slightly more filled up hard drive. Some of the sites look pretty, some don't. Some of the musical choices I adore, while others fill me with absolute disdain (though I like to think that the tastes of these individuals are, like mine, fairly militant in their purview). Even our Selectors need to be selected. Trust the DJ....? Eventually. Such trust is to be earned!
I've been pondering starting one of my own for quite a while now, but have thus far sat on the idea. Part of me has often thought that there are probably too many of the things already, but, as you probably ascertained from my statement above - with all of those conflicting opinions out there, it's unlikely that 'market saturation' (chuckle) will be reached any time soon. By coincidence, I have recently started to record some of my vinyl onto my computer - spurred by a request for a track from someone on the venerable DJ History forum. Why the delay, I don't really know - it's not as if I haven't had all of the constituent parts (a record player, a computer, and a cable to hook them together) for some time. To use another one of those phrases that always seems to make it into my blog posts, one way or another - we shall see.</Andrew> <!--7/30/2006 11:31:00 PM-->
Tuesday, July 25, 2006
<Andrew>
Computer - heal thyself....if only. Slowly but surely, it is getting on the right side of normal though. Which is probably more than I should say for myself at the moment. It's been too hot to do just about anything else, these past few days. It's at times like this that you realise it's called "unseasonal" heat for a reason - because there's no season it should belong in. I added some new links over at my del.icio.us page a few days ago - all of which are worthy of your attention. The cavernous oceans of European post-punk/new wave/industrial musical miscellany have been my main preoccupation over the past few weeks....that and the usual geographic ephemera and cultural off-cuts. There are lines that join the dots, fragments of maps and documents, slowly being pulled together. Such is my research - and its stop/start, disjointed nature. I'm not saying it's ever going to amount to anything (and many may say it's worthless on paper), but that's not the point. If the radio show does end soon, which it's looking increasingly likely it will, I intend to use the opportunity to take some other things further - further writing, further music, further research. For every great piece of music you heard, book you read, film you saw, website you visited - there's hundreds, thousands, we don't even know about yet. So I sit at my desk, perspire lightly, and pretend to be Vasco da Gama....no matter your destination, you won't get there without making a journey.</Andrew> <!--7/25/2006 09:05:00 PM-->
Sunday, July 16, 2006
<Andrew>
New hard drive soon come to solve those PC woes....or at least start some new ones (reinstallation of everything that once was, plus that data tucked away - hopefully - on the iPod). These things never seem to work 100%, but we'll see. Sigh.
If you listened to the radio show on Saturday (and if you didn't....well, I would've liked to have had you there), you will have heard my announcement regarding changes that I really need to make to how "Curious-Blue" is right now. I can't keep doing it every single weekend - that's the bottom line - and so I'm hoping that an alternating host (or show) can be found, sometime before August, otherwise I just don't think I can keep going, based upon my own current climate, and that at KAOS FM. To be honest, the station itself is a large part of the problem, as anyone who has ever visited this blog, or who knows me in the slightest, will already know. Without a clear plan for the future, and a current path consisting solely of standardisation and stagnation, KAOS is going nowhere fast. There's precious little respect evident for the volunteers, or for our right to bring an individual approach and format to our shows. And where is the consideration of the KAOS community as a whole (as opposed to just the local community in which the station physically resides....we stream the signal online, so the drawing of 'community' borders for the station is effectively irrelevant)? In these times, when the management should be seeking to inspire and innovate, they are, sadly, nitpicking and maintaining....busy building (paper) walls, instead of bridges.
Big musical/geographic/etc. write-up to come....just like that hard drive. Typing on the partly knackered ex-work laptop just isn't cutting it. Something about the angle.</Andrew> <!--7/16/2006 10:23:00 PM-->
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
<Andrew>
It's been a rough week no the computing front - my main computer decided to keel over and die in the most messy and complicated way, on July 4th. Despite the fact the whole episode has made me think my most murderous thoughts about Microsoft and Windows yet, there's a certain irony in the fact that the crash was caused by....Apple software! A failed install (complete with matching error messages) on iTunes and Quicktime, which was followed by some initial clean-up, then a reboot to wipe the slate clean for another stab. Unfortunately, the PC never came back....and in fact, it still hasn't. Although at least it recognizes the fact that it has a hard drive installed now, and that there are some of my (precious!) files on it (which were moved to the shiny, portable safety of an iPod, thanks to that lock-pick of the computer toolbox- the Knoppix live-CD distribution of Linux - if anything within Windows ever fails you, you'll be so glad that you had this on hand). Beyond that, the registry was corrupted, the disk has been flagged as bad and unstable by the BIOS, and - at the moment, it doesn't appear to want to re-install the operating system either. It's been saying "Welcome to Windows XP" while the hard disk grinds away constantly for the past 2+ hours (trained mice re-typing source code....?). Doesn't inspire confidence to say the least. But, then again, it never really did. It has crossed my mind that this could be part of an Apple conspiracy, to get people who they know are dabbling in their world, to fully indulge. While I'd usually do anything I can to avoid being so placidly compliant....it's working. It's as if they knew I'd been thinking about replacing this aging hulk with a Mac anyhow.
I'm going downstairs after this, to fashion myself a tin foil hat. Several sheets thick, too.
Picked myself up a book about Werner Herzog recently, which I've only just started to peck at. I've always been aware of the man, and his films and other work, to a certain degree, although my recent exposure to his documentary about the 1970's dictatorship of Jean Bedel Bokassa in the Central African Republic, "Echoes Of A Sombre Empire", really peaked my interest. His world view (in a truly global sense - both geographically and philosophically), and his approach to his art, and the creative process in general, is inspiring and encouraging. It helps that I've always liked my honesty served with a shot of reality/pessimism.</Andrew> <!--7/12/2006 09:27:00 PM-->
Sunday, July 02, 2006
<Andrew>
Having arrived, summer keeps persistently knocking at the door now. Needless to say I have been trying to beat the heat, and when I can't beat it, I join it. It was even cooler during a brief jaunt to California earlier this week (for work - it was as if I was there, yet wasn't) than it has been here. Seems to be the same over in England too. This global warming lark, I tell you....I think these scientists are on to something.
Still engrossed in the Cup Of Worldness 2006. Despite England having gone out in the Quarter Finals, on penalty kicks. That was of no surprise, coming as it does on the back of numerous recent World Cup exits, in the same round, by the same cruel fate. We're a last 8 team, let's face it. When we're something more than that, I think I, and the whole world even, will know. We're not there yet though. Not there yet. And how the mood on Univision quietened, upon the exit of Brazil - the batucada drummers, the carnivale dancers, even the Senadoras in their tiny tight shorts and shirts....with Argentina gone as well, it's an all-European semi-final line up. Ah well, come Tuesday when the next game is on, I'm sure they'll be going as crazy for the magic of football, just as they always can be relied upon to do. The other US coverage is so staid and biased, the British so knowing and sure of itself. The goals and the glamour - THIS is where it's at.
Not superstitious - but - a trio of bad things from this week....:
1) I found my list of ideas for things I wanted to write about here. It was on a post-it note, and never made it into my notebook. Yes, I found it....just as it was disappearing into the shredder, attached to another sheet of paper.
2) Walking home from the bus stop on Thursday, at a fair old clip too, I stepped off the sidewalk briefly, and onto the grass verge. My foot disappeared down a pothole, hidden in the foot long lawn - and the next thing I know, I slammed hard onto the gravel beside me. Cue skinless elbows, bruised knees, cursedly sore wrists and ankles, a torn and bloodstained shirt, and a smashed iPod case (thank goodness it was in a case - there'd be nothing left of it otherwise!). Ouch.
3) Going out to do the radio show yesterday, smacked my head - and I still don't know how, exactly - getting off the bus. It hurt for a while, and left me a little dazed. This may or may not have had a positive impact on the show. Not really sure. That mix from Can into This Heat was pretty nifty though, and remained 'dance music' throughout even. How I love getting away with things.
So, yes....three. That's quite enough for 2006, thank you.</Andrew> <!--7/02/2006 08:27:00 PM-->
Thursday, June 22, 2006
<Andrew>
I've had several ideas in the past couple of weeks for things to write, and so on, that I've meant to put up....but somehow I've just never managed to get around to it, so my rather lackadaisical posting/update schedule continues. I have the scribbled idea notes somewhere though. They only contain key words as opposed to full sentences, mind you - and sometimes such things decode a little differently after a time span, or gather additional meanings along the way, perhaps totally irrelevant to my original intent. Such is life. I've been ruminating on constructing some pieces based upon important records/music in my life, although I only really have one in particular in mind at the moment, there really ought to be others to accompany it. I dislike picking long-term favourites though....I'm not the sort of person that could put together a solid Top 10 list of my life so far, without it being so transient, having so many caveats, and off-shoots. Too much fine print, and potential for headaches and night sweats. Something else that will likely happen (at some point) is that this website is finally going to fork, as was the original intent when I bought two, separate domain names. The "curiousblue.com" one will continue to point to all of this stuff, and the other one ("andrewaustin.org") will be doing something else, most likely more personal, as opposed music/radio/random thoughts oriented stuff. Though, if you strip that stuff away from me, is there really anything left? At 5.XXam, on a night shift, following a previous day shift and about a day without sleep, that's just too much to ponder....</Andrew> <!--6/22/2006 05:26:00 AM-->
Saturday, June 10, 2006
<Andrew>
Just a quick post to apologise for the site having been down for the past few days - I've had to set everything up on a new server, with new (paid) hosting, after the previous host - who, in all fairness, had hosted the site for free for the past several years - went offline on June 6th, without any forewarning (to me at any rate - and I notice that many of the other sites that were hosted there are still inactive also).
The site now has much room for potential growth and expansion, or at the very least, an escalation in activity! I certainly have a lot more space and bandwidth now, but, like I said, it has come at a price....albeit a fairly small one, as it goes.
Anyhow - I need to dash now, fully in the grip of World Cup fever as I am. In fact, I can just hear Sweden vs. Trinidad & Tobago game getting going on the TV downstairs. Should be better than the England performance I crawled out of bed at 5.45am to witness....but at least they won their opening game, and that really doesn't happen very often in the World Cup.
Incidentally - I'm finding Univision's coverage of the games far preferable to that of ESPN/ABC so far. More emotionally engaging (despite the obvious language barrier), and even the colours seem brighter....</Andrew> <!--6/10/2006 09:05:00 AM-->
Monday, May 29, 2006
<Andrew>
Been laying low for a while, just going about my normal business really, then not being very well for the past week or so (having fallen victim to the particularly virulent spring cold doing the rounds at the moment). In between the hacking coughs and nose-blowing, I have been trying (and I've lost count of how many times I've tried this) to gain an appreciation for single malt Scotch - and it seems to be working more this time, although the cold could be a good part of that. And anticipation is building for the upcoming World Cup - less than 2 weeks away now. In fact, I've signed on for the BBC's online speculation game WorldCupDaq for the duration....although I'm not doing so well at the moment, with some of my shares having soared, but others (Holland? come on, I think they're going to do pretty well this time around) having plummeted since I bought them. Oh well.
And, of course, the radio show has continued, playlists are in their normal spot.
Label of the moment? DC Recordings....after the massive Padded Cell 12" earlier this year, there's now 2 new singles incoming from The Emperor Machine which sound equally fantastic. And how can any track with the title, "Seka Wants Your VCS3" be bad?</Andrew> <!--5/29/2006 09:53:00 AM-->
Thursday, May 11, 2006
<Andrew>
Well, it's late, and I'm tired....but I did want to let everyone know that today's meeting at KAOS went well, and I will be back on the air this Saturday evening! More information to follow. Extra special thanks to everyone who has sent words of support, or just got in touch to see what's up....</Andrew> <!--5/11/2006 11:20:00 PM-->
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
<Andrew>
Just a brief update on the KAOS situation - there will be a meeting taking place on Thursday, to discuss the current state of affairs. It has also been mentioned that this may possibly clear the way for me to return for the show this Saturday evening. The approach seems positive, and diplomatic, and I applaud the General Manager in particular for wiping the slate clean as it were, and removing any pre-conditions for apologies, requirements, and so on, so that an open and unclouded dialogue can hopefully take place. More information as I have it.</Andrew> <!--5/10/2006 01:32:00 AM-->
Well, there's not a whole lot more to say about the KAOS situation at this point, but I will explain what has happened this far. I was suspended at approximately 5.40pm yesterday evening, having travelled to KAOS to do my show, and spent several hours previous to that getting it ready - all of which turned out to be a waste of time. I mean, come on....a telephone call earlier in the day would have been sufficient - but then there wouldn't have been the element of surprise, and the all-important confrontation. Da-da-DAAAAAAAH!
Anyhow - there should be a meeting taking place sometime this week, between myself and the management staff to discuss the differences between us, although there already appears to be some pre-conditions attached to this on their part, which I have responded to by e-mail, as I'm not willing to comply with them.
At the moment, I'm not going to reveal the exact details of what triggered the suspension - I'll wait until after the meeting for that (should it ever take place), to save inflaming the situation even further - but here's some background on the whole situation (you lucky people....). It all began a few weeks ago, with my alleged 'breaking' (doesn't there have to be an official 'rule' in place in order for it to be broken?) of a 'rule'(although there is no 'rule book' in which this is officially stated), regarding the submission of written playlists to the KAOS Music Department staff. Never mind that I've been 'breaking' this particular 'rule' since January 2000....but perhaps that means I should be thanking them for the 6 year grace period, or something. What escalated this situation into some serious next level shizzle, was my (entirely suitable) response to a comment made by one of the student Music Dept. staff, which was obviously intended to criticise and ridicule me, and which was then distributed in a (reasonably) public forum (that being the KAOS staff and volunteer e-mail list) by the General Manager. My issue is not so much with the comment that was made - I have my own strong opinions about the KAOS management and staff, and they're as entitled to theirs, as I am to mine. Sticks and stones, and all that. No, my issue is with the fact that the General Manager felt that it was perfectly OK to just spread that 'love' all around. Oh yeah, baby....spread that love. My response to this was entirely in kind, and without malice. Of course, they didn't see the 'funny' side. Double standards, anyone? Oh, come on....have a double standard. KAOS has so many, that you owe it to yourself to take one.
If this is how I bow out from KAOS, trust me....I did it in style, and it will have been entirely worth it. Should they choose to make an enemy of me, I have the potential to assume the role of 'enemy' to the very best of my ability. You know I can do it!
But seriously, folks....I'm trying to take this in good humour, just so I can deal with what a complete and utter bunch of "we're making this up as we go along, but it's OK, because we're The Management" crap this all is. If you would miss Curious-Blue if it were to disappear from the KAOS airwaves, please call the station to let them know, and, indirectly, express your support for its beleaguered host....:
(360) 867-6895 Thanks! And don't worry, I'll be back - somehow. Maybe in some other form, and in some other way, but this is not the end....well, unless you want it to be!
Biggest disappointment about the entire thing? I was going to start the show with the Lindstrom remix of Franz Ferdinand's, "I'm Your Villain" - fresh out this week, and promo only at that. I had it air-mailed from the UK, and it showed up on my doorstep that very afternoon (along with a few other choice items, such as the new Beyond The Wizard's Sleeve EP). Gutted!</Andrew> <!--5/07/2006 07:56:00 PM-->
<Andrew>
I apologize to anyone who tuned in to hear Curious-Blue on Saturday evening, only to find me absent. I have been suspended from the KAOS airwaves, until further notice. It is entirely possible I will not return. More information, and an explanation, to follow soon.</Andrew> <!--5/07/2006 12:29:00 AM-->
Sunday, April 30, 2006
<Andrew>
Well, April is pretty much at an end - I seem to have spent a lot of it bedded down in my day to day reality, and caught up in combative thought....pondering the reasoning of things. It's OK to be opinionated and irrational, and perhaps it's actually better to take the 'battering ram' approach to contemporary culture. But is it worth the effort? And beyond that, what is any of it worth, at all. Who's listening?
The radio show has continued, of course, and as always I search for all manner of music to bring to the table, and generally keep my game up, but I wonder more and more if it is just a fruitless exercise any longer. I play my two hours of tunes, and talk about them as ever, but the phone calls, the support from within, and outside the station, appear to have diminished greatly from what they once were, so the hope and the 'rewards' seem distant of late. While I remain committed to the task (and cause) at hand, perhaps there's just a better way to do it. Perhaps it's time to even re-evaluate whether it needs to be done.
Why does an angular, experimentalist thinker play disco? What does that boil down to? Pleasure is contained in the sound, and the ideas that created it - pleasure that may manifest itself in any number of ways....dancing, tapping, nodding, sensations (hairs raising on the back of the neck, etc.). You can rule it in, or out. It's there for the taking. Or the leaving.
Very nice article on Conrad Schnitzler in the latest issue of The Wire - though I've found precious little else to recommend the rest of the magazine yet - and particularly prescient, given that some choice selections from his back catalogue have just been re-released (on Qbico and Captain Trip), as well as some archive recordings issued for the first time. The more I've found out about him, the more intrigued I've become....former Joseph Beuys student, a harbinger of krautrock and industrial electronic sound, a self-taught musician and composer working at the intersections of art and performance, pioneer cassette underground agitator, and someone who has remained committed to creating and producing their own artistic vision. No great fame or fortune, but a body of work, a widely noted influence, and at the end of the day, it puts food on his table. I'd be proud to support that - and I do.</Andrew> <!--4/30/2006 10:39:00 PM-->
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
<Andrew>
Another year older today - and it feels completely fine so far, to be honest. I'm not at the point where I'm really looking at my age and thinking, "Where did the years go?" yet. That is something I do from time to time, but age doesn't really have anything into it....
I'm taking some days off of work to relax, and contemplate things, which is actually really nice - no huge purpose or agenda, just days off, to do things, or not.
The day has been littered with surprises - opening cards from my family, then a giant hand-made one that B. bought to me this morning, along with a cup of tea in bed (does it get any better than that, I ask myself?). And when I came downstairs to get some breakfast....well, the picture shows some of what was waiting for me in the kitchen! All this, and it's not even ll.00am yet....13 hours of fun to go, and I intend to be awake (in some shape or form) for all of them!</Andrew> <!--4/19/2006 10:48:00 AM-->
Sunday, April 16, 2006
<Andrew>
Still not really feeling in the mood to be writing anything much - in fact, I've been enjoying contributing comments and occasional bits and pieces to other people's blogs more just lately (people I know, I should add - not just any old random ones). In the meantime, the front page of the site has received its customary seasonal makeover, and the radio show playlists are still being posted weekly, of course. One definite highlight from last nights show, among others, was playing "Stakker Humanoid" at 33rpm, instead of 45. Sounded amazing. I need to spread the word about that one.
Can't believe I've owned that particular record close on 16 years now. Actually, I can....I'm celebrating a birthday in the next few days, and when I relate it to my age, it makes a lot of sense.
Aside from all that, I still feel a certain amount of disdain and disenchantment for particular portions of my universe - despite their being largely out of my control - and with attitudes, leanings, and intentions therein. Sometimes I really wonder what the benefits are to being an active participant in it. There's so much negativity out there to cancel out the good inside your self, and raise awareness of your own contradictions and failings. Life can be easy, and sometimes difficult, but mostly its uneasy....so many variables. Outlets - creative, physical, or otherwise - certainly help to deal with that....channel it, filter it, tune it out. But they're not always there, in the world, and inside us. So sometimes these things just build up, looming, like an ominous wall.
Today's thing to be sure of? Steel cut oats make a good breakfast.</Andrew> <!--4/16/2006 12:10:00 PM-->
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
<Andrew>
No, I still haven't written something about Atlanta yet, or anything else for that matter. I'd rather wait until the words were flowing a little more naturally, rather than having to force them out. Just not feeling very wordy lately, sorry. Or in a very good frame of mind generally.
The process of setting my goals for 2006 looms at work - everyone who's ever read my blog ought to know what I feel about goals by now (that I subscribe to Cornelius Cardew's theory that the existence of failure is only brought about by its relation to goals). The primary goal, in truth, needs to be that I try to not be driven insane by the world, and its inhabitants. This doesn't feel like it is going to well at the moment, therefore I should currently rate myself as an 'inconsistent performer'. You win some, you lose some. That's life.</Andrew> <!--3/29/2006 10:35:00 PM-->
Saturday, March 25, 2006
<Andrew>
Just back from Atlanta, late last night, where I've been attending a conference, and generally wandering about, for the past few days. Full write up to follow - but here's a picture of Midtown to be going on with (from one of the sunny days - it was mostly cloudy, and at times downright stormy). Anyhow, I now have to go and get ready for the radio show tonight, though frankly, I'd rather be catching up on a little rest!</Andrew> <!--3/25/2006 12:45:00 PM-->
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
<Andrew>
High point of the last few days - celebrating 2 years together with B., stuffing our faces with Indian food, and snuggling under warm blankets (not at the same time though - laying on papad crumbs is uncomfortable).
Low point of the past few days - already covered in my previous entry, although positive pitching experiences with positive people have helped somewhat, both on Saturday, and for a few hours yesterday evening also.
Other than that, shuffling around, trying to complete things at work and in my mind. There seems to be an absence of exciting artful/musical things to occupy my mind this week, and it's causing me no end of frustration. Particularly because I know there's information out there for me somewhere, but it evades me. Winter lingers on....there's nothing else to say.</Andrew> <!--3/15/2006 08:19:00 PM-->
Sunday, March 12, 2006
<Andrew>
Well, the swirling sea of radio waves did little to help me last night - for the first time in its (almost) 9 year history, Curious-Blue received $0.00 in pledges, and not even a single telephone call of support. The dancefloor economy may be in something of a (media perceived - it's actually flourishing) recession, but given that I know I have many dedicated listeners, it is something of a blow, and I'm a little down about it, but trying not to be.
To say the enthusiasm all of those taking part is at an all-time low, is something of an understatement, and, if anything, I take the fact that no-one called in during my show, as a show of support toward my opposition of the current KAOS station management, and their poor handling of critical elements of the station's remit, such as the Membership Drives. Really, the whole approach to these is woefully outdated, as are their ideas regarding publicity, technology, and listening to the community that actually makes KAOS happen - the volunteers. Our ideas are not sought, and those put forth regardless, are just not listened to. A community radio station that cannot even listen to its own community, has problems located at its very core. KAOS needs to stop partying like it's 1979, and get with the fact that it's 2006 - whether the management like it, or not. Now is not the time to stick your heads even further into the sand.
It's all about as radical as a loaf of brown bread. Man.
Still, it was a lot of fun to pitch with Brooks and Domenica during Aerick Mackintosh's "Super Secret Lodge Show". Because even though spirits were very, very low, we still created a good deal of seriously off-the-wall merriment - and received $80.00 in pledges for our efforts! The ghost of Orson Welles would be proud.</Andrew> <!--3/12/2006 12:10:00 PM-->
Thursday, March 09, 2006
<Andrew>
More snow in this part of the world today. Spring may be around the corner, but Winter is having all the fun it can while it is still out of sight....
It may seem funny, but for someone who has been involved in radio, on and off, for almost 18 years, and who has been listening to it for far longer than that even, I don't often stop to think about how we're all practically swimming in these seas of invisible waves - emanating not just from large transmission towers, but from electrical appliances, sunlight, telephones....but without something to receive them, decode them, or intercept them in some way, we'd never really know they were there. Radios are the most obvious example, receiving their specific frequency spectra - AM & FM broadcast bands, largely regulated by government or other appointed authorities. At the extremes, things get more esoteric - such as ELF/VLF (extremely/very low frequency) signals from natural phenomena, such as the weather (Steven P. McGreevy's recordings of these occurrences are fairly well known, and NASA maintains an online-accessible VLF receiver here), and in the shortwave spectrum (roughly considered to be from 2.5 to 30Mhz), where world-band broadcast radio has diminished (largely displaced by international online streaming, which is more reliable in quality, as well as cheaper to produce and disseminate), utility broadcasting continues to thrive....beeps, bleeps, chirps, and clicks, that all mean something to someone, whether innocent (ham radio chatter), useful (fax weather charts for ships at sea), or clandestine (government spy 'numbers' or data broadcasts....Numbers & Oddities has an array on information (albeit often technical) on the lot). Remember the Conet Project? (You can download the entire thing, including the thick accompanying booklet - and quite legally I might add - HERE). Then, as the frequencies get higher, you take in aircraft radios, 2-way radios, police and utility radios, cell phones, cordless phones, wireless internet devices, microwave ovens, microwave radio tranmissions, satellites....all the way up to light itself, and beyond.
I remember being completely blown away upon discovering that devices existed that could actually examine, and navigate, these invisible seas - show you what they looked like. Spectrum sweepers, frequency counters/recorders....devices which are not cheap, and certainly very specialized (Optoelectronics was the brand I was initially introduced to, though I know there are likely many others), but which still stagger me by their very existence all the same.
That's the thing with all this stuff, too. Security? - forget it. If it passes through the air, or through a wire for that matter, it can be intercepted - trapped, analyzed, decoded. Altered, and sent on to you, none the wiser. There is no encryption method yet devised, that cannot be cracked somehow. And, incidentally, anyone developing such solutions and technology with the intent of selling it pretty much anywhere in the world, is OBLIGED to share a 'master key' to any data that could be encoded using it, with our friends at the U.S. Government - so they'll always be able to crack it, even if we can't, and even if you don't want them to....scary, huh?
The teacher of a security class I once took said it best - "All data is comprised of bits. Bits are bits, and any bit is a switch that can be flipped". Turn your one into a zero. Take a magnet to a tape, a disk, a hard drive - you changed it. Take a knife to the grooves of a record, or some glue, or a flame....Milan Knizak called the game on that. "Broken Music". The physical remix is born (it has since been revisited by countless others, a great essay over at UbuWeb provides a wonderful chronology).
I'm not quite sure why radio, and in particular, 'hidden' (in plain view, yet unseen) and unusual applications for it, have not been more widely used in the practice of time-based conceptual and/or postmodern art, particularly given the political charge of radio in the 1960's and '70's, as a popular broadcast media for clandestine or revolutionary groups. Which, of course, is not to say that radio art does not exist - far from it. You only need click back to good old UbuWeb for masses of proof of that. (And on second thought, I suppose that On Kawara's series of "I Am Still Alive" telegrams would qualify....).</Andrew> <!--3/09/2006 07:00:00 PM-->
Ended up adapting my last post here into a comment on Mr. Larsen's latest post at Warm Not Cold - you might say it was part agree, part disagree. But hey....that's what it's all about, right? Provoking thoughts and opinions! I think I can say that we both feel pretty strongly about the subjects at hand, that's for sure.
Having eaten some delicious oatmeal and had some tea (both courtesy of my loving B., who definitely knows what I like), it's that time of my Saturday where my attention is now shifting toward my radio show this evening. As usual, I have a couple of ideas of what I am going to play, and this week, no less than 3(!) listener requests from last week to fulfil (Cymande, Grandmaster Flash, & Herbie Hancock respectively). But for the most part, as usual, I don't really know - I'll flick through my records and CD's and find things, then perhaps go off on tangents from those, of certain themes or sounds. It's surprising how logical it can be, sometimes one track seems to point me directly to another that will compliment it. Some weeks I struggle to fill my 2 hours with things that seem interesting, yet others I find that I could have kept spinning for another hour or more, what with everything I bought along! Plus, I usually pull out a few surprises too, things that perhaps are either so new I haven't really listened to them yet, or that I haven't heard in a really long time. And you know what surprises are like....sometimes they're pleasant and lead off into even more uncharted inspirational territory, and sometimes you just cringe and think, "maybe....some other time". Usually, if it can be danced to, I'll give it a go - that's pretty much the only remit of Curious-Blue these days.
I think I've written before about my analogy of music and personal taste, being rather like that for wine and cheese - their flavours develop in an endless amount of ways over time, and different people will find their taste irresistible during varying stages of that development. The wine can be tapped straight after fermentation, or once it has been oak-aged for 10 years. The cheese eaten once it has solidified, or been left for months on an open shelf, encased in wax. We should never think of music as having been preserved in amber, like some prehistoric insect - captured and set, never to alter over time. The universe around it changes enormously every day, giving works new relevance, new contexts - opportunities for that which was once lost to be re-discovered and re-evaluated. The song you don't like today, you may love next week, or in the next decade. Practically anything could spark your previously dormant interest in it.
Even the physical properties of the sounds captured in the grooves, or the metal particles, are prone to change themselves - they heat and cool, stretch and warp, wear and gather dust. They are human-made objects, but exist in an organic universe, populated by humans to only the tiniest degree (in relation to 'everything else'). Such control as we have, can only be exerted in limited forms. Cleaning records and tape heads, replacing styli, keeping sleeves enshrouded in plastic. Delaying the inevitable, but not avoiding it altogether. With each passing day, and play, it fades away. And sounds different as a result.
That's also why I don't get rid of any records anymore - no, it doesn't help from the points of space and convenience (it's gets harder to find particular items every week, I swear!), but just because I have something, and I don't have a use for it now, perhaps some day I will. I feel sure of it even.</Andrew> <!--3/04/2006 11:47:00 AM-->
Thursday, March 02, 2006
<Andrew>
What to say today? Well, I could write a lot, but I'm going to try and keep it brief.
Every day, I ponder things. I wonder about what the point is, in the wider scheme of things, or (for better, or worse) whether there even is one. I am a person who thinks, and a person who sometimes creates, but sometimes only thinks about it, and sometimes is too tired, or lazy, to be bothered. But, you know what?
Every living person is an artist. We can all draw....breath.
Any output resulting from a creative process, whatever it may be, is an antagonism against passive existence. That which is not passive, is passionate. Every thing is either embedded with our selves, or we see something of ourselves, to a variable degree, embedded within it. We look, we listen, we touch, we taste, we smell. We do so unimpartially. Our every interaction with our surroundings shapes our universe - its content, our choices, loves, likes, dislikes, and hates. We're here to feel....something.
I've said this before, and I'll say it again - the economy of ideas is worth more than the ideas of economy. Nobody else thinks exactly the way that you do - and that's worth an awful lot. Through differences we live and learn, elect and select, love and respect. Even if what we learn is that we don't agree with something, or don't like it - we've learned all the same.
Well, that's February over with - and aside from myself & B. taking our trip to Portland, I'll be rather glad to see the back of it to be honest. As if you couldn't have guessed.
Not a lot to say today. Tired, and our wine bottle is all empty. I did just pick up a few more Uniwave/PBI label disco 12"s for $2 each on eBay though (and they're fairly hard to find ones at that), so all is not lost.
New issue of Arkitip looks good - I've a soft spot for the clean, bold lettering of Experimental Jetset. The staff and hangers-on of Turntable Lab have a blog now, some of which is worth a chuckle. And the new Generic Costume t-shirts at 2K (example pictured) are just tasty in the extreme....</Andrew> <!--2/28/2006 10:25:00 PM-->
Monday, February 27, 2006
<Andrew>
While going through some links today, to see if they were still valid, and still worked, I was pleased to discover the return to the internet (not that he probably ever actually stopped working on things - the fact is, he's probably been too busy) of Al Larsen, and his new music/discourse project Warm Not Cold. I'm pleased to see how he's documenting this journey as it unfolds, complete with supporting links, mp3 files, and most of all, his text, which is as honest and refreshing in its approach, as always - at once informative, charming, and disarming.
On a sadder note, much as I only discovered the passing of Derek Bailey about a month after it had actually occurred, I learned a couple of days ago also that one of my favourite artists, Nam June Paik, had recently died. A pioneer of electronic and technological art, Paik's works were always endowed with a playful sense of fun and excitement. Upon viewing his work, I have always felt that I was joining him on a journey - and although he knew very well where he wanted to take you, you had absolutely no idea how you would be taken there. When I traveled to New York for the HOPE Conference in 2004, the only time I switched on the television in my room at the Hotel Pennsylvania, it clicked directly onto the local PBS station, who happened to be showing Paik's incredible television spectacle, "Global Groove" (1973) - a crush collision of colours, images, and sounds. My most treasured Paik quote, is one which I actually used to use on a flyer for Curious-Blue...."I make technology ridiculous"! He is, without doubt, a creator and innovator that will be greatly missed.
While I was hoping to entirely avoid the subject of KAOS within my post today, I feel I need to return to it in order to provide some clarification - particularly as I see a fair number of people using computers located somewhere on The Evergreen State College campus have been viewing my website (this blog included) over the past few days. Having said that, no further communication has been made between myself, and anyone at the station, as of this time. My recent comments in regard to the station, and its management in particular, should be seen as an attempt at reconciliation, rather than as inflammatory. Sometimes a forest must burn, in order for it to grow anew. The fact of the matter is, I am speaking my mind and being honest about the situation - and KAOS as a whole would be a far better place if more people did that. Yes, I want to "dismantle the dictatorship" - insofar as I want there to be more openness, more frank discussion, more gratitude toward (and between) the volunteers, and improved multi-directional communication. The thoughts I have shared are mine alone - but I know many other volunteers, staff, and listeners, agree with at least some of the points I have raised, and that those will differ from person to person. I'm not saying that I'm right - far from it. I'm saying that we're all free to agree, or disagree. And I'm saying something. As in the opposite of nothing. Nothing isn't getting us anywhere - and by us, I mean the entire KAOS community (yes, that includes YOU!). In the meantime, I continue to hope that an apology will be made for the accusations outlined in my two previous posts.</Andrew> <!--2/27/2006 08:56:00 PM-->
Sunday, February 26, 2006
<Andrew>
Be sure the truth will find you out....
Having gone to KAOS yesterday to do my show, so filled with anguish, no sooner had I arrived, as it was taken away - for the most part. Let us just say that some important questions were answered.
I definitely want to thank Jose, the host of the show before mine, for having been kind enough to have pointed out to the management that he was starting the syndicated show late, and that is why it was over-running. He apologized for how this situation had unfolded also, although I felt a little bad that he was having to. Jose did not start this, he didn't send the e-mail full of negativity and accusations to me. He just comes in and does a show, and gives it his all, every week, the same as I do. And I respect him for that, as much as I do anyone that volunteers at our community radio station.
So now, it is clear who had the agenda, and what that agenda was - it was that of the management, and it was designed to either to temporarily suspend me, or to try and increase the pressure of hostility on me to quit altogether. Thankfully, several other KAOS volunteers, and listeners to my show, have pledged their support in this situation, and not because they're my friends, or have axes to grind against those that perpetrated this....but because they see the right from the wrong in this particular instance.
So now I await the real apology - the true apology - for this situation. It can only come from the 2 management staff at KAOS, and needs to cover the 2 areas in which they were entirely wrong to accuse me of any wrong-doing. Firstly, that it was not my fault that the syndicated show in question overran, and needed to be constantly faded down early. Secondly, and far more gravely, that there was absolutely no intent on the part of myself, to be "very disrepectful" to KAOS' Spanish language volunteers, staff, and listeners, and beyond that, that no such "disrespect" ever occurred, at any time.
This time - they are definitely wrong. And an apology is definitely in order.</Andrew> <!--2/26/2006 10:57:00 PM-->
Saturday, February 25, 2006
<Andrew>
And just when you think things can't get any worse. They get worse.
Yes, you guessed it....the KAOS Community Radio management is on the warpath again. And this time, they've surpassed themselves, in their lack of research, their accusations, and in how much they've managed to make me feel completely worthless. Exactly how one makes an unpaid volunteer worth less than nothing, I do not know, but this dynamic duo have figured it out.
So what, pray, is my heinous crime this time around? Fading something out. Fading something out, just as I have faded this particular thing out for about 5 months. Having faded out similar things in the same manner for the past 8 years (no, I am not kidding!). 8 years without a single word of complaint from a listener, fellow volunteer, or manager. But, today - for the first time, I was told that I've been doing it wrong all along, and it's all my fault. Again.
The show that airs previous to mine, is a syndicated one, which is played from a CD every week. This show is usually 59 minutes, 30 seconds long, and is supposed to begin airing at 5.00pm, and be finished by 6.00pm, when my own show begins. It always over-runs, which can be for no other reason than it is being started late, and so I always have to fade out the show a little early (sometimes 1 minute, but it's been as much as 5 minutes), in order to commence my show at its correct, and widely advertised, time. For almost my entire tenure at KAOS, and I'm in my 10th year ('97 - '06), my show has immediately followed "canned" programming of this type, and it's always been faded early if it has needed to be - Always! And never once have I been told that it is not OK, and that I need to stop doing it. Would I really have gotten away with it for that long without someone noticing, for goodness sake?
That accusation in itself is bad - that the over-running of the show is somehow my fault. But that's not even the worst of it, not by a long shot.
The over-running syndicated show in question, forms part of KAOS' Spanish language programming. Of which there is not a whole lot, across the program schedule as a whole, and I have always been fully supportive of that which we do have, being there for those in the community who may need it. By my fading the show early, so as to start my own at its appointed time, the General Manager has said I am "being very disrespectful of our Spanish speaking audience". As one of KAOS' only foreign (non-American, non-U.S. citizen) community volunteers, I take an enormous amount of offence at such a comment - that I would intentionally do such a thing.
Surely, it is disrespectful to ALL of the stations listeners, to publish the start time of a show as being at 5.00pm, 6.00pm, or whenever, and have them tune in - then state that it cannot, will not, must not start at that time. Not only is that disrespectful, it's also hypocritical.
The bottom line is, double standards are rife at KAOS. And rather than manage these standards, to simply and clarify them, remove loopholes, and ease compliance, the KAOS management take the easy way out every time - by pointing the finger of blame at us, the volunteers. And, in particular, volunteers like myself, who question their motives for micro-managing us in this way.
What they often fail to realize, is what it is they are actually involved in - Community Radio. And that the volunteers are not just an integral part of that community (and as listeners, not just as programmers or producers), but also their most overlooked, and neglected part of it. The station is the only thing that unites us, no team spirit, nor even the feeling that a "team" exists - I feel we are more divided than ever.There is no pay, no appreciation, no thanks. Just rules, revisions to the rules, and punishment for not following them - sometimes even when you are. If that doesn't sound like a community, it's because it isn't - it is a hierarchy, and beyond that, a dictatorship.
So why not just walk away and forget about it, I hear you ask? Well, firstly because my heart is in it - I wouldn't do it at all otherwise. And secondly....BECAUSE THEY WANT ME TO! And I will not give them the satisfaction.
If there are any other haters reading this, who've been meaning to bring it, but just haven't been able to get around to it....your fellow doom and gloom merchants would appear to be indicating in your general direction that now is a good time.
You know, I've written a whole lot about this now, and it's taken me a long time to get the wording right, and so on - but my worries about this whole stupid thing, pale into insignificance against those for my Grandmother - who suffered a fall yesterday, breaking a leg in the process. So badly, apparently, that the doctors had to take bone from her pelvis to fuse and splint the break. I know that she cannot stand being in hospital either. It's at times like this that I'm more thankful than ever for the closeness, character, and respect within my family. It's always a good thing to be thankful for, regardless. Here's to me and mine - shouts out to you and yours. Loved and respected.</Andrew> <!--2/25/2006 12:02:00 AM-->
Thursday, February 23, 2006
<Andrew>
A post of two-halves....
Locked out of the love-in: Either 2006 is the year when people finally have it in for me (having discovered what I really think about a great many of them? Perhaps they have a point....), or the year when I've suddenly become more sensitive, or - more likely - aware of people's motives for living - words, choices, gestures. And I was already fairly aware, but just in other ways, I suppose (was I naive then, or more up-tight now?). At work, and outside in the world, it's been a rough old run. Even what at first appears quite an ordinary exchange, often thinly veils a pointed phrase, a wall of silence, a blank stare instead of a smile. And you try to keep your chin up, but some of the bitterness stays with you - walking to the bus stop in the morning, you can taste it. Definitely glad that things are stable, sane, and loving at home (when we want them to be, anyway - there's nothing wrong with a little insanity now and again). We had the Summer Of Love. Behold, the Winter Of Jaded Indifference.
Spring, thankfully, is on its way.
Loved out of the lock-in: There's something to be said for the single, as opposed to the album. It's the age old battle of immediacy vs. inconvenience. Record labels want you to buy albums, as they make more money off of them. Artists want you to buy them, so that you may show your adoration, make an investment in what they represent - and I'm not saying that's all bad, because sometimes they sincerely mean it, either in attitude, or the way the music just shines through to win you over. Pay-per-song music downloads would appear to offer a fairly nice bridge between these two worlds....but what's in it for us? Sure, we get the good song off the album of filler we didn't really care for, and perhaps for only a dollar too. But, as we know, in effect we haven't really bought anything, because the fine print states we can only do what they want with it - copy it so many times, perhaps listen to it only so many times. Why buy what you can't own? Isn't that called renting? "Dude, I leased the greatest song last night....". My heart just isn't in it - yet.</Andrew> <!--2/23/2006 11:02:00 PM-->
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
<Andrew>
Home alone this evening - so in order to relax, forget about work, and any other parts of the outside world we don't like at the moment for that matter, myself and Catbrother Mog G. have been absorbing ourselves in music, football on the TV, food, and double-shot caipirinhas. Well, Moggy actually went for canned cat meat in place of the latter....he's strictly a catnip man these days. A full-stomached, rhythmic numbness ensued for us both, interspersed with the stroking of our respective disco beards.
I rarely listen to songs continuously over and over again any more - I used to fairly often as a child, lost in complete wonderment at 3 minutes of important something. But this evening, I did. Nana Caymmi's rendition of "Cala Boca Menino" is the auditory equivalent of a caipirinha - sweet yet potent, refreshing, addictive, and incessant. While singing the song, with it's repetitive refrain, revolving in an escalating loop, like a needle stuck on the funkiest 5 seconds of the funkiest James Brown jam, Caymmi almost appears to be rendering herself breathless - whether it was her intent to leave her listeners that way is not known to me....but the effects of my extended exposure to it have done pretty much that. The closest (yet distant) equivalent I can conjour up in my mind, would be "Totally Wired" by The Fall. Beautiful, important, paranoid....</Andrew> <!--2/22/2006 11:17:00 PM-->
Monday, February 20, 2006
<Andrew>
Well, I feel too tired and irritable to post anything of substance today, but post I shall all the same. Too much charity work has seen to that (that's charity as in 'free', insofar as the corporate entity who employ me are not in fact a charity....get it? I wish I didn't). The effect is heightened yet further by the fact that I haven't shaved in over two weeks - so my muzzle is fuzzled. Come on fellas, it's winter time - fuzzle your muzzle.
My radio show on Saturday was notable for the fact that I actively and positively did not want to do it - and this is an extremely rare feeling for me, no matter how downtrodden or sorry-for-myself I'm feeling. As it was, it turned out alright, and I was heartened by the fact that the previous host told me that someone from Wyoming had called the station, and was waiting patiently to hear my show. So it was worth it after all. Most of the time I am convinced, to within a certain degree, that no bugger whatsoever is tuning in. Forget tough at the top - fuck 'em - lower down the ladder it is just as tough, more lonely, and lower paid.
Recent televisual relief has emerged in the shape of "Ladette To Lady", a UK import from ITV, currently being screened on the Sundance Channel. Although the premise is somewhat suspect (a group of female boozing/swearing/pubbing/clubbing types, are willingly enrolled into an old-fashioned Finishing School, for an Eliza Doolittle-like transformation into posh talking/upright walking/demurely clothed/domesticated faux-toff 'ladies'), the resulting show is actually heartwarmingly funny, and at times, raucously hilarious, in a way American television just never is - an example being a wine tasting where at least one of the girls was drinking all of the samples, rather than spitting them out, resulting in a full-on, slurred speech backwards collapse off of her chair....certainly a very British (perhaps almost too much so) spin, on what is rapidly becoming a tired, cumbersome old world of "reality" TV.
Has anyone stopped for a second to consider whose messed up fucking reality all of these "shows" are actually supposed to represent? Then again, perhaps it's mine. I shall go away and, er....consult my demographics.</Andrew> <!--2/20/2006 08:53:00 PM-->
Wednesday, February 15, 2006
<Andrew>
Back in Olympia, after a few days in Portland, taking a break from the normal routine - which felt good, just as it should - and tied in nicely with Valentine's Day also. Mostly it was clear and cold, but just before we left, it snowed for a scant few minutes, much to the disbelief of just about everyone. We stayed at our new favourite spot, which was unpretentious, welcoming, and blissfully free of a television, although the rooms do now have wireless internet - not that we bought a laptop. To be honest, it was extremely nice to be without a computer too. We ate food, we drank beer, we walked and breathed city air, rode the train, the light rail, the streetcar, and listened to the passing freight trains rolling by not far from our window, deep into the dead of night, and out into the morning light.
It left both myself & B. once again bemoaning the lack of a Whole Foods Market, or Trader Joe's, in Olympia, for the sheer weight of dietary excitement it would bring to the populace - Portland now has one of each. Although, by way of consolation, we did go to Cost Plus World Market this afternoon (as I decided not to go into work today either - thinking it would be easier to slowly transition into such things, which it will be - believe me....), which has been a very welcome addition to the barren (not to mention hostile....thanks Olympia) local shop-scape. As well as stocking up on both PG Tips and Typhoo tea (there are subtle differences, and not just in the bag shape either), I bought some 85% cocoa dark chocolate, which for some strange reason I have been craving of late, and also - by way of sheer indulgence - a jar, small but sumptuously heavy, of dulce de leche. And not some caramel flavoured, half-arsed rip-off of dulce de leche, but made in Argentina, spoon stands up in it and you just want to eat the entire jar in one go, knockout, hole in one, three up after 15 minutes, real dulce de leche, courtesy of the fine folks at Interrupcion. When, eventually, my inevitable death sentence is handed down by the powers that be (and I don't know which powers that be will eventually do this, but at some point, they will), my choice of extermination will be to eat and drink myself to death on dulce de leche, lemon curd, stout, and cachaca. It will be a messy, sugar-high of a death, but....my word, it'll be worth it.
I bought a couple of books from Powells while I was there too - one of which was the Caetano Veloso book, "Tropical Truth - A Story Of Music & Revolution In Brazil", which I had been meaning to buy for some time, and the sale price sucked me in instantly. While picking through it a little today (actually, for well over an hour this morning, which is not something I can normally accomplish, and reveals something of the magnetism of this particular volume), I found to be inspiring and bedazzling in equal measure - although a lot of this has to do with background (Brazilian history and culture, philosophy) which begs to be explored more deeply upon having been revealed - and in a manner that is indeed enthusiastic and revelatory - rather than layers of words building a density of extraneous, codified language, obscuring the text and the actual nature of the book, and the subject matter. It is a work of depth, yes - but like a pool of water, you could lie down and look up from beneath, and the sun would shine through it. Some of the sentences literally shimmer. I came away thinking - a lot - and about many different things - and not just music, not just internationalism, or the nature of people and what propels them through life....but different, interlocking combinations of them, and much more besides.
I'll never forget the first time I heard Caetano's music, as well as that of Gilberto Gil, after having read so much about it (and the Tropicalia movement in general, in particular) previously, but never actually hearing it with my own ears....it was on a plane. I don't remember exactly which airline (it was either United or Scandinavian), or what year it was (2002 or 2003), but the rotating channel on the entertainment system, the one that is programmed by one of the Star Alliance airlines, was this time being done by Varig, the Brazilian carrier. And it was about a 1 to 2 hour loop of their music, with spoken segments in between, that described and explained the songs, their long careers, and the circumstances that informed them. The beauty and fragility, and sheer emotional impact, their ability to evoke pictures in my mind through only the sound of their words (not being to speak a word of Portuguese, I could only go by their spoken descriptions of the tracks beforehand), was absolutely incredible....and I listened to that looped segment for almost the entire duration of my transatlantic flight. Then, I did the same for quite some time on the way home, also (alternating with - dig this - prime cuts from Jimi Hendrix, and Sly & The Family Stone, who were featured artists on a different channel). Since then, I have purchased CD's, and so on - but the initial, soothing, warming impact of their music on me, during that flight, was something very special - and no doubt explains my being able to recount the experience in such detail, even to the point where the other details, such as the year and the airline, to be rendered opaque (or at the very least, translucent) in its wake.
I wouldn't mind, but this isn't the only time that music - and, would you believe, Brazilian music at that - on a flight has had such a profound effect on me, and made me look inside myself and reflect. January 1997 - leaving a freezing, ice-encrusted Gatwick Airport (where I had spent the night even, sleeping across some seats, with my feet looped through the handles of my bag, as some kind of primitive human anti-theft device), I flew to Malta, for an extremely cheap winter week away. About 3 hours or so into the flight, with the tiny islands below coming into view as we descended towards them, something - and something unlike pretty much anything that had preceded it, in the bland 60's and 70's UK oldies department - drifted into my ears from my headset, that illuminated my entire vacation that followed it. It was Astrud Gilberto - "(Take Me To) Aruanda". Seeing the blue sea, the blue sky, the green and brown land, ever shifting in proportions and perception, in relation to my universe, hearing those words, that voice....I could not resist. By the end of that week in Malta (where it was 68 degrees upon my landing, incidentally - a world away from Southern England in a symbolic, if not literal, sense), I had resolved to save some money over the next few months, throw in my job, and travel. And in April of that year, I left Brighton, and came to Olympia.
Needless to say, I still dream of finding Aruanda - that is to say, my own personal one, as opposed to the actual one. In the meantime, there is much research to be done....</Andrew> <!--2/15/2006 09:46:00 PM-->
Thursday, February 09, 2006
<Andrew>
And tonight we're joined by a rather needy Catbrother Mog G., who finally gained access to my lap after a prolonged series of "brrrrmiaow!" exchanges.
I've been pondering, as I do from time to time, about the nature of the internet, and whether we've reached the point of saturation - and by that I don't mean conceptually, or technologically....hell, no. Ain't seen nothing yet there. I'm referring to information overload, media saturation. The internet has grown more quickly, and been contributed to by more individuals, than any other form of media in existence. There are ways to search, refine, and collate (or aggregate) these masses and masses of documents, words, and images that exist, but even that only helps up to a point. Being able to type keywords into a search engine, and have it return the results of that search almost instantaneously, is a truly amazing thing. But your search may likely produce millions of possible hits, and therefore, options. If the information you seek is present in hit # 1, or hit # 5, or even hit # 99, then you're in luck....but what if it's in hit # 625,467? And what if the information in that hit is exactly what you seek, but actually turns out to be flawed or inaccurate? Then yet another hit provides even more of a conflict? So then, who should you trust? Who is worthy of that trust? Decisions, decisions.
Whatever happened to better, faster, easier?
Social networking, keywords, tags, metadata, content filtering, and so on....they're all words you see bandied around a lot - connecting people, bringing them together, sharing their information, their wants, needs, desires. Writing a note, and passing it on, and passing it on, and on. The content is there - the entire internet (which is, of course, significantly more vast than the bit that you can see through the windows of Google, Yahoo, or Microsoft). It's growing every day, changing, morphing....being digested, forwarded, shared, reshaped, recycled, collaged. But a lot of it is being ignored, either because it is less obvious than that which surrounds it, or, as is sometimes the case (and I can be as guilty of this as anyone else, so I'm not going to preach double standards here), its credentials are insufficient - it does not carry the relevant cache of immediate importance to us. We're fickle. How can we easily, or more easily, compile that content we care about into something portable, digestible, and that isn't a huge time-suck (technology owes a lot of us a percentage of our lives back at this point)? Something like a TV Guide is useless in terms of the internet - you simply cannot reliably click on a channel, at a certain time, and expect to see what is listed. That's the beauty, and the beast, of multi-directional media.
I would like to share more or myself in this way - many other people would too, without necessarily having to commit to typing a whole bunch of words every day into a blog. Perhaps it could be something more lightweight, gestural, flexible....something that positions you in the physical and technological universe. And I'd like to be able to do it without having to wade through endless installation and configuration documents, or feel like I need to have a degree in fucking Computer Science in order to get the thing up, tailored, and working, in a manner that is going to bring me (and anyone else that may care to share or investigate) joy. Why does happiness lack so in the world of application? Frustration, limitations, panic, and simply making do, are not cutting it. Solutions exist, but they are so fragmented or localized. There are enough innovators, financiers, technologists, artists, theorists, coders, and end users in the world to make this happen - not soon, but tomorrow. And without some big corporation coming along and buying it up and making you create accounts stuffed full of personal details which you have to login to every single fucking time you go there (and that they can sell on for an even bigger profit, as well as use to target you with advertising for the rest of your existence...."demographics"? Yeah, boyeeeee.....). Many of the current applications utilizing variations on this concept, are very good indeed - intuitive, well designed, well defined. Others are not. And while rivals like Google, Yahoo, and Microsoft, squabble over buying up every little upstart startup that comes along - their interoperability is going to continue to suck. The picture is framed, but the canvas is bare.
Be reasonable - demand the impossible. Or kindly point out that it isn't. In the mean time....PING! I'm alive. So are you.
Special mention goes to Comrade T-Man for clueing me into some hot new phraseology - apparently, in reference to Elton John's somewhat overblown and erratic 80's musical output, Adam Carolla surmised (on his radio show, even) that he must've been "spunk drunk". Something tells me the fella had to have cribbed that from Vice or something. Either that, or Vice will just steal it for their next issue. What goes around comes around.
Over at the DJ History forum, we have been discussing the relative merits of various old (although some of them are actually still used to this day) BBC television sports theme tunes. Several of these are worthy of attention in the cosmic/space disco realm, just becuase they're just so....far out (man).
My favourite was always the one for Darts - though when I sourced a copy (and not a fantastic one at that) of the full tune on the web, it clocked it at a paltry 1 minute 50 seconds....how on earth is that supposed to sustain the pulsating energy of the dance (er, darts?) floor.
Now, how does 4 minutes and 30 seconds of Fast Asleep Club-enhanced grooving grab you?
All of which frivolity is dedicated to my Dad - who was (and I suppose still is) a fantastic dart player. How fantastic? - almost 50 big shining trophies fantastic, that's how - although he gave a lot of them away, and stuck the rest in the loft, a few years ago, as my Mum was fed up with dusting them all. I remember when he won the Watney's "Champion Of Champions" title - I'm pretty sure this was 1979. The trophy was as big as I was at the time, although my Dad only got to keep a scaled down version of this gold painted chrome, wood, and marble behemoth - which, wherever it is these days, bears a small shield with his name engraved, for that particular year.
Oh, and by the way - the new image on the home page? Another true story - Peter was our first family cat. He did indeed board and ride a Southdown bus, before being found by schoolchildren, and taken to Pet Rescue, whom my Mum claimed him from the next day, after seeing his picture - that picture - in the Brighton local paper, the Evening Argus. There was a follow-up article published the next day (I think) with a picture of us (my 2 year old self included), reunited with our Peter puss.
Alas, it was not to last. Peter was too friendly and inquisitive for his own good. Running across the road outside our house, probably to go and be stroked by one of our neighbours, he was knocked down and killed by a car. He would have been about 2 years old at the time.
But Peter's death bought another visit to Pet Rescue, on Valentine's Day 1976 - and, along with it, a black and white cat called Sooty, already a few years old - and the cornerstone of my cat universe until his death in 1993.
Almost 30 years since Sooty....where does the time go?</Andrew> <!--2/03/2006 10:32:00 PM-->
Sunday, January 29, 2006
<Andrew>
Happy New Year....wha'? It's January 29th....already?
Where have I been? Where exactly. Work, home from time to time, and gathering up a fair mass of various ye olde disco records, and the like. How many olde disco records? Lots. Have I been doing anything else much? Not really. It's been a strange few weeks, in which, among other things, Olympia broke it's record for the number of days of rainfall in a row....used to be 33, is now 35. Thirty-five straight days with rain, that's right. And after a 2 day (that's two whole days - count 'em) break, it was straight back to that rain, too.
What's up with people beating up on me in 2006, too? Either with the verbal bruising overload, or the lack thereof? What'd I do to deserve that? (aside from be myself - OK?). Another note on my KAOS file too, for....er, following the rules. Just not this weeks' Training and Operations (Micro-)Management rules though. You changed them? Oh boy....and there I was doing what I've always done.
Oh well - you're not going to get rid of me. Sorry! Too many listeners call in and tell me I'm wonderful....though even I don't believe them sometimes. But only because I consider it my job to doubt myself more than they do....
All this, and my hair is the longest it's been in years.</Andrew> <!--1/29/2006 09:44:00 PM-->
Sunday, December 04, 2005
<Andrew>
As it's still so damn cold outside, I'm still feeling so damn tired, and the house is so damn quiet and empty without B., today my mind turned to....putting my Fast Asleep Club hat on for some Re-Edit madness! Yep, that's right. After talking to my parents, checking in with Catbrother Mog G., and consuming some tea and porridge (that's oatmeal to some of you), I've been sat tinkering with various tracks of yore. Mostly ones I've always regretted not being longer, in certain places. I'm not saying they're now better or something - no way! But perhaps they may just hold the attention of the dance floor a little bit longer than they used to. Or make you want to gaze at the stars/ceiling/floor (delete as appropriate).
So, that's been my day. So far. "Mile High" is on later though - can't miss that. Take a listen, why don't you....? Click on the links below, then save them in the manner appropriate to your operating system (all are 128kbps MP3 files):
Consider this a precursor to my trying to get (at some point) a good chunk of the past 6 years (!) of Fast Asleep Club output onto the web for free download. I have the webspace now (courtesy of The Box), now I just need the time....</Andrew> <!--12/04/2005 06:37:00 PM-->
Saturday, December 03, 2005
<Andrew>
Brrr! That's word of the week around these parts.
After an entire week where I really didn't sleep well, when I did eventually make it to bed that is, working the day and night shifts again yesterday, into this morning, just about finished me off. I'm glad that I at least have Monday off by way of "compensation" - I think I'm going to need it too. Thankfully, doing my radio show tonight really cheered me up....and what a show it turned out to be, too. One of those rare ones where every single thing just fell into place perfectly, and not one slip-up or technical hitch occurred the whole way through either.
It's quiet around here this evening, as B. is gone. I don't think either one of us does quite so well when the other isn't around, which is why we don't make a habit of such things. She had to depart at fairly short notice to help with caring for her grandmother, who hasn't been well of late. Before she left, while I was away at work for all eternity yesterday, she wrote little post-it notes for me, and put them all around the house. And I've been noticing tiny little shrinky-dink artworks about the place also, here and there....I'd much rather just have her to snuggle up to though, or look at the internet or watch mind-vaporizing television with. That's what love is all about in the '05 - seen?
Catbrother Mog G., with his extra-sensory magick cat powers and all that, detected the lonely atmosphere, and did something he usually never seems to do - crawled under the bed covers and slept, while I was in the bed. This is an activity that Moggy invariably has to do alone. Something to do with his special feline cloaking shield, or some such. He tries to explain, but when he does, it all sounds like "miaow, miaow", which I know is far from his intent.
Aside from the above, I've been buying christmas presents for loved ones, records for myself, and tonight, some of my new favorite vodka - which perhaps, I've written about here before, but then again....it's called Volk (apparently, this means "Wolf"), and it's from Moldova. Yes, that's right - just past Romania, on the way to Ukraine. I guess I don't know if it's made in Moldova proper, or the (almost universally unrecognized) breakaway republic of Trans-Dniester. Where, apparently, one of the largest caches of abandoned Soviet weaponry sits waiting for you. Regardless, they sure know how to make some good vodka.
All of which reminds me....forward thinking internationalist, cerebral thug, and all-round BBC advocate that I am, you really ought to download some editions of Radio 4's long-established, and wonderfully globe encompassing, documentary strand, "From Our Own Correspondent". Or subscribe to the podcast, even. Both of which can be investigated right here. No corner of the world left untouched, guaranteed. Just the way news should be!</Andrew> <!--12/03/2005 09:41:00 PM-->
Wednesday, November 23, 2005
<Andrew>
Wow....I guess there are a couple of landmarks here.
This is my 100th blog post. When you consider that it's been active since July 2002, that doubtless gives me a utterly lousy days-per-post average. As you can probably see from this month though, I'm working on bettering that - I know some of you care about such things. Some others may well consider it to be a bad thing. And the rest are indifferent, and at some online store or other buying more stuff. The web used to be stuffed with information - now it's gorged with commerce. But it's prettier to look at, downloads faster, and has sound, pictures, and video that are actually usable, and useful. Give and take in other words. And I feel that for the most part, what bloggers give, no matter how trivial the input and content, helps to offset the take from the worst excesses of electronic capitalism, and the mainstream media - and their ability to be in your face no matter where you turn, and whether you like it or not.
Also, Curious-Blue has now had a web presence of some sort for 10 years....since I first ventured onto the internet from home with Mistral Internet, a local Brighton firm who offered 28.8kpbs dial-up service, in December 1995. They bundled in a little bit of web space on their server also, and it cost (as I recall) 100 Pounds per year. I didn't have the fancy domain names back then, or much else fancy for that matter - including the bank-breaking no-frills 75Mhz Pentium PC that made it all happen back in the day.
Tomorrow is thanksgiving here in the U.S. - and I can certainly appreciate the occasion for its sense of family getting together, and the supposed undercurrent of taking stock of what has occurred since this same time a year ago, and giving thanks to yourself, and to others, that have bought you to where you are now, today, and contributed positively to your continued existence. But you know, not being from here, not being a citizen, not having a lot invested in the concept of "America" (enough to continue to stay here though, strangely, so I have no right to elevate this to the level of a complaint - I'm just putting it out there, nothing more....), I'm not so, so into it really. Not 100% all the way into it. You want to know why?
Here's why....(sound of dragging soapbox):
Take a day to pat yourself, and those you love or care about to any degree, on the back - by all means. Each and every one of us on this Earth deserves that. And, therein lies the rub. When I see on the BBC World News that thousands upon thousands of people are still without aid and shelter in Pakistan and India, following the South Asian earthquake, when I see people dying of starvation, and the most basic, treatable infections and illnesses, in Sudan and Niger (among numerous other suffering nations/peoples), when I hear of countless innocents being slain in bombings, shootings, and military operations in the name of "war" or "terrorism", it becomes obvious to me that although we all deserve to be able to give thanks for our days, and our lives, too many people in the world will never even have the chance to try.
So, do pat yourself on the back with one hand - but use the other one to form a fist, and shake that fist at your government. They were elected, perhaps not by you, but they won all the same, and hold the power to work together with other nations to make real, significant change. And they could do it tomorrow, or at least make a start. But they won't. Or the next day. Or the day after that.
For how much longer....(sound of putting soapbox away again).</Andrew> <!--11/23/2005 08:05:00 PM-->
Monday, November 21, 2005
<Andrew>
Clearing out some old e-mails, it's a bittersweet thing - mostly getting rid of the junk, and pardoning the rest. Reminds me of a few different things, as it goes.
A couple of times in this past year, I've said things to friends and acquaintances of mine that I meant in all seriousness, but either went right over their heads, or were seemingly taken as being archly sarcastic. I have a certain amount of blame in the latter, as I can be as sarcastic as all get out - but, you know, I'm British, and I have my father, the fountainhead of scathing one-liners and South Coast sarcasm, as my tutor in all of this. And I'm happy with that. But it's diminished my feelings and respect for these individuals, to a certain extent. I mean, if I'm going to say something in support of them, as a representation of my caring for them - and they know what I'm like too, within certain extremes, as regards people in general - then they ought to know that it means something.
Then there's the part where I'm directly to blame - looking back at all of the little 'reply' arrows on older e-mails, then seeing how they've tapered off gradually over time. It's partly a good thing - becuase I have more of a life now, more happiness and togetherness now, not just stuck drinking in front of the computer every night, trying to make some kind of connection with the outside world (though perhaps, I could be excused tonight....Lagunitas Stout is very good). But partly it's because I can be lazy, spiteful, or both, from time to time. And then time passes, and e-mails bury other e-mails, and people disappear and re-appear like leaves on the trees.
Anyhow - enough psychologizing. Like I should be so hard on people - self included. Bloody cheek! As I'm supposed to consider myself a staunch realist, I'll now escape back to reality, some bath water, and a razor blade. Although there's something vaguely appealing about my 8-day stubble. Sets off the grown-out hair a treat, especially with a black shirt on....</Andrew> <!--11/21/2005 09:09:00 PM-->
Wednesday, November 16, 2005
<Andrew>
With the gripping cold & sinus saga entering a third week, I took drastic action, and visited a doctor (not my doctor though, he was out), who swiftly dispensed some potent antibiotic. So we're surely talking endgame on that one now. About time too. However, it now appears that I have some kind of blood pressure problem. The nurse had to check it 3 times to make sure it was right, but whatever it was, it was. I have some serious family history in this regard stacked against me, and have only avoided it this far because of my being a vegetarian, and eating all that Shredded Wheat, Oatmeal, and yoghurt all the time. Or something - I don't know. As a precaution, I'm backing away from alcohol a little. At least to see if it does anything. Who knows, maybe the figures the nurse quoted for me, aren't really all that much to worry about in the wider world, the grand scheme of things. I'll be calling my usual doctor to find out though, that's for sure.
Away from what ails me, I've been being hailed in some quarters (at work, but variously elsewhere also) as a nice guy. A good guy, even. I sure hope word of this doesn't spread too far. I have a reputation to think of. Too many people have said it this week though. As my boss put it to me so succintly (as he always manages to, somehow) in an e-mail today: "What have you done with the real Andrew?".
I must pull out that extravagantly lengthy Spanish-language rendition of "Ain't No Stoppin' Us Now" for my show this week. And that PIL track I keep repeating the intro to, over and over in my head - yet can't remember exactly which one it is. And I really want to re-edit the long, percussive section from "Mother Sky" by Can into some dub disco dynamite....something tells me the end result will always fall short of how I am imagining it to be though.
Sigh. You can't always live the fantasies, but that doesn't make thinking about them any less pleasurable whatsoever.</Andrew> <!--11/16/2005 08:36:00 PM-->
Sunday, November 13, 2005
<Andrew>
There's is definitely something going on with this year's variant of the common cold. Everyone seems to be coming down with it - which probably isn't that big of a surprise, but damn....this thing is persistent. Most people who have it, have been suffering at least a week. I'm entering my third week now, and it feels like I have it fresh all over again since yesterday. Something inside me wonders if that mold at the old house hasn't made it mutate into something else. Supercold! Fuelled by microscopic mushrooms, sauteed lightly in mucus on the walls of my lungs. I'm suffering, and my germs are eating fucking Cordon Bleu. Why can't they leave me alone? Feed me antibiotics, please!
Probably hasn't helped that I've not had much of a break from work this week - feels like it's been looking over my shoulder, since Monday. It's probably in cahoots with those germs.
I did, at least, get to go down to Portland on Wednesday evening, for a work-related product demo/informational session, which also begat food (although they didn't have anything vegetarian save for the fruit platter, and some lemon bars....Mmmmm), and free tickets to see the Portland Trailblazers whoop the New York Knicks. According to T-Man, who accompanied me on this jaunt, the Blazers won't be getting to do much of that this season most likely, which made it all the more impressive. 10 points down at half time, 12 points up at the finish. Can't argue with that, although the Rose Garden was only about half full. Portland - step up for your team!
The new place is coming together nicely, mostly thanks to B. it has to be said, though we're doing what we can, and for me that isn't a whole lot right now I suppose. It's really starting to feel like home, for us at least. Moggy is still approaching things with a little trepidation, and, save for one extended adventure, he hasn't ventured outside since we moved, and has shown little interest in wanting to do so. He seems happy to explore his new lair, albeit in constant fear of just about everything. When things get too much, he pulls himself under the duvet, and hides under there for sleep therapy. Wait a minute - maybe he has this all figured out, and we don't....
The radio show must have been good last night, because I really enjoyed listening to it while it was going on....something about the sequence of the tracks just worked. I think. It all seemed very logical, like a jigsaw puzzle or something. The playlist for it is, of course, over here.
I've just discovered the Hellominor line of t-shirts (thanks Turntable Lab), which are fine, humorous, and mysterious in equal measure. That's a lot of different things for a t-shirt to be, which has got to say something. And I finally have a new record bag to replace the Rough Trade one which was wounded inside and out in the Great Mold Wars of 2005. It even has built in safety features....the graffiti graphic is printed in reflective ink, so cars can see me shining as I cross the street. Or as they drunkenly mount the sidewalk, mistaking it for road in their booze-sodden haze.
"Cult Cargo - Belize City Boil Up", a CD of vintage funky sounds from Belize, is pretty fantastic too. Numero Group are an interesting label, and very widespread in their musical taste too. Very refreshing in this day and age, let me tell you.
My excitement from music just keeps building and building. Thinking about certain songs just makes my spine tingle. Love, food, and music. Who needs anything else?</Andrew> <!--11/13/2005 12:26:00 PM-->
Friday, November 11, 2005
<Andrew>
There's been a lot in the press over the past few days about Sony/BMG's XCP CD copy-protection software, that pretty much amounts to a rootkit that can inflict unwanted changes and/or damage onto a person's PC without their knowledge. AND DESERVEDLY SO! This is utter corporate music bullshit of the highest order, and it's about time consumers just started to say "No!" to Digital Rights Management of this magnitude, or of any magnitude for that matter. It's wonderful to see that, for the most part, they are indeed saying that. Particularly now that there are at least 3 (currently) known malicious exploits that feed off of Sony's little monster. This is dangerous - and worst of all, Sony won't even publish a list of the CD's that they've added this to, although keen-eyed purchasers have so far reported 19 titles.
Well, here's something I haven't done for a little while - worked a day shift, then had to turn around and work a night shift. It only really happens anymore when someone calls in sick at short notice, much as they did earlier today in fact. It's not as obnoxious as it sounds either, not this time at least. I've been sleeping pretty poorly lately as it is, and feel fairly OK. Plus, it's far too noisy (and cold) to contemplate even the thought of falling asleep. Come the morning, I shall stumble off the bus to my doorstep, pop in some earplugs, and fall inside. Tune out for a few hours.
I am certainly happy that one of my favorite websites - UbuWeb - is back online, and better than ever. It is so very heartening to behold their ever-expanding effort to make experimental and avant-garde sound/written/visual art available in the public domain, exactly where certain of the arts establishment would rather it wasn't.
It's also heartening to have reminded myself (a little, at least) lately, that in these times of short attention spans, growing impatience, and instant gratification, that; 1) Persistence with music still pays off....you're just not always going to get some things on the first listen. If you don't have the time or energy now, come back to it later. 2) It's still joyous to re-discover that certain elements of the musical universe (and your own record collection) that once may have been dismissed as crap, or filed away and forgotten, can eventually mature in the ears and the brain, rather like a nice bit of cheese. Mmmm....Stilton. On a McVities Digestive. My mouth waters at the thought.
We've really been enjoying watching "Mile High" on BBC America - in fact it's the only television show I am making any kind of time for to watch at the moment, anything else I either happen across, or am just feeling lazy and stuck in front of the TV. You could could describe it as lightweight drama, with a bit of comedy, sex, and bad language thrown in for good measure. British Low Culture at its disposable, yet lovable best. Take it from a British Low Culturalist.
I'm getting the chills, and beginning to curl up at the edges. Must be time for another cup of tea.</Andrew> <!--11/08/2005 03:27:00 AM-->
Thursday, November 03, 2005
<Andrew>
Well, my cold is slowly shrinking away, and has sunk (mostly) from my nasal passages into my chest, giving me the gravelly vocal presence of a Barry White impersonator. In between hacking coughs and rampant throat clearing, that is. I took a day off work today to try and kill it off. I think it helped too.
Plus, me and B. are still working at settling into our new nest. Such a newer, roomier nest it is too. Space to put things! And organize stuff! And feel like the walls aren't closing in on us! And there's no mold! We're really trying to forget about the mold. We miss our back yard though, and our little vegetable garden out there. I think Moggy misses it too, although he hasn't been outside much yet.
You know, it really rather makes sense that I'm a latter day dubbed-out disco freak. I'm not even completely sure why, but it just feels right - especially at this time of year, rain beating against the windows, leaves blowing everywhere. Putting some lover's rock reggae on the stereo, or something like Risco Connection's version of "Ain't No Stoppin' Us Now", anything by Chic. I've never been able to stand crowded, overly noisy clubs, and never really dance (unless I'm alone, and barely even then), but there's something in either the warmth, or the icy chill, of certain sounds that just pulls me out of the dark clouds and cold winds, or anything else that may happen to be around. Lost in music....I certainly find it hard to do anything else when I'm really listening to music, trying to feel it, take it on board.
Riding the bus has become infinitely more pleasurable since buying an iPod Shuffle. Could be the best $99 I spent all year. Not that I don't like riding the bus - I do. Sometimes it's good, sometimes it's lousy, but it's always interesting. And the price point enables more scope for vinyl investments.
I must admit to buying a lot of records lately too. Collection/addiction? So long as there's time to stop, look....and listen.</Andrew> <!--11/03/2005 10:43:00 PM-->
Sunday, October 30, 2005
<Andrew>
There is much to write about - when I have some more time that is.
In summary though....: My radio show disappeared from the airwaves. It wasn't my fault. Now it is back, finally, but every Saturday evening (from 6-8pm), rather than Friday. Yesterday was my first show since returning. I have dutifully posted the playlist here.
Myself & B. went to England in September, and had a wonderful time. The only part we didn't like was having to come back.
Mold appeared in our house. Then, even more of it. So we moved out, and are now beginning to unpack and settle into a new home. It's been chaotic.
Now, I have a cold. So do countless other people. Which is probably how I got it. At least I have a packet of Fisherman's Friend and a handkerchief close to hand. I can only hope others in my position are similarly equipped.</Andrew> <!--10/30/2005 08:30:00 PM-->
Saturday, August 20, 2005
<Andrew>
At the end of July, as it trickled into August, I visited Washington, DC, primarily for work purposes (I was taking a class), but I was able to go exploring in the evenings. This was the last of a series of 3 photographs I took of the White House. For each, I stepped back from the perimeter fence a little further. The first shows the building itself, all secure behind its defences - both the ones you can see, and those you can't (which are way more frightening, most likely). The second adds a couple of gentlemen, as well as some people talking with them, one of whom is holding an "Impeach Bush" sign, the other (sporting a latex Nixon mask) a poster headed "Worse Than Watergate"....you can see them in the distance in the picture above. This final picture, from the edge of a flower bed, also shows the White House Peace Vigil encampment, in place since 1981, along with the small crowd gathered around. Most were asking questions, all were showing support. Freedom? Response....
More photos from DC to come - I took almost 200, and a real mixed bag too.
So what did I think of the city? Well, I have to say it was nothing (well, hardly anything) like I imagined it would be. I guess the only thing I really had to compare it to was New York City, and it was nowhere near as overwhelming. The city was really easy, and enjoyable, to explore on foot, and felt safe enough too - certainly, there were plenty of women walking on their own after dark, and seeming completely comfortable at doing so. I spent some time riding the subway also, and found it to be friendly enough, and again, much less crowded than in New York or London, though much more functional in design, most likely due the fact that it's a far more modern system, and was conceived as a whole, rather than assembled from existing fragments. The stations were very reminiscent of those on the recently constructed Jubilee Line extension in London - concrete and bare metal, in excelsis. It was hot, definitely, but nowhere near as bad as it can be. Only during the last 2 days was I really feeling it - I think it got up to about 97 on both of them - but other than that, it mostly stayed below 90, although very humid, always, which came as no surprise. It didn't take much walking to work up a sweat, and I bought a lot of extra clothes in anticipation of that. Some evenings, I'd just walk for hours though, just looking around, feeling as though I was doing some kind of research, or reconnaissance, which I suppose in a way, I was.
What really struck me about the place, was how many beautiful buildings there were, how many different styles of houses, modes of architecture, methods of construction. Reminded me a lot of England, in fact, and Brighton and Hove in particular. Long, sweeping terraces of tall houses, mostly now broken up into apartments, or given over to Embassies, and office space. It made me long for the big city life a little. I certainly feel at ease in that environment, with so many things to challenge me, and hold my interest. Of course, there was also good food to be eaten (aside from one rather lousy dinner experience), cold refreshing beer to be drank, the occasional cocktail to accompany that (DC lends itself wonderfully to Mojitos in particular), and attractive staff to bring them all to my table.
I went and saw a lot of the tourist-y things, not surprisingly. And, why not? The White House, the Washington Monument, the Capitol Building. Some were more impressive than others. As most of the Smithsonian-related Museums closed at 5.30, and my classes ended each day at 5.00, I didn't really get to explore them to any huge degree - just a brief charge around the Smithsonian Natural History, and American History museums, and the Hirschorn Art Gallery. But even that was nice - and it's always easier to hurry when you're somewhere new, and you know your time there is running out.
Something fun that I just happened to stumble across, was a yard sale - and more than that, a yard sale almost designed to get my attention. Out walking one lunch time, I spotted a flyer for it on a telephone pole....and noticed (excitedly) that the top item listed as being for sale was "Late 70's/Early 80's Disco records"! It just so happened it was that very day, and was going on until 6.00pm, so if I walked fast straight from the hotel after class, I should make it in time for a little digging. Now, I knew that by mentioning the records so prominently, that it must mean there were quite a few, but when I finally made it to the small house on a side-street after my 40-minute dash, there, on one side of the front yard, were milk crates, and boxes....lined up one after the other. I'm guessing about 2000 pieces of vinyl, maybe more. Thankfully, the guy having the sale said I could take my time going through them, even though I was so late. The price? One dollar each, no exceptions. Some were in a sorry state, covers all eaten away, others were still in the shrink-wrap. There were some 90's house/techno 12"s mixed in here and there too, sweetening the pot even further. A lot of them were DJ promos. Lots of Salsoul, weird post-Star Wars sci-fi disco, some Donna Summer, all kinds of stuff I'd never heard of, and only wish I knew more about, not that I'd likely ever see them again. Decisions were tough, I could only carry so many, but I finally settled on 16, which we shook on for $15. You've got to love that. It was one of those "Coincidence vs. Fate" moments in a person's life. And one of the things that just made the trip, that's for sure.
My class was great too by the way - in our sessions, there were only 5 of us, including the instructor, which made it a lot more rewarding, I think. I came away knowing I could spread a little more technology-related paranoia, but also be able to cope better with the causes of it.
So, in short, I really liked it, and would love to back and explore a little more some time. I probably have more to write about it too, and shall, when I can get to thinking a little more.
It's good to get away. I'm planning more of it too, since my return. That and eating, drinking, doing chores, going to work, and, this morning at least, listening to near-endless variations on King Jammy's "Sleng Teng" rhythm, in my sunlit work room, with a constant stream of tea and coffee in my cup. "Away in my brain....I don't wanna, I don't wanna go insane".
The latest Curious-Blue playlists are posted over here also. So much good music around at the moment, just from all over the place, all different speeds, styles, shapes, and sizes (at some point, perhaps, I'll go into specifics....). It's at times like this, that I need to remember what T-Man always says to me, "You can't own them all, every single record ever made". It's true, but that doesn't mean it isn't fun to try!</Andrew> <!--8/20/2005 11:46:00 AM-->
Thursday, July 21, 2005
<Andrew>
Summer nightfall in Portland, Oregon, where it was sunshine all the way for the 3 days we just spent there. And it seemed cooler outside than it was in the place we were staying, which gave us all the more reason to wander around, and take things in, to the very best of our abilities.
6 months away from writing (or posting here, at least) and where has it got me? Well, not very far in some regards, but it has given me pause for thought about many things. In particular, the nature of blogs, and other forms of self-documentation, the immediacy and distribution of the day-to-day existence of countless people, and what that actually means. But what does anything mean? Sometimes it seems as if those of us who are pre-disposed to thinking, then analyzing those thoughts, and then searching for some context and meaning, somewhere, anywhere....it's like a punishment from time to time, like a form of self-impairment, or obfuscation. Like going to see a show you're really, really excited about, then buying the cheapo ticket directly behind the pillar holding that holds the ceiling up (which may not be a bad thing, depending on who it is you're seeing).
New rule - except, actually it's an old one, put to a new use: Only write about things that you care about and/or affect you. Humans are 90-something percent water. If I am a pond, what would make waves, ripples, bubbles?
Very nice show of artists from Osaka, Japan at the Compound Gallery. Stand-outs included the delirious drawings-of-drawings by ZanPon, which need to be studied in minute detail to appreciate them, and the animation of Mimi Murai, which can be viewed on a tiny orange television, while sitting on the soft, clean wood floor.
What else have I been up to since the end of January? Stuff! Stuff like you do in your life, I shouldn't wonder. I'm sure you have a better grip on it than I do too.
I didn't lose sight of the fact that I am a realist, I suppose. There are millions of images, millions of sounds, millions of people out there, and you can see them, interact with them, and describe what they mean to you, like never before. In the face of all those others, are mine really important? Who knows! Only you can decide that, by looking, reading, thinking, writing, whatever it is you want to do with this. It is just here. Just like I am just here on the planet. It's just that other side of the same initial question I asked myself - with everything that's out there, how can I continue? With everything that's out there, how can I stop?</Andrew> <!--7/21/2005 04:09:00 PM-->
Thursday, July 07, 2005
<Andrew>
I am breaking my silence, to issue a brief political statement.
You don't have to be British, to be have been shocked, appalled, and disgusted, at the terrorist bombings which occurred in London this morning. I am British, of course, and I can say it has affected me deeply, and given me much pause for thought. I have stood on those very station platforms, and ridden on those trains and buses countless times, and can only imagine the horror that must have been felt by anyone who happened to have been in those places today. My heart goes out unreservedly to the hundreds who were injured, and the families of those who were killed.
How unfortunate it is that these atrocities will strengthen the resolve of those people, and of politicians in particular, who believe that the "war on terrorism", led by the U.S. and its allies, and with its associated military activities in Iraq, Afghanistan, and elsewhere, should continue unabated, and perhaps now even be escalated. I dare say it will even sway the opinions of many individuals, whose position was previously undecided, to being in support of this ongoing violence, despite it continually begetting further violence still.
The campaign to end this "war" has been particularly vociferous in Britain, ever since it was declared. In the wake of these terrible attacks however, it is more unlikely than ever that troops will be withdrawn, and bought home. To give such an order now, particularly for Tony Blair, and George W. Bush, would result in their losing face, lest it be seen as a weakening, a U-turn, a defeat.
The question I am asking myself at this moment is, would it worse for a handful of powerful politicians to lose face, or for more innocent people, many of whom do not support their views on this matter, to lose their lives?
In many U.S. media reports, it has been said that this is a sad day for the British, and to be British. On the contrary, I believe it is a fine day to be British. And finer still, to be British, and to say that I do not support this violence, both that which has been inflicted upon us, and that which is being waged by my government. It is not occurring in my name, and should not be imposed upon the peaceful, innocent people of this world.
Stop the "war". Start the dialogue. Mobilize people for an end to violence.
I hope all of the communities of London, and Britain as a whole, regardless of politics, religion, and ethnicity, will come together as one, to heal the wounds that all these senseless events have caused.
(On a lighter note, "regular" blog posting will resume on or around July 31st. Thanks.)</Andrew> <!--7/07/2005 05:17:00 PM-->
Monday, January 31, 2005
<Andrew>
Hunkered down, and eating a sandwich. Mmmm....that Islands Bakery bread is quite something, soft and moist, plus it keeps quite a long time too. Following that with a piece of my Dark Fruit Loaf that I made yesterday. Plump raisins nested in a dark, sugary wall of cake. I should definitely bake things more often. What with this, and the wonderful banana bread that B. has been making lately, I've been looking forward to my lunchbox far more than usual.
Tell you what-I'm so glad that there is an internet. I've always been a bit (alright, a lot) of an information junkie, but living somewhere like Olympia, it serves as a reminder that there's all sorts of things going on somewhere....even if it isn't here (and it definitely isn't here). Yes, it's easy to get sucked in, no matter where you are, and I must admit that sometimes I'm sat in front of the computer screen without much of a clue of what I'm doing there....not achieiving a lot, on the face of it at least. But even in the depths of apathy, it isn't a pursuit without merits. I'm sure even playing the To-fu tetris game (or, indeed, Tofuris, as the Devilrobots condense it), is actually teaching me something, even if the something is, "you've been playing this To-fu tetris game far too much lately, and you're not even getting any better at it"!
Make of things what you can....feeling those creative urges again, and urges to branch out, and dabble a little bit. See what happens.
On a related note, I've been looking into some of the most recent wave of online 'social networking' sites/concepts lately, most notably Flickr, and del.icio.us. I have to say that, in the past, I've been pretty lukewarm about some of the obviously clique-y examples of this trend, but here's two prime examples of how this technology can be of use and value to just about anybody, sharing and viewing the pictures (Flickr), or links (del.icio.us), of other individuals all around the world at large. It's so refreshing, given the "Look at how many friends I've got", or "Please date me.... please!" pigeon-holes that these can sometimes descend into. Instead, it's starting to snowball into things that are genuinely exciting, and that are entirely shaped by the individuals involved, making up the whole. Big up these here!
So what else been catching my eye lately? Well, hey....instead of telling it all right here, why not just click over to my del.icio.us page? Or my Flickr page, while you're at it. You got the hook-up, got the hook-up....</Andrew> <!--1/31/2005 01:29:00 PM-->
Friday, January 28, 2005
<Andrew>
That 2004 music round-up in full....quickly, before January is over:
BEST ALBUM 1) Mylo - Destroy Rock & Roll (Breastfed) 2) Benny Blanko - 8ft. In The Air (Playhouse) 3) 3 Chairs - 3Chairs (3 Chairs)
Honorable mentions: Kerrier District - Kerrier District (Rephlex) Franz Ferdinand - Franz Ferdinand (Domino) Spektrum - Enter The Spektrum (Playhouse)
BEST SINGLE 1) Spektrum - Kinda New (Playhouse) 2) WhoMadeWho - Happy Girl (Gomma) 3) Linus Loves - Bene & Angela (Breastfed)
Honorable mentions: Peter Grummich - Jackmonster (Spectral Sound) Wiley - Wot Do U Call It? (XL) Delia Gonzalez & Gavin Russom Rise (DFA Remix) (DFA)
BEST RE-ISSUE 1) DNA - DNA On DNA (No More) 2) Nightingales - Pigs On Purpose (Cherry Red) 3) The Homosexuals - Astral Glamour (Hyped 2 Death)
Honorable mentions: Mikey Dread - African Anthem Dubwise (Auralux) Virgin Prunes - A New Form Of Beauty (Mute) Lee Perry - Dub Triptych (Trojan)
BEST COMPILATION OR MIX 1) Kenny Dope presents 80's Roller Boogie (Kenny Dope) 2) Theo Parrish - Yellow Double Lines Parts 1 & 2 (Sound Signature) 3) Dimitri From Paris & Joey Negro present The Kings Of Disco (Rapster)
Honorable mentions: Cambodian Cassette Archives: Khmer Folk & Pop Music, Vol.1 (Sublime Frequencies) Channel Three (Output) DFA Compilation # 2 (DFA)
BEST LABEL IN 2004 1) Playhouse 2) Breastfed 3) DFA
Honorable mentions: Sublime Frequencies Warp Alga Marghen Output Die Schachtel
2005 is already looking very promising, some great new releases and re-issues coming up. But I must retreat back to my sore, stuffy nose for now. </Andrew> <!--1/28/2005 01:46:00 PM-->
Monday, January 24, 2005
<Andrew>
Just one more reason why everyone should eat more to-fu! All of Devilrobots designs and characters are just flat out fantastic....
I'm coming down with a cold, aching and sniffling accordingly. I shall type more when the joints in my fingers aren't hurting. Too much key pressure.</Andrew> <!--1/24/2005 09:51:00 PM-->
Wednesday, January 19, 2005
<Andrew>
The ice coated everything in its path in Portland this weekend. More photographic evidence to come....
Some early predictions for 2005: It will be a great year for those who have taken the time to gain a full appreciation of the handclap within music for dancing. But a rather less fruitful one for those in the militant wing of the Michael Jackson fan club.
The eerily prophetic photo in the preceding post was another from Portland at the end of November, by the way....and it serves as a signpost for 2005, in many ways.
B. has a been looking at a number of different blogs lately, and it seems as if all of these people are posting their thoughts on all of these disparate subjects, on a daily basis or better, and with renewed vigour now that the New Year has just passed. By way of contrast, it seems I'm just writing in here less and less, in spite of it all, and perhaps sometimes, in spite at it (when I'm in one of my mean-spirited moods. Grrrr.). We're always keen to be difficult-ah.
I have resolved to be in disrepute. Well, not exactly. I'm trying hard to take each day as it comes I suppose. For better circumstances, or worse. Life dictates that this is the best way for me to remain sane at this time. Getting through work each day has been feeling like a challenge lately, but once finished for the day, feels like something achieved, and out of the way. Similarly, life at home bounces from strength to strength. B., my loved one, moved in with between christmas and New Year, and despite panics beforehand about getting things shifted, then set-up and organized, it really hasn't gone badly at all. Plus, we're living together, and it's great so far, I don't know how it could be better. There's things to do, sure....but time to do it in, and somebody to do them with too.
So, today is today, and tomorrow something else. Which is nowhere near that romantic sense of being able to live each day as if it were my last. It would be a completely admirable thing to be doing, but it's some way beyond me at the moment, as it is for most people I shouldn't wonder. I've rarely happened across anyone who seems close even.
I did my rather loosely-bound "Best of 2004" radio show back on December 31st (and the playlist is posted too even), and at some point there will be an accompanying post with the full rundown of that, much as I did around this same time last year. It wasn't a bad year for music at all really, looking back. Also on the radio show front, I'm really pleased to say that the esteemed Asa Nelson will be my alternating host in the Friday night slot, on a temporary basis at least. I'm very happy about that, and no mistake.
After all kinds of speculation, Apple finally came out with their flash-memory based music player today, the iPod Shuffle. Why bother to mention such a thing? Well, aside from the fact that both B. and myself now want one, I have to admit to rather liking one of the driving concepts behind it, which is that of randomisation. You can fill it with a random selection of the music from your PC hard drive, then have it play it back to you in a random order. One of the slogans for the thing is even "Take a chance on chance". You feel John Cage would have loved the technology, and may have smiled at the idea, but I doubt he would have felt satisfied. Me neither. What we really need is a "Shredder" plug-in for iTunes....take that random selection of music, break it up into a random number of segments, each of a random length, then stick them all together in a random order, to form a continuous piece of new music. Someone, somewhere is probably working on such a thing right now. And if not, perhaps they ought to? </Andrew> <!--1/11/2005 08:56:00 PM-->
The days andhours are just galloping by towards christmas and the new year, and I just can't keep up. To the point where there hasn't even been any candy eaten from behind the doors of the advent calendar since about the 6th. At least I'm done with all of my gift shopping, mostly due to the fact that this was wholly conducted online this year. Not that this kind of shopping is entirely free from frustrations though, just different ones....
Still have a few cards to write and send out, for co-workers mostly, but all the overseas ones are well on their way now, hopefully spreading some cheer to the family, just as the arrival of their cards has done for me. Cards have taken on so much significance now, in the absence of actually being able to be around for special occasions. It's certainly one of the times of year that I miss them all, and being at home, the most. These would be good times, happy, and filled with treats. What all the year had seemed to build up to. Special programmes on the television, Stone's Ginger Wine in the glass, eating Roses and Quality Street (types of candy, for the uninitiated), until only the Coffee Cremes were left. Why did none of us like the Coffee Cremes? And why could we only tolerate the Strawberry and Orange ones once the rest of the good stuff had been polished off? I don't think I ever stopped to think that somebody, somewhere, must like those ones so much, they eat them first!
Close to home, it's been sad to witness something of an exodus from the airwaves of KAOS. After the loss of that man Asa earlier this year, another of the few DJ's there who I respect (so long, Michelle) has now departed. The phrase I keep hearing over and over, and we're all feeling it believe me, is that there's just not a lot of love around at the station right now. More than that, there's no sign of any place that some may spill out from in the foreseeable future either. Hannes, who I've alternated shows with in the Friday night slot for many years now, is moving away also. No idea what (or who) is going to happen with that yet. We shall see.
I've been reading a few articles, and other little snippets lately, with nods towards music and technology, and more to the point, between the hardware and software of today, versus what you could call technological primitives....older machines and formats, fully capable of doing the job. There's practitioners that seem to do all they can to fetishize the former, or the latter, and stand firm in their position of (sonic) pleasure. But the fact is, both have there place, then, now, and in the future. I grew up with the cassette recorder, and it's still just as amazing an invention. There's a manual you could wade through, but it's not essential, and no complicated settings or adjustments to make, unless you want to. The exact same statements could easily apply to a piece of software like, say, Audiomulch though. Instant gratification, which ever way you look at it.
Danny Krivit had an idea (although he was far from the only one). Making edits of 70's dancefloor tunes, by recording the originals from the vinyl onto a tape, then repeating the breaks, or the riffs, accentuating the parts that would make people move, and keep them moving. Listening to a song over and over, keeping what you feel, losing what you don't, but adding nothing new, nothing that wasn't already there in the first place. Which makes an edit a very different proposition from a remix, which (more so now than ever) could mean any number of things, including nothing of the original even being present! Yet this way of working is far from redundant....witness the boom in re-edits of dance tunes, old and new, made even easier to execute and disseminate through the onward march of digital technology. The meaning of the words, cut, copy, and paste, may have changed, and the labour involved diminished, but the end result is the same, and that same raw love for the music is still there, untarnished, beneath it all.
But....enough of such hypotheses. There's a stack of new CD's at home, but I've only had time to listen to a few of them so far. A real mixed bag too, which makes the prospects seem all the more exciting, for when I can finally tear into the lot of them. I shall drop a select few into this Friday's show too. Make the old Curious cocktail a little more potent, what? Drink up now, it's the Holidays after all.... </Andrew> <!--12/15/2004 11:36:00 AM-->
Saturday, December 04, 2004
<Andrew>
Doing laundry, posting playlists....on a funky trip. Listening to (in this order) Liquid Liquid still be a percussion force in 2004, Delia Gonzalez & Gavin Russom channeling Conrad Schnitzler and Jean-Michel Jarre through a transistor radio, Doctor Mix & The Remix peeling all the paint between here and Paris, and Bohannon conducting the Disco Philharmonic Orchestra.
Perhaps inspired by the return of that man Theo Parrish to the world of CDR mix-dom, I'm full of similar ideas myself again. It certainly helped that all who cared to comment on last nights radio show, gave it glowing reviews. I'm certainly more interested in the concept of compiling and blurring other peoples stuff anymore, than I am about banging my head against the brick wall of trying to create music of my own that I'm happy with. Not that I've worked on anything in either domain in months. C'est la vie.
Outside, it's a grey day, as far as the eye can see. Just as well, there's things to do around the house, and I need to get those christmas cards off to all of the family in the next few days....those international last posting times are looming large again. </Andrew> <!--12/04/2004 03:01:00 PM-->
Decided to take a day off of work today, to make up for a lack of sleep, and the feeling I need to let my brain soak for a while, without too many distractions. I have to do something that will move me forward with the things I want to do in life more quickly, and to better define what those things are, without the whole process unraveling yet again, and collapsing into a heap of apathy and procrastination. There's all these vague interests and goals in my head, but no plan of action, no list of tasks or projects. What is that I even want to do anymore? Or not do? Or give higher and lower priorities to? The more there is chaos, there are more questions that some part of me feels I need to answer. And the less I can sleep, or think straight.
Sometimes even saying what I want to say, in the way I want to say it, can seem to take forever. Self-expression can seem like such a fight sometimes, that I find myself constantly wondering if it's even worth it.
Going to have a bath and a shave now, to try and shake this off, then perhaps start to make some lists. "A journey of a thousand miles starts with a single step". All this time, and certain parts of me still feel so close to the beginning, slowly repeating a process I ought to have learned from by now. Setting myself up to fail, again and again, or never feeling fully satisfied with whatever ground it is that I've managed to cover.
All of which comes back to this piece of writing again, which I've quoted from in this blog previously...:
"I read recently that one African tribe attributes the creation of the world to god's failure to hold everything together in one piece. His grip wasn't strong enough, and it just whirled out his hand. Then, I read in "The Naked Ape", that such a tribe of primitives is itself a failure. It has failed to evolve technologically. Another example: the composer La Monte Young says that if his music does not transport you to heaven, he is failing. Everyone's failing; our entire experience is this side of perfection.
Failure exists relation to goals. Nature has no goals, and so can't fail. Humans have goals, and so they have to fail. Often the wonderful configurations produced by failure reveal the pettiness of the goals. Of course we have to go on striving for success, otherwise we could not genuinely fail. If Buster Keaton wasn't genuinely trying to put up his house, it wouldn't be funny when it falls down on him".
Cornelius Cardew (1936-1981) From the notes accompanying "The Great Learning", composed 1968-70. </Andrew> <!--11/30/2004 12:02:00 PM-->
Monday, November 29, 2004
<Andrew>
The secret code abounds in Portland. Powell's Books being no exception.
I found myself a copy of the latest issue (#10) of Waxpoetics there too, and I'm loving all that I've picked my way through so far. Magazines can be so exciting, and particularly when they're like this one....labours of love, steeped in the pure joy of shared knowledge, soul deep.
Yes, it was a wonderful thanksgiving weekend. Just one long celebration really. Having that whole 4-day stretch off was one thing. First time I've managed that since I started my job almost 7 years ago, and thankfully I was not bothered via the cellphone too much either. But that just provided the frame to hold a beautiful picture. A real work of art to treasure. It started with celebrating thanksgiving with B's family, eating, talking, eating some more, renewing my acquaintance with Tofurky, which was better than I remember it, actually.
Then, on Friday, we departed by train to spend B's birthday weekend in Portland, both of us keen to go back there after the fun we'd had on our last visit. The weather was dry and cold, alternating foggy and bright. Upon our arrival, we swam in the otherwise empty hotel pool, fought our way through the massed shoppers downtown, then retired for food, drinks, and atmosphere....ah, McMenamins. Powell's staying open until 11pm is almost a stroke of genius. To me, the late evening seems just the right time of day to explore the new ideas on all those pages. And you just can't beat walking around, or riding the streetcar, in a city that seems so relaxed and at ease with itself, day or night.
More browsing, eating, and drinking on Saturday. We did some shopping, but it was more like this incredibly fun learning experience, all the way. Watching people live their lives, noticing the small details of the buildings, the stickers, flyers and graffiti. Movements and gestures, all received, noted, appreciated. Plus, some good old street surrealism, whether it be for a lifestyle (a couple tag-team rapping on a street corner, pimping Adidas Originals outside their store, accompanied by a guy dancing in a shopping cart full of old televisions, spray-stenciled with the trefoil, and another posing as a would-be street hawker with an overcoat full of old skool sneakers....), or for a living (a three man rhythm machine, with sticks on an array of plastic buckets, pounding out an incessant succession of locked-groove variations that could be heard for blocks around), all completely captivating in their own, very different ways.
Sunday was B's actual birthday, and although we had celebrated with her family (and she had opened the presents and cards from myself, and our respective families) as part of the thanksgiving get-together, the celebrating was far from over. This was the real deal, after all. So....bring forth the feast that is Todai! And the birthday girl got to all-you-can-eat for free, even. After sampling as many of their delights as we comfortably could, some more of that walking about town was definitely in order! As the early Winter darkness fell, it seemed too bad that we had to head back to Olympia that evening, but you know....it's all reality, and reality at any given time is what you make it. But regardless of perception, some times will always be more special, and these were really good ones, for the two of us, together.
Memories are truly made of such things. Every moment, it felt so deeply significant to be alive, to be loving, and to be loved. Feelings that have always been present ever since we both met, but occasions, and a change of scenery, can make you so much more aware of them, free from the distractions of the everyday.
There's so many pathways that lead to the heart....when they can pierce the clutter and clatter of my own mind, and directly hit the target. </Andrew> <!--11/29/2004 09:54:00 PM-->
Wednesday, November 24, 2004
<Andrew>
Respect in effect to all at Arkitip, for sending me a big envelope stuffed with wonderous free goodies, in return for completing a survey regarding their excellent magazine....which one of these days, I must actually get around to subscribing to. A complete surprise of immense happy-fun making.
Receiving packages at my door, whether unexpected or impatiently awaited, still rules. And it always will. Art triumphs again! </Andrew> <!--11/24/2004 02:21:00 PM-->
Tuesday, November 23, 2004
<Andrew>
A christmas light is for life, not just for christmas....especially when they do such a good job of cheering the house up. And long exposures are so much fun, too.
Spent some of this evening wrapping birthday presents for B. I've always considered myself a good listener, and therefore a good present shopper, when it comes to gifts....the things that are wanted by the people in my life I care about enough to do such things for, are all too easily forgotten by them, more often than not. Yet they can be easily unearthed from my notes and memories, for the most pleasant surprises. I hope she will like them, and eagerly await another opportunity for us to celebrate. Not that we need any excuses....we're good like that.
I've been doing a woeful job of sleeping lately, though it's not something I've excelled at for quite some time. Going through something of a thorny patch with it though. I arrive at the pillow with a head full of jumbled thoughts, yearning to be processed to completion, a twitchy, agitated body, and eyes that need an adequate mental distraction before they will close, and then stay closed. Needless to say, it's been leaving me feeling rough during the day. As rough as my 8-days unshaven face, which in all truth has now passed the rough phase, and is now approaching soft, en route to Santa Claus/Homeless Dude. Yes, I should really try to get to that before bed tonight.
Thanksgiving approaches, here in the US of A. It's all a foreign concept to me, of course, but I certainly appreciate the sense of occasion, and togetherness, it implies. It's all the stuff people do in England at christmas pretty much, just without the gifts. Family gets together, consumes way too much food and drink, turkey (or vegetarian substitute) for dinner, left-over turkey/fake turkey sandwiches/soup/stew/curry for dinner for several weeks afterwards.
Ordered some records and CD's last night, more than I bargained for in fact, and I feel perfectly good about it. Seems like the sound situation is improving, or at least my take on it is....but perhaps both. Life is growing in excitement again, in so many ways, and on so many fronts. And it's not just that it's a three day work-week either, but there's nothing wrong with that, and I'm certainly going to enjoy it! </Andrew> <!--11/23/2004 10:35:00 PM-->
Thursday, November 11, 2004
<Andrew>
Well, I'm still out here, wandering around. Still wondering exactly why that is, some of the time at least. Feeling kind of numb and withdrawn today, wanting to be immune from the grey inside, and outside. I feel more of an affinity with the red and yellow leaves, slowly turning brown on the ground.
Still stuck in something of a musical rut. Only a few things I'm hearing are really peaking my ears, and my interest. And I've been feeling even less like actually making any sounds of my own, perhaps as a result of this, but I really need to begin taking a little more of a "don't care" attitude toward creativity. A whole lot of something will always be better than a carefully considered nothing. The worst of it is, I've known that all along.
Here's a couple of pieces of suggested listening though:
Benny Blanko-8 Feet In The Air (Playhouse) Just a wonderful feel-good record, skipping down the road from the dancehall to the duvet. And Playhouse are really on a roll.
Virgin Prunes-A New Form Of Beauty (Mute) Reissue of material from their concept/project from 1981. Considering the cross-pollenation of styles so evident in the music of right now, this must make more sense in 2004 than it did back then, which says a lot for the weight it carries. They were always one of those bands whose name I heard, but never actually got to hear either, which made this final liason all the more pleasurable. Uneasy listening, but always departing with a friendly smile.
My promotion at work has finally gone through, but I'm feeling somewhat awkward about the whole situation. On the one hand, it's obviously very nice to be well thought of, but on the other, there's my sense of hostility and fear toward what feels like an ever-growing unknown. Moving closer to the edge of panic.
This entire post shouldn't be strangled by pessimism though, just becasue there's isolated pockets of it out there that are refusing to clear themselves away. Those leaves I mentioned earlier demark the boundaries of hope and despair. They're a silver lining, turning rusty before my eyes.
Went down to Portland with B. a few weeks ago, for a weekend away, and enjoyed it so much that we already have another planned. I hadn't been for about 18 months prior to that, and it's a place I always look forward to coming back to. It makes me happy that certain parts of it are quite familiar to me now. It's definitely a place I would like to live, were I not where I am. Being able to drink great beer and coffee, eat great food, take great walks, browse great stores, ride great public transport....and then throw in a relaxed atmosphere, and a change of scenery that actually makes you want to look at all of it. For me, that adds up to a magic combination. We had a wonderful time together, searching and discovering. It really felt that exciting to be there with her.
At home, I'm just glad we're both around to support one another. We both need that. If either of us didn't have the other right now, I think we'd both be a lot worse off in (our perception of) the world. Taking each day as it comes, sharing the love, the laughter, the problems. Working away the worry lines, until we're calm again. Moggy's higher sense of cat-energy holds everything together, from the soft, bushy fuzz of his underfur. Grey pride in effect.
I think just about everyone will need an element of that support to get through this coming Winter. It's everywhere, not just in the media, but in the streets, in the tone of voice of any random person you speak to. Uncertainty has become an omnipresence within society.
I still need to get the Playlist from my last show posted....I'll get around to it. I'm going to be starting a picture/image blog as well, and trying to update it with old and new things, fairly regularly. As ever, we'll see how it goes. </Andrew> <!--11/11/2004 11:19:00 AM-->
Wednesday, November 03, 2004
<Andrew>
I will get around to writing some more things about my life one of these days, but for a moment, I digress....:
My preference would have been for a U.S. President that could spell terrorism, rather than "fight" it. You would have thought the American public would have been intelligent enough to consider that too. Oh well.
You may well have seen my dedication to John Peel on the home page of the site. I still can't quite believe he has passed away. I've thought of so many things I could say about it since the news first reached me, but the words I chose just about sum everything up....Maximum respect, always. I would not have even had the thought of playing music and talking on the radio, were it not for the man, and his enthusiasm for the music, and his craft. </Andrew> <!--11/03/2004 10:26:00 PM-->
Thursday, September 30, 2004
<Andrew>
As a slight diversion of late, I've been dipping the toes of my mind back in to the worlds of art and design. Not that I ever really left them behind. They're just some of the many pots of thoughts and ideas I try to keep warm on the burners of my brain, and perhaps I felt they had gone a little off the boil lately. Or something. I love contemporary artists who (like myself) are slightly deranged as a result of existing within this current worldwide climate, that simply cannot help but damage you in some way or other. But only the honest will admit to it, and let it bleed through openly into what they do, and how they do it. Such things are not without beauty either, whether it be heartfelt, sarcastic, or both (and why not?). It's nice to know that the culture of global information overload can still result in individual snapshots, images, and sounds, worthy of attention and appreciation in a warm, considered sense. It's a subject I've been giving a lot of thought to, for a while, elsewhere in this blog even....about the value of one specific piece of something, in the face of millions upon millions of others. It's all still in the senses of the beholder though. A thought, a smile, a lead to follow, to search and learn. A need to understand, and to be understood, on some level or other, whichever one you care to choose.
So much I could cross-reference, among the rushes and the rubble. I feel I have to mention Supermundane for now at least though. I just discovered the site today, and thoroughly enjoyed it. More to come though.... </Andrew> <!--9/30/2004 10:47:00 PM-->
Saturday, September 25, 2004
<Andrew>
Here is the picture I was talking about, I would roughly guess it's circa 1981. Printed small and grainy, and it scanned similarly. Such was harsh early-1980's reality.
Elsewhere, the Playlist for the radio show from earlier this very night, is posted right here.
And I don't know why, on this day, at this time....but I am convinced I may have met my soulmate in Miss B. It's not always obvious, but there's so many reasons why, and probably a whole slew of others I don't even know about yet, and most likely, neither does she. Sharing naps, sharing food, sharing love, air, and space. Everything just feels right.
Even Moggy agrees, and he's a cat....and us only mere humans!
</Andrew> <!--9/25/2004 01:41:00 AM-->
Thursday, September 23, 2004
<Andrew>
As if I wasn't feeling my age enough already, today I find out that Ceefax, the BBC's teletext service, is celebrating 30 years in service. What's teletext, you ask? Well....there's a wealth of information to be had at this site. It was a technological advance that somehow largely escaped the U.S., despite having gained a sporadic foothold in other parts of the world.
It seems scarcely believable that this piece of blockily-rendered wizardry could have been around for so long. As a concept that hit full stride in the early to mid-1980's, it basked in the glow of the golden years of 8-bit computing, and to someone of my age, felt exciting (and still does, to a certain extent), and definitely caught my attention.
Not that we had a teletext-enabled TV in our house back then (I think we got one about 1988 or something), such things were only within the realm of the wealthy, for the first few years at any rate....much as video recorders were at about the same time. In the corner of our living room was a woodgrain-effect Ferguson, about 22 inches across, with round buttons to change the channels, that made a satisfying "ker-clunk" sound when pushed. Like many others from my generation, I cut my appreciative teeth on "Pages From Ceefax", where selected pages from the service would be broadcast during gaps in the BBC1/BBC2 schedules, in the absence of actual programming. Changing pages at about the rate of once per minute, giving you enough time to read whatever text (or graphics) it may have had to offer, accompanied at all times by some lively library music, which is how I also cultivated my love for such audio-backcloth. It was certainly much more interesting than watching a static Testcard, which would previously have occupied this screen time.These, after all, were the days when television began at about 9.25am, had patchy areas of content right through until teatime (about 4.00pm), then went to bed a little before Midnight (or a little after on the weekends). When TV-land was all mechanical, and magical. And strangely prone to breakdowns, and interruptions, whether caused by them (in which case some apologetic caption would appear), or by us (because we needed to put another 50p in the electric meter).
I have a photograph from around this era that I should really dig out and post to accompany all this, of me, off sick from school, sat watching the box, with our old dog Annie laying next to me. That TV we had certainly matched the orangey-brown sofa and chairs we had at the time.
It would have been nice if the BBC could have made more of an occasion out of this anniversary. What about commissioning artists to create works using those wonderfully chunky graphics, that could then be displayed on Ceefax, then migrated for viewing on the web? Now, that would have been something....
The thing with teletext though, is it's still hugely popular in 2004, despite the internet, and everything that has come with it. And long may it continue to be. </Andrew> <!--9/23/2004 01:24:00 PM-->
Wednesday, September 22, 2004
<Andrew>
Finally posted that last Playlist yesterday evening, it's available for viewing right over here.
Speaking of the need for inspiring things, as I was a little earlier, there's a cracklingly funny interview with Derek Bailey in the September issue of The Wire, which is well worth the read. He seems to respond to the questioning in a similar manner to how he plays the guitar. Plus, there's a whole new book about him too, and his role in the pursuit and application of free improvisation. I think I shall have to find myself a copy of that.
I really should pull out something of his to play on the show this Friday. Perhaps more than one something even. I have a feeling that will get the telephones ringing.... </Andrew> <!--9/22/2004 11:54:00 AM-->
Monday, September 20, 2004
<Andrew>
Every fresh start seems to falter. I know I should try and post to this thing at least once a week, you know. For my own benefit, let alone that of anyone (anyone?) reading any of this. Otherwise, what is the point of having it? I'm late with posting the Playlist from my last radio show even, but that's partially because I'm still trying to block out the memory of it, fearing it will have some effect on how things turn out on Friday. I will get to it in the next day or two though....
I seem to be set further and further adrift of my personal "goals", or at very least of where I'd like to be with them. Problem is, I'm not even sure where that is exactly, or what they are sometimes. Writing, sound, artistry....any of the creative outlets, basically. I try to squeeze some thought time in for these things, but my head always seems too cluttered with other stuff to even tap away at the keyboard. Where is my head lately? I haven't been listening to much music recently, seeming to be in something of a malaise in that department. I did buy a few 12" singles last week though, which peaked at least a little interest (Husky Rescue, Annie, Linus Loves, Kim Peers, and SFB's remixed take on Siouxsie & The Banshees' "Happy House", which seems to have always been fully ripe for such a thing....). I think I need to put together a few more mix-CD's perhaps. It just may find me a way out of that particular maze. Sometimes there's pure gold just waiting to be mined out of hidden connections, and pure coincidence.
Work has me rushed off my feet, and pulls my head along with them. I've just accepted a promotion, which may potentially be a good thing for me in some ways, and perhaps equally as bad in others. I figured I'd at least jump in, and see if I could swim. The worst I can end up is a boat anchor. I've been far too bound up in it lately though, which goes some way towards explaining the words above, and the lack of words below.
For solitude, there's quieter moments with B. to be thankful for. Sometimes I'm not thankful enough for them though, always thinking that I should really be doing something, anything, when perhaps the pause for thought, and for thoughts to be themselves, is really what's necessary among all this mess of mine. We prop each other up, and prod each other along, through our ills, chills, apathy, and lethargy. We go up, we go down....riding on the elevators of the Autumn fast approaching. We're getting there. And eventually, we'll get there.
I've been feeling pretty homesick lately too. Feeling disaffected from the culture, out of touch, and way out of touching distance. I don't how people managed before the internet. Listening to BBC Radio over the web helps keep me sane....I'm sure of it.
My Mum turned 60 last week, and retired from work the week before. Both of these events seem like landmarks to me, of the passing of time, and the progress of life. Take your eye off the clock, and the hands just whizz around.
I need more literature, sounds, stories, images....that mean something real, inspire me, and give me something to think about for a fleeting moment. If it means something, write it down in my notebook. Let's take the train down to Portland soon, too.
Clutching at geography. Turn the maps into music scores. </Andrew> <!--9/20/2004 06:01:00 PM-->
Saturday, September 11, 2004
<Andrew>
Forgot to mention a few things:
Firstly, I'd really like to be listening to DNA or the Pop Group, exceptionally loudly at the moment. Fire Engines would be great too, just because they're always great. Or the live version of "And Then Again", by A Certain Ratio. Why has that yet to make it to any of the ACR CD re-issues, ever?
Secondly, I've yet to tire of this somewhat grainy footage of 50 Cent being booed and bottled off stage at the Reading Festival a few weeks ago. Truly, there's nothing much more cruel than a crowd of British people. Dare I say that Fiddy had it coming?
Thirdly, the lack (continued?) of justice in the results from this weeks World Cup 2006 Qualifying results. Kazakhstan beaten (1-2) in stoppage time by Ukraine? Turkmenistan losing 0-1 at home to Saudi Arabia? The US of A scoring a last minute goal to draw 1-1 with Panama? And, surely the most cruel of all, poor old Luxembourg going down 3-4 to Latvia, giving up an own-goal and a penalty along the way? At least England won....eventually. </Andrew> <!--9/11/2004 01:36:00 AM-->
<Andrew>
I guess it's been 2 weeks since I've written anything, and it may as well have been 2 weeks more. I'm losing the plot, or it's lost me. Makes me feel more like giving up than I have done for ages. Walking back from a complete disaster of a radio show, one freshly ruined CD in my bag (thanks to one of the stations elderly, yet vicious CD players), pouring down with rain, not that the trees couldn't use it, soaked every item of clothing I had on, straight through my coat, and out the other side. Waterlogged my vinyl too, the sleeves are currently drying out in....a mail crate. There is no justice. It evaporated, every last fucking drop of it.
I'm tired. Tired, large-stomached, and old. Older than I've ever been at any rate, and it shows. Where was I? Oh yes, tired. Tired (right now, specifically) of a radio station that can't be bothered to support its programmers (if it wasn't for the listeners, I'd have bailed ages ago). Tired of friends who don't e-mail me back. Perhaps my stock has plummeted on the good old Olympia trading floor? Tired of feeling like someone has parked a car on my chest, and is reaching down my throat trying to stop my heart with their bare hands. Tired of the Olympia "scene", of even the thought of the existence of it. Back to the social stockmarket again. Tired even of being so....tired.
So the post is one long complaint? Not really. This is actually how I'm feeling right now. There's plenty of good things about life, but today, here, now, they were outweighed, outnumbered, and out to get me.
Such was September 10th. Now it's September 11th. My 6-month anniversary with Miss B....and how it seems like years. Another day, another reality? Let's hope so.
Life is just a slot machine, let's face it. Politics, religion, the existence of life on this planet, all of the big questions you could ever wish to pose....they only translate as a cherry, a lemon, a bell, and orange. Put in a coin, and push the button. The reels spin around. Fancy a gamble? No? Well, tough luck, you're already playing. </Andrew> <!--9/11/2004 01:31:00 AM-->
Sunday, August 29, 2004
<Andrew>
Just in case you missed it, I'm starting to add the playlists from the radio show to the site again, and the first one (from this past Friday) is available for viewing right here.
I made it through the 9 days of work reasonably intact, and have made it through the subsequent 5 days off now also, worse luck. You can never have enough days off....it's nice to at least be able to reflect upon that. </Andrew> <!--8/29/2004 10:22:00 PM-->
Monday, August 16, 2004
<Andrew>
The world seems a more sane place, after a weekend of rest, and a renewed acquaintance with muscle relaxants. Science is indeed a wonderful thing. But now I have to face the prospect of 9 days of work in a row, and most of them 12-hour days at that....feels like I'm entering a long, dark tunnel. And surrounded by all of this equipment, it even sounds like it too. The more I may dwell on this though, the worse I fear it will seem. So, moving swiftly along....
Another Friday, brought another radio show. More complimentary phone calls even, despite a rather more eclectic mix of sounds than I've played of late. Ah well, all of the tunes were pretty bouncy and fun at any rate, except for the bouncy and grim ones, that is. All of which reminds me, I need to (and will) start posting my playlists again. As I became so delinquent at posting them a while back, I took down the 'Playlists' section of the site, so as to avoid frustration from all sides. But, this will become active again soon, as will a new "music" blog/journal, where I intend to post reviews and opinions solely on that particular topic. Which is not to say that such things won't continue to bleed through into this forum also, because they probably will.
For instance, have you noticed that the "Disco Summer" I predicted earlier this year is continuing to gather pace? You haven't? Spektrum are pushing it with their Single Of The Year candidate, "Kinda New" (and album, "Enter The Spektrum"). But if you like a little punk with your funk, you may find the "Happy Girl" 12" from WhoMadeWho, a suitable choice of sunshine anthem. Just want to demolish the place entirely? The new Peter Grummich single on Spectral Sound will do the job so nicely, that it'll even clean up the mess afterwards. And the cherry to top off all this ice cream? Bohannon-"The Collection". 80 minutes of incessant grooves at a budget price, from the man who strutted his stuff into the driving seat after James Brown bailed out, as Funk segued into Disco.
This weekend also saw me try to buy myself some new glasses. In America, for some reason, being visually impaired is something of a (blurry) minefield. One of the things that the British National Health Service does very well (for a change), is look after the eyes of their citizens, fairly, quickly, and at a reasonable price. Don't get me wrong, providing you have health insurance, the eye test part of the equation over here is reasonably painless....make an appointment, turn up, get a prescription. Then comes the hard part, finding a frame that looks good, bracing yourself for the cost of it, and crossing your fingers that the miserly insurance gannets will cough up a few bucks toward it. Browsing the optical stores with B. on Saturday was a pleasant enough experience (except for one place, which chose to go with the "we'll just keep harrasing you constantly until you buy something or leave" strategy, that doesn't wash well with either of us!), and trying on different frames with both of us then seeing how they looked, was even, dare I say it, rather fun. You have to live with these things attached to your face for the better part of each day, so finding something right is pretty important, more so than I've even thought in the past. But once the conversation turned to money....we watched the proverbial shark fins instantly appear from the backs of the previously mild-mannered shop assistants. Seeing our quest descend into high-pressure numbers hell, we both decided we'd had enough of how much each tiny money-grabbing extra feature cost, at this much discount, for this style of lens, blah-de-blah-blah-blah....and decided to take time to....think about it some more. And so it shall be, until we can dare to set foot in such territory again. I can still see in the mean time, so it's not all bad.
And our Gregory Moggy is now venturing out into the wide world all by himself, seemingly enjoying every minute of it too, then promptly sleeping it off during the day. He's turning into quite the companion, just as every good kitty (grey, or otherwise) should. But he is grey....All grey, all of the time.
Electronic relief exists, as always. Currently, courtesy of grazing for chewy, snack-size tidbits of information at BoingBoing, or reliving the glory days of the Sinclair ZX Spectrum in painstaking detail, at World Of Spectrum (and games of Match Day, via a Java-based emulator, in particular). </Andrew> <!--8/16/2004 03:27:00 PM-->
Wednesday, August 11, 2004
<Andrew>
And this picture ought to illustrate exactly why this does what it does. I grew up by the sea....so it means something. </Andrew> <!--8/11/2004 10:57:00 PM-->
<Andrew>
My mind appears to often be on the verge of crumbling lately. The capacity and functioning of my brain just seem diminshed. Can't even seem to type or parse sentences correctly either, but we'll give it a try.
I blame the unseasonable heat, which just doesn't seem to end, but really needs to, and soon, plus the shortage of staff at work (leading to a comparable lengthening of my work week).
All that I need to write is inside my head, somewhere, lost in a turgid stew of headaches, and building pressure. When the steam clears, perhaps I'll be able to find an opening, and it'll all come rushing out....who knows? Creativity is taking no steps forward.
The only respite has come in the form of trips to the ocean with B., staying in Tom and Diana's old Airstream trailer. A short walk from the sand and the waves, and a sea breeze to cool the air, and the mind. And all that love could want to share. </Andrew> <!--8/11/2004 10:30:00 PM-->
Tuesday, August 03, 2004
<Andrew>
Something else that happened in July, was that myself & B. finally adopted a cat. Miaow! His name is Gregory Mog Austin, but his friends get to call him Moggy. He is a Russian Blue, and (as this picture demonstrates) is a natural with the football, more so even than his English cat-father. </Andrew> <!--8/03/2004 07:06:00 PM-->
<Andrew>
{I originally wrote this segment on July 21st, to try and put some flesh on these bare blog-bones. So, here this is for now, and more will follow along subsequently, and dare I say it, eventually....}
Well, I've been wanting to write here for a while, and probably have no shortage of things to write about even, but when I've had the time I haven't had the inclination, and vice versa. As it is, I shall just be working on this in fits and starts, tapping away in a text editor, then pasting it up whenever I run out of time, or run out of energy. There's a creeping sense of a lack of both about to overwhelm me I fear. What ever can I do to improve such things?
Where should I start....perhaps from where I left off? So I went to New York City, for the Fifth HOPE conference, as organized by 2600 Magazine. There is a lot I'd like to write about this, about the whole trip in fact, but I'll sort-of summarize it for now. I did take some hastily scribbled notes during a lot of the talks and sessions, which I haven't even been able to refer back to yet (and I'm hoping I'll be able to read them), but will assist in shedding more light and detail on the proceedings at some point in the future. The Hotel Pennsylvania was almost bursting at the seams for the duration, a testament to how much of an appeal the hacker (in any sense of the word) mindset can have for people in today's social, political, and technological climate, and the depth of feeling of those individuals who care about pursuing such an outlook on life. Content-wise, it was hit and miss, just as any event structured along similar lines would be. Different speakers had different ideas of how to prepare and present their content, and these changes of pace and focus prevented things from becoming too predictable or stale, although some played closer to my idea of "engaging" than others. Mostly the sessions were refreshingly non-technical, and largely free from any associated over-use of hipster/geek jargon, or dry statistical data, and offered good introductions (rather than thorough investigations) to their chosen concepts, for further exploration in your own mind, and your own time and space. The event as a whole, certainly met its remit as a gathering of people, sharing information on a broad variety of subjects, with the same basic approach to thinking about them at its very core. The overall mood was positive also, flying in the face of the corporate and governmental gloom that were often the topics of discussion. It was a success. The only small thing that detracted from it in any way at all, was the social dynamic. No, I didn't go there expecting to be welcomed with open arms, to be embraced by the entire community, and for us all to feel as one. But a lot of people traveled in groups, who knew other groups, who were friends with others, within their certain niche. A times, the speakers felt too remote from their audiences, which only compounded this situation. It was to all too easy to feel like a face in the crowd, rather than a part of the crowd. That minor point aside, I have no regrets whatsoever about going, and would attend the next one in a heartbeat. Massive respect to everyone involved in making it happen (attendees included), anyone who stopped to chat, or criticized those annoying TV's in the (ram-packed) elevators.
I didn't get to explore the city itself too much, and when I did, I stuck to my feet as the mode of transportation. It was fun to walk around though, and I took quite a few pictures. Perhaps one of these days, I'll figure out how to incorporate some of them into this barren desert of text. {Hey, what do you know....in the meantime, I actually did it!} In short, it was hot, humid, and parts of it didn't smell too good. The pace, and the logic, felt like London....as a result, I was a lot more comfortable there than I thought I would be. Walked down to Greenwich Village (on B's advice) late on Saturday evening, into Sunday morning. People everywhere, moving, living. It's a reassuring thing to see sometimes. Made me miss being so close to the big city life, although it reinforced my feelings as to not want to actually live in one for any length of time. It'd wear me out in no time.
So there's been a lot going on lately....trips here and there, including New York City. I will actually write something soon, but here is one of many token Times Square pictures to be going on with. </Andrew> <!--8/01/2004 08:56:00 PM-->
Monday, July 05, 2004
<Andrew>
Weekend. It began with kisses and fortune cookies, continued through naps, chores, music, movies, and shopping, and ended with fireworks. Conventional wisdom speaks of how life is structured around landmark events, that these are what will count as significant when we look back and recount our memories. There's certainly truth in that, but what of the everyday? Simple hours, days, weekends, of living and loving, thoughts and ideas, building and growing.
We walked the streets. They felt as though they were paved with jewels, the bright colours from the sun leading the way. The flowers seemed more vibrant, bursting with life, everywhere we cast our gaze. The wine tasted sweeter. The tater tots more crisp. Listened to Durutti Column, and Papa M, perfect sounds for Summer evenings such as these. There was Breyers ice cream, $2 bags of yesterdays treats from the bakery, the best I'd ever had. "Calendar Girls" on DVD, then "Red Firecracker, Green Firecracker" on video. The grass-roots triumph of the former, perfectly offset by the grand, romantic tragedy in the latter. Dinner at the Mini, breakfast at the Clubside. Such warm feelings inside make for hunger. Waiting for buses was never such fun as it was, as it always is, with her. I don't think I've ever had a weekend that seemed as perfect as this. But I remember thinking that after our last weekend together. And the one before that, too.
Gave away some of the mix CD's on Friday's show, and some others to friends. All gone now, except for one more, and my own. B doesn't really like all of the musical content, and I don't blame her. After all, this was the sound of how my world felt without her....anxious, agitated, empty spaces for darkness and uncertainty to creep in. It's a circular journey through music, that finishes where it starts, from the moment she left, to the one where she returned to me. Each track partially explains the last, and is partially informed by it. The history of all art is relative, its past and future strung together by numbers and gestures. Navigating it is like crossing the street.....keep an open mind, and look in both directions.
All of my life, I dreamed of a best friend, a lover, a co-conspirator, an equal. Someone to share my life with. There's been false-starts and failures along the way, all of which were worth it, just because they led me to where I am today....able to know and appreciate that I have found the someone of all of those dreams, from those I had as a small boy, to the one I had last night. I look into her eyes, touch her soft skin, and know I want to be with her for always. Hoping our love is the something that will never rust.... </Andrew> <!--7/05/2004 09:41:00 AM-->
Friday, June 25, 2004
<Andrew>
There's that song, isn't there? The one about there not being any sunshine when she's gone? All I can think about is how I much I miss her. Counting down the days from my part of the world, but knowing that those beaches, the ones she's told me so many stories about, will soothe her soul a little. I hope so.
Yes. I remember being on my own, through all of the various times. Boils down to a formula, roughly thus....: Loud music, cheapo alcoholic beverages, spending most of my time in about 2 or 3 rooms only. On the stereo, Althea & Donna are "Uptown Top Ranking". In front of the computer, it's a different story. Uptown, unshaven and straggly, more like. Strictly Rockers I-ah.
I've been feeling desperately lethargic these past few days. Lounging about the house, overly warm, and exhausted for no good reason. There seems little point in doing anything while B's gone, just like there felt little point almost all of the time before she came along. She's been calling me from out there in the Pacific, and telling me much the same thing. Just as well we'd already previously agreed that spending times like these, away from each other, was not an option for our future. I wish I was there with you now, watching the waves turn, the sun set. You take me to your ocean, and I'll take you to mine. We'll get there. I'll go anywhere.
Mind you, I can talk. In a few weeks, I'm off again, albeit for only a few days, to a conference in New York City. Expect some sort of dial-a-blog update activity during that time (if it works). It'll be my first time in NYC too, and I have no idea of what to expect, but feel it may be best to ignore the image of it that movies have drummed into me my whole life. Why have so many directors made it seem like a cesspool with apartment buildings? The lyric from Culturcide's riff on Huey Lewis springs to mind, "New York, New York, is a big garbage pile of civilization/Where else is the fact that people live like cockroaches, cause for celebration?".
Speaking of New York, I've been listening to the new CD issue of the almost-complete works of No Wave miscreants DNA quite a lot this week. It's so refreshing to know that the pursuit of the sound of the end of music is still alive and well, and that people are not content to have the historical representations of such gather dust, even on coarse grained shelves, bristling with splinters. Such negativity can be inspiring.
Inspiring me, perhaps, to put together another mix-CD, along similar themes as I've been exploring this week. Stasis, short bursts of energy. My heart laid low at zero degrees east, behind jagged lines. Maybe it's time for some more of that reduced-down-to-$3.99-for-a-giant-bottle-at-Fred-Meyer Zinfandel. And some episodes of "The Sweeney" off DVD. Nobody, but nobody, could say "You bastard", like John Thaw and Dennis Waterman in 1976. And no-one has done it better since. </Andrew> <!--6/25/2004 09:59:00 PM-->
Monday, June 21, 2004
<Andrew>
Being alone is no fun at the best of times. Especially if you happen to be me. I suppose I'm just not used to it anymore, not now.....
So, there's silence. I don't even feel like putting any music on, to be honest. And no matter how many windows I seem to be opening, there's no hint of a breeze blowing into the house, from any direction. Even though I hear it rustling the leaves on the trees right outside. Everything else is just staying still.
Except for her, my love. She is at the airport, and away to Oahu tomorrow morning. It's only for 8 days, but now I know how long each of those 16 days must have felt while I was over in England. It's so much easier to be the one who is away, taking a break from all that can become routine, or part of your everyday. We've just become a part of each others days, that we can't seem to do without.
I can dust off that old saying though....absence makes the heart grow fonder. So I can't wait for her to be back in my arms, already, even though it's only been hours at this point.
Last night, we ate take-out from Mini Saigon on paper plates by the lake, then walked around its circumference, watching night fall slowly on the longest day of the year. An orange glow, slowly disappearing against a creeping backdrop of indigo. Flies swarmed around the lamp posts, where clever spiders had in turn built enterprising webs to ensnare at least a small percentage. Tiny ducklings taking a moonlight dip, under the watchful eye of their Mother. She fell asleep as the television flickered, then woke up to apologize, before drifting off once more. Stroked her hair, touched her hands. Kissed her and whispered my thoughts.
Tonight, there's dishes. I'll do them, just some other time. Tomorrow is calling, only minutes away. Where does the time go? I'm not sure I even want to know! I'll only try to stuff more of it into whatever space is available. </Andrew> <!--6/21/2004 11:31:00 PM-->
Monday, June 14, 2004
<Andrew>
"Reagan's president-elect, fascist god in motion...." Heaven 17.
(Good call on that, in retrospect, by the way. I always used to think that Americans would never understand what it was like to live under Margaret Thatcher's early-80's scorched earth policies. But, in their own way, they got a pretty good taste of the flavour, via her partner-in-crime. You live and learn.)
The economy of ideas is so much more interesting than the ideas of economy. But both have their uses, to be fair.
Something strange happened to my glasses on Friday evening. I laid down for an early evening nap with my loved one, and put them back on afterwards and....things just weren't right. I took them off again, just to make sure it wasn't me, but it wasn't, not this time at least. So, after inhaling the customary delights offered by Mini Saigon (Olympia's most vital food, in an atmosphere you actually feel you belong in, and are comfortable with), it was off to one of the spectacle emporia in the mall, to try and tame the unruly, dual-lensed beast. Improvements were made, this much is true, but I still feel decidedly off-balance, keep pressing wrong keys on the various keyboards in my life, and bumping into the odd stationary object. Spatial perception....Ah, you don't miss it until it is gone.
I've been having an awful lot of ideas in the goldfish bowl-like haze of magnification and refraction though. All this despite concentration being rather difficult.
Saw one of my favourite (perhaps THE favourite) movies for the first time in a while yesterday. Wong Kar-Wai's "Chungking Express". It hasn't lost any of it's (romantic) edge in the intervening years. And it was the first time I'd ever seen it with someone else, let alone the someone else I care about more than any other person, ever, in my entire life. I have subsequently decided that this is a movie that deserves....nay, cries out to be seen with someone else. Perhaps someone you're in love with. Or would like to be, even.
David Shrigley has some more books out. And even a freshly-minted website documenting his life's work. Careful now. Such honesty is addictive.
Tom was looking at some story or other at some news-porn sore at work the other day. I happened upon some headline in the list that read something like, "Alcohol abuse increasing, but number of alcoholics down". Wow....there's the answer! So if you don't want to admit you have a problem, then nothing's really wrong? Nothing at all? Can we apply this to all areas of life? Please....?
No. It doesn't work. I'm still seeing things funny. I did just have one of the best weekends of my entire life though. On the face of it, little happened, but below the surface....
Minute by minute, I am realising that life was supposed to be this way. Completely out of my control. We were always supposed to be together, and in exactly the way we are, right now.
Each day is a new one. Get through today, and your reward and/or penalty is another one tomorrow.
Oh, and I signed up for Audioblogger today. Which may, or may not, be a good thing....Regardless, I'm off to listen to "New Rose" by the Damned (at a suitable volume) now. Why? Just because.
"I got a new rose, I got it good. Guess I knew that I always would....". </Andrew> <!--6/14/2004 05:51:00 PM-->
Wednesday, June 09, 2004
<Andrew>
Ask too many questions of love, and it will begin to question you, and those that you feel for. It's the oldest confidence trick in the book, fooling yourself that the world is collapsing around us, when actually it would flourish, would we just let it. Which is not to say that everything's roses. But there are some beautiful flowers, which are always in full bloom, never mind the dark clouds and the rain.
We who worry, worry. About being worried even, or others seeing that we're worried, sensing that those particular cogs are slowly turning in our mind, grinding the light in our lives to dust. Passion staves off the feelings that would make the wheels move even faster. Love stands poised, finger hovering over the switch. One move, one word, could make them stop, or spin out of control.
All of which makes life seem so dramatic, but we've all been there. Fear, uncertainty, and doubt. And all in pursuit of the heart of someone I'm neither afraid, or unsure of.
Numbers are everywhere in my life. I've always felt safety in numbers. Only certain ones though. Lene Lovich said it best. "I want to stay with you....my lucky number's two".
All of which makes me want to watch Peter Greenaway's "Drowning By Numbers" again. </Andrew> <!--6/09/2004 10:07:00 AM-->
Monday, May 31, 2004
<Andrew>
"It's so much better on holiday...." Franz Ferdinand.
They're not wrong, but it's a double-edged sword. The working class dandy sits in one of his dusty corners, eating heavily-discounted smoked salmon off of a fork, frozen "creme brulee style dessert" off of a teaspoon, crunching surely the finest corn chips in the South Sound, from Shelton's very own Tortillera Jalisco. Contemplating nothing much in particular, other than how not-very-good he is at most of the things he'd like to commence, or attempt, and even most of the things he couldn't care less about either. This is my first 3rd day of a 3-day weekend in about 6 years. The recent (and very smart) Japanese reissue of the first New Age Steppers album stabs and scratches it's way out of the speakers, from deep down its' bleak, long, early '80's train tunnel. An all-star dark star if ever there was one. And all of this while wearing mismatched pyjamas, at a point well into the afternoon.
The Bardot/Bonnie to my Gainsbourg/Clyde builds furniture, washes her clothes, cuts pale pink roses from the garden that match both her lips and her attire. Brightens rooms just by walking into them. It's all as completely natural and beautiful as she is. The difference she's made to my life is immeasurable, on the plus side of the scale, of course. Hidden feelings grow every day, eventually finding their way to the light at the surface. Almost everyone I know can see the resultant glow that emerges from me. One person even mistook it for a sun tan. "Where have you been?", she asked. "Lacey....?", was the honest, yet hesitant answer.
I used to dream about Jean Seberg, you know. Yes, you can look it up on the internet. Go on.
Music is an art, not in the highest classical form (for those old, establishment figures amongst you), but probably one of the most pervasive nonetheless. By association, music collecting is something of an artform as well. It deserves a better lot than it gets, that much is true to say. Credence courts and flocks to art collecting due to the vast sums of money that are often involved, and the cult of the unique object. Status is as status does, and no form of collecting is entirely free from it. It's a universe where some will pluck randomly from the racks to assemble their legacy, while others peruse, plan, and persevere. Sometimes only an original will do, for one of a myriad reasons, but then others still, just the music is necessary....THAT certain music, anywhere, anyhow. Any format, condition, or origin. If I did anything at all today, it was at least to reaffirm certain of these characteristics, through dipping (s)lightly into several books that I have wanted to obtain for a while, and now finally have. That's all it takes sometimes. The tomes in question? These....:
"The Ambient Century", Mark Prendergast (Bloomsbury)
"The Great Indie Discography (2nd Edition)", M.C. Strong (Canongate)
"This Is Uncool: The 500 Greatest Singles Since Punk And Disco", Garry Mulholland (Cassell)
The last of these is the one I spent the most time with today, given that it runs in a comfortable parallel with the fruition of my own (musical) life. What it fills me with is a sense of commencement, rather than one of finality. How many people do you think would want to argue about the bold claim stated in the title of the book, let alone finding themselves climbing into it, and disagreeing with the opinions they may see written, even in admiration of their most firm favourites? Why was this song picked and not that one? What on earth is that doing in there? And so on, ad infinitum. All of which debate may have reverberated with something of a hollow ring, were it not for the author including his e-mail address within the text, for such further discussion to take place closer to the source of its seeding, as it were. Now that, I feel, commands a certain respect. No matter what you may think of his skills as Selector, Mulholland's writing is never anything less than pithy and engaging, his points made from the heart. Here is someone who has felt this music. Felt it enough to consider its effect upon his life, and the world around him, and enough to then take these thoughts, compile them, and commit them to paper. Works for me, every time, and I feel sure it will keep doing so. Proof positive that although there may be billions of different, individual faces in the world, if you hold up a mirror, the only reflection you'll ever see will be your own....
We are all curating our own personal museums, collectors or not. They are called life. How about that? </Andrew> <!--5/31/2004 03:23:00 PM-->
Wednesday, May 12, 2004
<Andrew>
I saw the saddest thing today, as I was walking up the street to work this morning.
Someone has been killing ducks in the Corporate Center. They congregate around the pond and wetland area nearby, and always look so contented going about their daily business. A few months ago, several had been killed, and dumped in bushes close to the side of the road, their bodies arranged in a display eerily reminiscent of a butchers shop window. Earlier this week, I had noticed a solitary dead female, again within near sight of the sidewalk. As I approached the spot this morning, I noticed also that a male duck was there, and thought another to have been killed. But, no....the male was moving, looking down at the lifeless corpse of his mate. Standing guard over her body, and no doubt wondering what had happened to her. Ducks partner for life. If their mate dies, that's it. They never seek another.
</Andrew> <!--5/12/2004 06:36:00 PM-->
Tuesday, May 11, 2004
<Andrew>
Sick, and resting at home, I felt the sudden urge to write. People keep telling me I should become a writer, or at the very least write more than I do. I need to approach writing from an artistic standpoint though, in the same way as artists reinforce their skills, and arrive at their own signature, through the daily practice of their art. Words should flow from the fingers, as paint from the brush, sound from an instrument, stone from the chisel. I still have a long way to go, with plenty of scope for missives from the journey.
Two upcoming projects are at least at various stages of coming together. The first, a Summer single from the Fast Asleep Club, should appear on June 1st, via MP3 download from Propertyistheft. The second, a series of pamphlets entitled "The Phonographic Society" is slowly taking shape inside my head. I also dream of overhauling the website, and a club night by the name of "Dismantled Disco"....but where is the time? Life is for living, is it not?
So I went back home for a while (as outlined below), and I've been back in Olympia for about 10 days now, most of which has been spent not feeling at all well, and in the company of the beautiful girl who makes beautiful things. We've both been feeling so inspired, yet both not having really done anything about it. Our creative urges are well matched, neatly balanced between order and chaos, sometimes dangerously leaning one way or the other. She shines like a jewel, even away from the light.
As the warmer months fast approach us, my life is beginning to fill with lusts. Warm Summer evenings, repetitive beats, the artist's life, works on paper from Sigmar Polke, Gerhard Richter's photo-realist paintings, the noise/music of everyday life, pale blue, pale ale....
Warming the amplifier:
Mylo-"Destroy Rock & Roll"(Breastfed)
Franz Ferdinand-"Franz Ferdinand" (Domino)
Surely the only 2 serious candidates for album of the year....? Priceless artefacts of the now, to cherish.
Two Lone Swordsmen-"Faux EP" (Warp)
In which they re-birth themselves in Rough-Trade-circa-1980 mode. Album to follow, should be interesting.
Josh Wink-"Profound Sounds Vol.2" (Ovum)
Soars above the waves of the ocean of current mix CD's. Persistence and resurgence from the man who can.
Felt-"Crumbling The Antiseptic Beauty" (Cherry Red)
Re-issue from 1981. More crumbly and beautiful than ever. August and austerity in perfect harmony. </Andrew> <!--5/11/2004 02:14:00 PM-->
Thursday, April 22, 2004
<Andrew>
OK, it's been a very long time since I've written anything, but perhaps we can make up for that with a little "Bloggers International"....
So I'm typing this in Hove library. Back on home soil for a little while, sunshine coming in through the windows, and people milling about clutching books. Being here brings to the fore all of the emotions I have attached to this place, for better or worse. I do see why I left, why I had frustrations that led me away from the UK. But, it will always be home, and always be where the family is, so there will always be a reason to return, and it will always make sense, in my head, my heart or somewhere in between. It was a place for me that was filled with a certain routine....which is not to say that my life in Olympia isn't, but it still feels different enough, and comfortable enough to maintain. Although Olympia has huge annoyances of its own. Strangely the Brighton social/music/cool scene has something of a parallel (although this is a much bigger city), and I've always thought it just as pathetic. Those clothes, that hair, that attitude....thankfully, there'll always be people who have a life and aren't interested.
Yesterday was spent up in London, dashing about all over the place and getting very worn out indeed. Gone are the days when I could take such punishment on a daily basis, and it's doubtful they will ever return to be honest. Even on a grey, rainy day such as yesterday was, the air is still hot and dirty, feeling the dust and muck sticking to my moistened skin. Still, there are so many distractions, that has to be the main draw of London after all. Many record shops were visited, all of the usual suspects in fact, although I was proud of how little money I managed to spend (truth be told, new release CD's are much more expensive here than they are in the US, so I tend to restrict myself to second-hand bargains, and re-issues that are mostly unavailable over there). I also bought a copy of the latest David Shrigley book, from the ICA bookshop, full of the usual scribbled antidotes to normal society. The ascerbic wit of someone who is actually far more sane than most of us. Although I hadn't really set yesterday aside to see sights or take many pictures, such things are unavoidable in a place where you're literally surrounded by history and happenings at every turn. It's just an exciting place to be. It should also be mentioned that I'm a huge aficionado of the London Underground, and relish every opportunity I get to ride on it. Quite why it draws me in to the extent it does, I'm not really sure, but it's fascinating....and not quite the working museum it very nearly was during my period of living in the suburbs of Middlesex in the early Nineties.
Today, I made my way here on foot, in the resurgent sunshine. Writing this is actually an aside. I came here to read messages from my sweet loved one, who I am finding it painfully difficult to be away from, even in these most familiar of surroundings. I miss her terribly, everything about her....we've been writing, talking on the telephone, every day in fact, but having gotten so close in such a short amount of time, it was always going to be difficult. And it is. I'm reassured by the fact that I want to stay with her for a very long time, and that this time apart will be over all too quickly, then we'll be back in each others arms again. My family have been full of questions about these affairs of the heart, of course....they can see for themselves how happy I am, and I'm sure that's making them happy now.
Off now to Forfars (my bakery of choice) for an eccles cake. I dream of such things, often. One day we'll share some together in the sunshine, as we watch the waves wash over the pebbles on Hove beach. Then my life really will be complete. How could it get any better? </Andrew> <!--4/22/2004 04:41:00 AM-->
Thursday, April 01, 2004
<Andrew>
Another beautiful evening weather-wise. We're really into Spring now, which makes me think I really ought to mow the lawn soon, before it gets too out of hand. Perhaps this weekend. Hmm....by then it'll most likely be raining though.
It's hard to look for worries and problems in life at the moment, but I'm really good at it. I can find ones that are practically not there at all. Little things eat away at me until they grow into something bigger. This often gives many people the impression that I'm never satisfied with life. But then, who is?
I can still smell traces of the coffee she made this morning, before she left the house. See the websites she visited in the location bar of the browser. She made the bed, and washed her dishes. Her toothbrush sits in the bathroom, next to the basin. It's so different to feel so close to someone so new, that you can feel the tiny ripples of their existence spreading out in front of you. We focus patiently on the minutiae of our existence, writing notes, writing e-mails, talking, touching, feeling. Incidents and accidents may throw obstacles in the way, but these are only temporary. We'll get past those and more. Many more, I hope. The wise ones of old talk at length in their books and manuscripts, of how life is learning experience, from the day you are born, to the day that you die. It helps to look at life this way. The rewards will seem better than ever, when they finally arrive.
Antibiotics always make my tongue hurt. Covers it in lumps, and makes it sore and cracked. In the mirror, it resembles a dried-up river bed. At least I can take this as a sign that they're working, and that perhaps in a few days my throat won't feel like I'm swallowing sand, and I can stop coughing for 5 minutes.
Current stereo favorites? Buzzcocks' "Orgasm Addict", and "Love To Love You Baby" by Donna Summer. Are you spotting a link there? Evidently, Ms. Summer ceased performing the aforementioned song, after becoming a born-again christian. How very silly. At least it begat others in a similar vein....Lil Louis' "French Kiss" being a notable example. I need to find a copy of that too, I've been thinking about that track a lot lately. Minimal house....it's a great place to live. </Andrew> <!--4/01/2004 06:05:00 PM-->
Tuesday, March 30, 2004
<Andrew>
The house is a mess, half-started projects littering it's disorganized interior. Pie in the oven, to accompany the already eaten portion of leftover curry and rice, that I couldn't even be bothered to warm up. Listening to Mars at a devastating volume. The whole situation entirely in tune with the resonance/dissonance. Dusty corners, splinters of glass next to the bed, shining blue. We just lost control.
Hearts come together, everything falls apart. It's a beautiful situation. The temperature reached a balmy 79 degrees in Olympia yesterday, which only made it easier for me to get impatient and intolerant really. Advanced Onset Summer Madness....I must be a sufferer. Only walking through town in the sun with the girl of my dreams served to cool things down a little. Another wonderful evening together, opening boxes of CD's, then devouring their contents (Astrud Gilberto being the perfect dessert to accompany any such meal). Together, we're the Bonnie and Clyde of sight and sound. I still think of her, no matter how much time we spend together, or apart. Playing for keeps....always time to let the love in. The future is looking brighter. Tomorrow I'll even have antibiotics to finally kill off whatever it is that's living in my throat and chest.
I'll read to you, always. But what would you like to hear? </Andrew> <!--3/30/2004 06:30:00 PM-->
Saturday, March 27, 2004
<Andrew>
As the sun moves around the house, it casts wonderful configurations of light and shadows, through the blinds and out across the room. Alone again, the house vibrates like a discotheque to the sounds of A Certain Ratio, and the Crydamoure label. The speakers are speaking to me. She rode the bus home this morning, partially dressed, gorgeous and glamourous from the night before. Dinner, dessert, and drinks, in surroundings where I usually feel so out of place. Last night, it belonged to us....attracting smiles as we entered, sharing the shelter of my umbrella against the unrelenting rain. Falling jewels of water, glimmering in the night, against the darkest blue of the sky, the silken sheer of her stockings. The moving air, music for the gift. The gift is love.
Feeling adrift in a lazy, do-little bliss. I do need to get up and clean the house, shop for food, wash my skin. Wrapped in my robe, longing for tea, for toast with lemon curd, or English farmhouse cheddar. Daydreaming of her touch, her soft skin, her warm smile. Fantasies and sensations.
My parents called. It is they who understand. "He's laying in bed with his young lady!". "Give her all our love", they added, knowingly. I was only too willing to share. Holding the phone out of the window, so I could hear the blackbirds singing outside. Evening draws in over the fields of West Blatchington, time for roost, awakening early to feather their nests. A dusk chorus the likes of which are all too few, faintly floating in over the transatlantic static, the silence suppression, the narrow bandwidth, the coarse grained bit-rate. Chloe, on the other hand, knows how to meow into the receiver. Cats know how to use the telephone, instinctively. Perhaps it was they who invented it, in another age?
Can't you just hear the roar of those jet engines? They're getting closer.... </Andrew> <!--3/27/2004 01:43:00 PM-->
Friday, March 26, 2004
<Andrew>
It has been a long time since I've written anything, but my excuse is that I've been too busy enjoying life for a change. How about that?
Never mind the rain, never mind the persisting cold and cough, or the stomach cramps that have been bothering me all day. These are all things that will pass, at some point or another. Sometimes things happen that transcend the usual levels of connection to my life, and sometimes people come along that are the personification of such a complete understanding. Lately, I've been fortunate enough to have been able to spend an increasing amount of time in the company of such an individual. The antidote to the poison of loneliness and sadness. Lost in your arms, thinking, learning. Conversations with and without words. Never knowing how to explain such feelings of intensity. Wondering aloud if we're even real, on into the night. Linger on....your pale blue eyes.
Life just fades into soft focus. The dishes can wait, and they shall. Time slips by....there's always tomorrow. I did manage to find time to quech my thirst at the fountain of music, for the first time in much longer than usual. So I also get to look forward to coming down with a severe case of box frenzy next week.
Fortune cookie from a few weeks ago: "You have the ability to sense and know higher truth". Yes, I could sense it. But only now do I actually know it. </Andrew> <!--3/26/2004 06:21:00 PM-->
Wednesday, March 17, 2004
<Andrew>
I'm coming down fast with a cold. It's hitting me hard because my body is weak from an overpowering lack of rest. All the usual niceties that accompany such an event are putting in an appearence....aching joints, shivers, sore throat, sinuses draining down my throat like a waterfall. Ah well, first one of the year, and when the seasons change it is just the busiest time for germs to get out there and meet the public. Does anybody actually know the reason for this? Yeah, yeah, I know....just Google it.
The day just ground on and on. The noise and lights of work become this suffocating fog to any of us in there who are less than 100%. The screens flicker and blur, making my eyes burn in their reddening sockets. Even going for a walk wasn't the answer, however nice it was, it sapped energy that just wasn't surplus to requirements. Then grocery shopping was an utter chore. It's usually something I find oddly enjoyable, no matter how much I end up having to carry home afterwards. And even though it was only 2 bags worth of sustenance, though admittedly stuffed to overflowing, carrying them all the way up the hill (beautiful evening for a missed bus connection....) was as much as I could really put up with. Knudsen's Lemon Ginger Echinacea juice has now been consumed, but it's effect appeared to tail off shortly after leaving the surface of my tongue....
Was that really Durutti Column they were playing in Fred Meyer, by the way? I could've sworn....something from "Obey The Time"? I'm sure of it.
Luckily for me, sustaining forces are not entirely in absentia. Dear me, no.
There may be zero hearts in the Eastside, but flowers bloom downtown, abundantly, in every colour you could imagine. The closer I get, the more the petals seem to unfold. Slowly, softly, surely. So captivating, I can hardly believe they're real. Yet each time I return to admire them once more, I'm more consumed than ever I was before.
I really ought to be sleeping, but I know I'll feel better if I spend a little more time in the garden.
</Andrew> <!--3/17/2004 06:37:00 PM-->
Monday, March 15, 2004
<Andrew>
"The change will do you good, I always knew it would...." Gang Of Four.
Damaged goods? Life is full of opportunities, and I haven't perhaps always fully taken advantage of a lot that have come my way. People that know me to any meaningful extent usually get to find this out. Then, depending on what I think of them, that may be the end of any such conversation, or just the starting point for one after another. Too awkward for my own good, sometimes unintentionally, sometimes on purpose. Sarcastic, and self-deprecating. Repressed in a certain context, yet eager to smash off the lock and run whenever the chance presents itself. And all spoken in that accent too. Welcome to my fucking world. Yell insults at me from your car. Engage me in dialogue for the sake of it. Look at me like I'm crazy. Or whatever else it is you need to do.
Dare to understand such people, and they will become evasive. They will come up with reasons to attempt to explain this, which only serve to perpetuate their need to be who they think they are (at any given moment), rather than involve themselves in a meeting of minds where everyone concerned may be able to admit that they've been found out. There's no need to keep living in chess moves when every game will end in check-mate.
I've become disinterested in food and sleep lately. What does this tell you?
After a period of tepid indifference, I'm beginning to realize that I really like people again, and that I really like being around them....in situations I have a certain amount of control over at least. I am, after all, still me. I don't feel like being self-defeatist about anything that's going on. I like the happiness, and the wonderful configurations of language. I need this, and I always needed it. I was wrong about this for a long time, and I don't mind admitting it, not now.
Life's a riot in the Rene Magritte Appreciation Society. My friend Tom is one of the greatest existential explorers I think I've ever encountered in my life. Real next level shit, he said, flexing his Estate-boy cred. We like to focus on the great unraveling of any and all situations, reading between the lines that trail off of the page, blatantly staring at things that aren't there, then laughing at our surreal distortions of them. He, like me, needs to write a book. Being considerably less lazy than yours truly, he has the better chance of achieiving it. But I'm getting there, and I am going to get there. But only because people are helping me.
The last thing I want to be is like that song by F.R. David. You do remember F.R. David, don't you? No....you are lucky. Because now I have that tune playing in my head. </Andrew> <!--3/15/2004 07:45:00 PM-->
Sunday, March 14, 2004
<Andrew>
I sold myself out. Traded subtle surprise for knowing conviction.
"That's just not fair". It wasn't fair. It was completely unfair.
"You're terrible". And not only was I, but I absolutely knew I was.
Engulfed by silence (although it technically doesn't actually exist....4'33" and all that) and these bare off-white walls. I just get caught out, all the time. The secrets are gone, and right now I don't know where.
And if Jose Cuervo calls for me again, tell him I'm not here. I've defected to the reds, in the presence of company. Marx and Lenin? Nah, mate....Merlot and Zinfandel. </Andrew> <!--3/14/2004 10:08:00 AM-->
Saturday, March 13, 2004
<Andrew>
I used to do some strange things as a child. One of the them was to often plant the seeds from fruit I had eaten, into the pots of already established house plants. Apples, oranges, grapefruit, lemons, even peaches and nectarines (although the latter never amounted to much). The citrus fruits in particular would produce tall, dark green plants, with lush and shiny foliage. Sometimes the univited guests would be weeded out by my parents, other times, transferred to different pots so that they could thrive on their own. One of my little apple trees ended up in the back garden, although it's not there anymore (a store-bought one that actually produces fruit now occupies its former spot). I liked growing seeds too, especially Coleus. My parents used to have have a small greenhouse in the corner of the garden back then, which was perfect for the Coleus seedlings to keep warm. There's something about the fuzzy, heart shaped leaves, with their deep red centers, that always appeals to me. Subsequent attempts to grow them in adult life have usually failed though....most likely due to that lack of heat and sunlight.
What has this got to do with anything, you may well ask? Oh, come now, have you not yet noticed my fondness for analogy? Somebody new came into my life this week. Someone to whom I compare as a spiky old cactus, to their beautiful, fragile flower. Someone who seems to love music as energetically as I do, and seems to share an understanding of the things that are important to us. My mind is working overtime, and my body pays it in energy, time and a half.
I've been communicating a lot recently, with friends, with random people, in a variety of ways, and the dialogue has rarely been anything less than refreshing, no matter how small and meaningless the interaction. The whole week has been a bit of a rollercoaster, in the best possible way. The kind you can't wait to go on again, but wouldn't want to ride too many times, lest it should dull the breathtaking rush of the journey. Fun and frenzy. Memories are made of such things.
Given that, and the wonderful early-Spring sunshine that Olympia has basked in this week (and that is scheduled to be replaced tomorrow by a return to rain), the more practical aspects of life fell by the wayside. The house that was already a mess, became out of control, the yard is all but begging to be shown a little attention, the cupboards are shy a few essentials, and all but bereft of treats. So I've spent most of today cleaning to try and make up for that, and to try and make this a place where guests may actually want to remain for any measurable length of time. There's even guests that want to come over now, which applied the necessary final force, guiding my hand toward the mop and broom.
Bright lights may be distracting me, but their warm glow provides insulation against the cold, restless nights that March has to offer. A chill in the air, and a view of the stars. Endless patterns etched against the dark blue sky. Joining the dots, making pictures in my mind. Smiling and walking in the near-empty streets. </Andrew> <!--3/13/2004 06:27:00 PM-->
Wednesday, March 10, 2004
<Andrew>
"I've stared at the stars while I laid in a ditch, with my belly all full of wine...." Bill Drummond.
I can remember doing something very similar myself once, and it still sounds like fun to me. At the moment....it's more drinking Guinness Extra (as it's on sale everywhere at the moment, given the time of year), listening to Can, and staring at the monitor yet again.
This weekend, I finally completed the recording and assembly of the first 2 Fast Asleep Club mini CD-R's. In fact, I spent most of my weekend working on it, just so I could get it done while I had the impetus. 8 tracks a piece, 20-something minutes of sound on three inches of round, shiny plastic. It feels so good to have something finished, and I'm actually really happy with how they turned out as well, after some spur of the moment changes of direction, and fairly instantaneous ideas. So these may now see the light of day, in some woefully under-exposed form or other, during April. We shall see.
Obviously, having been through a period of shaking my skinny fists at my own reflection, at passers-by to this blog, and society at large, it's about time I was done with that again for a while. Don't worry, if you were enjoying it, it will come around again soon enough. Andrew scores 5 out of 5 for his dependability and co-operation, don't you know? Well, those feelings have been replaced by a sense of calm, and thoughtful meandering. Walking in the sun at lunchtime today, playfully kicking stones along the street, I was reminded of the fact that I don't need to make a full-time job out of being my own worst enemy. Though, in all honesty, it was events and interactions in the days prior to this, that actually convinced me that it wasn't necessary to feel that way right now. Even with my glasses on I can be short-sighted, in a metaphorical sense, and even miss some things completely. Silly boy.
Everywhere you look in life, some people have a better view of the road than others. Some can read people, situations, conversations. Sometimes I think words are the only thing I'm good at in any way at all. Deep down inside me, this lies buried as an absolute truth.
Some people say the art of subtle surprise is dead. My current opinion? Not as such....
"I've lived here for 7 years now, and I don't know anyone...." Dan Treacy (from that anthem of the disaffected, "14th Floor").
Oddly enough, my 7th anniversary of living here in Olympia is fast approaching, next month in fact. And I don't really know anyone. I know of them, I know this surface sheen, perhaps a facet or two of their character, and they know mine, but it can be so unfulfilling to just run up against that, time after time. Yes, we're back to human interaction again, the topic of the week. Sometimes I'd like to know more, sometimes I'd like them to know more, but my rather clumsy ways of trying to navigate that space between us, and the puzzled reactions it often seems to garner when attempted, just leave me feeling emotionally drained, and somewhat bedazzled. So the question is, am I just way too willing to give up that "space between", while others are trying to desperately cling onto theirs, and daren't give any of it away, for fear of....who knows what? I don't even see it. I see the need for a level of trust, for some basic mutual understanding, for an initial period of alignment with this other person. Then, beyond that, feeling a need to slowly break down the comfort zone, that naturally occurring distance between all people, as the friendship grows. But to just gloss over it? Pretend it isn't there? Going through life handling friendships completely avoiding its existence, keeping an arms length between the real you, and the rest of the world....?
So, it's thanks....but no thanks. If I've learned one thing in life, it's that a tiny handful of true friends are worth more than a boat-load of superficial ones. All of which is completely in opposition to the "Bottom Line" theory (explained in my March 2nd posting), which would appear to govern a broad swath of the South Sound social stockmarket.
Saturday morning, the sun is shining, but first I've laundry to do. Clean clothes are happy clothes. Last night the Curious-Blue dance-fest special was pretty good fun. Nothing raises the mood like deep bass, and repetitive beats. It felt great to just DJ standing up, using the two turntables and nothing else, except the studio microphone. Cueing, fading, no fancy mixing or beat matching. Just the music, the moonlight, and you. </Andrew> <!--3/06/2004 10:39:00 AM-->
Wednesday, March 03, 2004
<Andrew>
Nothing much to add today, other than things feel a little lighter now than they have the past few days. It's no bad thing. The post from yesterday was so difficult to parse out, and took long enough to write that it felt almost counter-productive by the time I was done. But perhaps that is why I feel a bit better now? If I could have just made the time for a long walk today, that really would have been something. I should make up for it later this week.
It would appear, now it's March 3rd and all, that my aforementioned tracks for the Propertyistheft.com MP3 series will not be available for download until at least next month. The choice of tracks for the first couple of 3" CD-R's has progressed a bit though, and I'd like to think I could have something complete and ready to sell/give away by next month, all being well. A lengthy normal sized CD of 3 extended, more willfully experimental pieces should be able to accompany them also. I have these issues with my music though, with anything creative that I do in fact. I can't listen to it in front of other people. It seems too uncomfortable of a thing to do. There's also the fact that I'm not really all that classically talented either, and only sporadically enthusiastic, to a point where I keep doing it. The current stuff? I'm happy with it, and it is my personal expressions that are creating the end result, but it's really only data processing, when it comes down to it. I do play the guitar on it, I do control all of the software live during recording, and do perform the final editing and mastering. But give anyone a disk with some samples on it, and they could probably produce something similar, from their own world-view.
"And I still find it so hard, to say what I need to say...." Bernard Sumner.
It may still be fairly early, but I feel strangely tired. Especially my muscles, which are taut and painful. My brain is also playing along, in part for a reason. I suppose I could put a certain amount of my feeling misunderstood down to fairly obvious things....the difference in my accent, the difference in my choice of words to explain things, the difference in my cultural background. I'm far from the greatest exponent of the spoken word, it is true. I can always say what I truly want to say far better in written form, or some other more considered method of communication. Being fairly shy often only adds to this social ineptitude, and increases my awareness of it, especially among groups or gatherings. At parties for example, someone would be far better off cornering me for a one-on-one conversation, in terms of my being able to share the best of myself with them.
Yet I worry, more so lately than for quite some time, that very few people really understand who I am, on even a small scale. I dare say a lot of people think I'm difficult to get to know, that too much persistence is needed to on their part to get any kind of meaningful result from our friendship, or acquaintance. So I talk, and I write, trying to relate to the feelings of others, through those of my own, and trying to convey mine to them as best I can. Sometimes this is easy, sometimes it's hard. There are so many variables that can affect the result of any meeting of minds. So why is feeling misunderstood such a difficult fate to accept? At the moment I think it may be tied to a masthead of failure. Failing to go out, failing to clean up the house, failing to organize my life. Failing to make a breakthrough. I'm not looking for validation, or acceptance. Just a feeling of trust, a level of understanding. A moment to share thoughts in the open.
In writing to a friend on this very subject, I recently coined an analogy that sums up how I feel, far better than my struggle for words above:
Like corporations, humanity looks at the bottom line....the shareholders look at how much money the companies are making, and people look at how much you are loved by others. Their judgements are often based purely on your results.
To which, the friend succinctly added:
The more it appears that you're loved and appreciated by others, the more others will want to be around you. But none of it really has anything to do with what you have to offer or who you are.
So this is what I have to offer, and the offer still stands. Ever felt close to declaring bankruptcy in the social currency of the day?
Against the grain, dialogue still takes place. Myself and Tom embarked on another of our epic debates on the sociological milleu this morning. Every once in a while we do this, taking a snowball, and turning into an avalanche, or vice versa. Such exchanges are by turn engaging, and hilarious. </Andrew> <!--3/02/2004 08:55:00 PM-->
Monday, March 01, 2004
<Andrew>
Mad March blew the rain away. Today, anyway. Even the garden is starting to look somewhat Spring-like, some flowers out, countless others popping up shoots. Too bad about those crumbling Autumn leaves on the lawn. I'll rake them all up sometime before the next lot fall....honest.
It was a nice enough day to get some walking in, so I was happy to oblige. Especially as I made another knockout batch of Thai Yellow Curry yesterday, with lashings of leftovers to enjoy during this week. That Mae Ploy brand paste is just the greatest, and I can't help but think that my return to full-tilt coconut milk (as opposed to the watered down, half fat "Lite" variant) made it better also, in a sumptuously heavy-going kind of way. A plate of that makes exercise almost obligatory.
I think I just had my nicest ever Washington State Liquor Store shopping experience. Despite the fact that I still can't get over how the State is allowed to have a monopoly on liquor sales (try explaining this to the average British person, and they will either frown in consternation, or just laugh at the concept), and that I'm almost completely used to being treated with either apathy or contempt when I go there, I was pleasantly surprised. The service was friendly, some conversation ensued. Perhaps it was all in the timing? I went near to closing time, yet not so late for the need of clock-watching, or sighs of impatience. No doubt the joyful rush of those "almost time to leave" feelings were beginning to kick in....works for me, every day. Regardless of reasoning, it was a vast improvement on the service-with-a-scowl usually on offer. Why, my purchases were even on sale. Marked down a dollar or two, beginning this very day.
All of which peeped some sunshine out from behind another black cloud of a day. Only passing through, that's all clouds ever do. There'll be many more, like all those before. Some will bring the rain, until things clear again. Then life will be fine, and the sun will shine.
"Blind alleyways allay the jewels...." Vic Godard.
I had never stared straight into the end of a rainbow before....until just now that is. So where do they end, you ask? At the corner of Puget & Yew, it would appear. There was no pot of gold, just an oil-streaked puddle, glimmering in the light.
Sunday means depleted grocery essentials, means walk up to Ralph's. Today it also meant getting soaked. I've literally just had to change everything I was wearing (with the exception of my t-shirt), as they were wet through. Yet it was a curious combination of bright sunshine and swirling shower, hence the appearance of the rainbow on the way home. Even though I had an umbrella, it did little other than keep my head dry. Even the cats were caught out. One particularly brave fuzzy ginger tabby could not resist my call to him, and very vocally came running out to rub around my dampened legs. So impressed was I by his hunger for love, I set my umbrella and groceries down on the street, and made a fuss of him for a while. I think we both appreciated that. Further along, a pair sat with their ears folded down. cowering on their porch. One grey, one black, with an almost identical sprinkling of white patches. Both of them visibly perked up as I walked by, but gave me the universally understood "It's raining!" face. Despite getting wet, it was rather life-affirming to be out and about in it. Particularly as I've spent the entire rest of the day feeling utterly despondent with my world, its cycles, and paradigms, more so than I have for a long time. Walking roads to nowhere, physically and mentally. </Andrew> <!--2/29/2004 03:21:00 PM-->
<Andrew>
Another late night, going on early morning. One of these days, I'll become the sleeper I used to be, once more. I think I was about 11 when the mirror in my room fell off of the wall and smashed one night. And everyone else in the house woke up....except me, until somebody flipped all the lights on to see what was up. My recent habit of nodding off on the bus on the way home from work, is most likely related to old age more than anything else.
Tonight, I've been dancing, if you can call it that. Alright, and drinking as well, but mostly dancing. This started out from listening to late-Sixties shakers John's Children (how can one not dance to tunes like "Desdemona", or "Go Go Girl"), but eventually progressed into reminders of recent criticism from the dance contingent of listeners to my radio show....that it has been too rock-ist of late, mostly due to how enamored of the Post-Punk era I've been recently (and have pretty much always been, in fact). So, I started pulling out all manner of 12-inch vinyl from the past few years. Which quickly turned into my compiling a dance-only, vinyl-only selection for the show on this coming Friday. So, there I am, alone in the front room, spinning tune after tune. Sometimes I wonder what people walking past my house must think I'm up to. Perhaps that I'm running some kind of dismantled disco? I wish.... </Andrew> <!--2/29/2004 12:59:00 AM-->
Saturday, February 28, 2004
<Andrew>
At what point in life do we begin to care about different things? Don't you ever look back and think that things like that just crept up on you gradually, then took hold for good one night while you were sleeping? The fearless become nervous wrecks, the wallflowers bloom brightest pink, the thoughtful evolve into outcasts. Perception is a word that I (and, funnily enough, others around me) have been using a lot lately. It's both an escape clause from Society's protection racket, and a weapon it can re-shape to use against you.
A case in point: I have these certain issues with the passing of time, based largely upon how the time has passed in my life. Time moves forward, or at least, that is how it is measured. The momentum of that movement is therefore one of progression. Lack of progression, therefore, would appear to indicate some kind of weakness, or failing, on the part of the individual. And then there is the lack of control over the time that has elapsed. Who has never wished they could rewind, or fast-forward through parts of their lives? Or have certain passages be ran in slow motion, so that they could be better studied and appreciated? Yes, that's what history and memory are for. But neither of those things are free from bias and distortion. We are all revisionists, to some degree.
There's probably some deep seated debate that needs to occur along these lines, but I haven't the energy for it this early in the morning, and I've only had one cup of Tetley so far. But at least there's more in the pot, keeping warm under the tea cozy. I say Tetley (because that's what I have in the house right now), but tea is something where I don't really have a lot of brand loyalty. I mean....I have preferences. PG Tips, Typhoo, Co-Op "99"....it's brown, you put milk in it, and you feel better after you've drunk it, no matter what. Yes, I'm sold on the cult of tea. Completely and utterly. It's in my blood.
UbuWeb has always been a wonderful website, bursting with essential reading on sound-art, concrete poetry, and the deconstruction of language and sound. It gets more and more vital by the day. One of the latest additions to their online library is a PDF-version of "Stockhausen Serves Imperialism", Cornelius Cardew's long out-of-print collection of writings from the first phase of his conversion to Communism, and the repudiation of his previous work in experimental composition, and of his two major influences, John Cage and Karlheinz Stockhausen. It makes for passionate, if somewhat uncomfortable reading, and sets up all manner of tantalising confrontations. The question it raises in my mind is, what if Cardew had lived long enough to reconcile these two phases of his life? Surely it would have led to history taking a more considerate view of his work, and thought.
There's almost a parallel with Pier Paolo Pasolini. He makes a film like "Salo" with little advance explanation of his reasoning for doing so, then was murdered before the full force of its impact could be assessed. Debate has then raged ever since, nowhere more than in Australia, where the film has been banned, un-banned, then banned once more. When I left England in 1997, it would have been unthinkable to have owned a copy of it on video, yet now it is widely available there on DVD, in a full and uncut version. It just goes to show that attitudes can change. Of course, since I've been in the U.S., the reverse has happened, and although nobody in politics dare mention the words "banned" and "censorship" out loud (Freedom Of Speech, and all that....yeah, whatever), we'd all be foolish to think our everyday lives aren't governed by it. That is to say, enforced by others on our behalf, without our permission.
Outside, flowers bloom, the sunshine watery through thinning layers of cloud. Let's get dressed, let's get cleaned up, and go for a walk. Right after another refill.... </Andrew> <!--2/28/2004 11:09:00 AM-->
Wednesday, February 25, 2004
<Andrew>
"Breaking down, breaking down. The uncertainty of waiting around...." James Kirk.
Tonight's wine is an Australian Merlot. I'm no expert, but it is fruity, and I'm guessing it must be all the sunshine. Previously, I was out buying sheets for the soon-come new (correct) bed. Why was almost every color on sale, except for blue? I shared similar disdain with the slightly bemused shop assistant. I think perhaps she thought I was mad. The solid dark blue were not on sale, neither the light blue, nor the blue plaid. So, I had to settle for grey in the wintery/flannel line, but did find a rather fetchingly mysterious dark blue in the summery/cotton section. So, all was not lost.
There are opportunities out there in life, aren't there? Ones that won't punish me for troubling them? Ones that may actually mean something, to someone, somewhere, other than me? I'm seriously beginning to wonder. E-mails, interactions, good old-fashioned joie de vivre....they have all dried up. Second glances, second chances, new advances. All to no avail, and no reward. Or so it seems. Life is all about perception, don't you know.
So I drain the grape and grain, and listen to some of yer genuine Second-Summer-Of-Love Acid House ("Acid Trax Vol.2", if we're being all exact). 1988, and all that. Escapism? Yes, please. Any escape would be welcome right now. There's little that sounds better, to be honest. </Andrew> <!--2/25/2004 10:25:00 PM-->
Tuesday, February 24, 2004
<Andrew>
No matter what you may have done today, I hope perhaps that downloading The Grey Album, or purchasing a copy of DVD X-Copy may have been among them. Freedom? Yeah, right. Only the filthy rich need bother applying. Cynical and sarcastic at the same time.
Listening to snarling '60's UK/US punk on crackly vinyl, drinking cheap (yet excellent) Argentinian red wine, and confident in the fact that despite my own eccentricities and insanities, there's others that need the treatment far more than I do. Daydreamer deluxe I may be, but I'm a realist above most else. And I can spot plastic people a mile off. They can rarely ever be more than tolerated. Go for the genuine article, every time. It may take persistence, but it will pay off in the end. Crack the plastic shield, and get to the heart of the matter.
I may go for a walk in the dark in a moment. There's a breeze outside to sweep away the cobwebs, inside and out. Last night there were clear skies, many stars, and a bright crescent moon. Tonight....who knows?
I do little well, but can play other people's records with the best of them. Small mercies? You've got to love them. </Andrew> <!--2/24/2004 08:33:00 PM-->
Monday, February 23, 2004
<Andrew>
The days may not be packed but at least they're moving, just about. And the comfort level in the house has increased exponentially since the introduction of a proper bed, and a couch. Admittedly, they did deliver me the wrong bed though, but that is being rectified later this week, so no harm done. In fact, it's given me the opportunity to correct a mistake in my purchasing it, which is that a Full size may be wide enough, but it certainly isn't long enough for my elongated form. My feet always usually stick out of the bottom, but not perhaps to quite that extent. The extra 4 inches the step up to Queen size will give me should take care of that. The only downside being that all of the bedding I currently have won't fit it, but....oh well. I needed to buy more anyway, now I just need to do it sooner.
Some recent Spring-like weather has given me the opportunity to go out for some walks, including a trek over to Priest Point Park yesterday, where I haven't been for a couple of years at least. Living so close to it when I first came to Olympia, I didn't realize how lucky I was. Getting up in the morning sunshine (or morning downpour for that matter), walking over to the park, then just taking in the views, perhaps paddling my feet in the water....that was almost a daily occurence for me back then. It was the longest walk I've been on for quite a while as well, a good hour and a half of just flat out pushing it, up and down hills along the way. I love walking up hills. No other choice when you grow up around Brighton, as all roads lead upwards from the sea, at varying gradients. My legs (especially the knees) felt like they need more walks like this, and I felt just great when I was done. Funny really, because I'd managed to put off leaving the house until about 4.00pm. Sometimes the idea of doing that just seems like too much trouble. I still haven't figured out why.
Excitement? Yeah, I'm working on it. Except that in truth, I'm not. Going through the motions is more like it. I did the radio show on Friday, etc. etc. I've been hatching some plans to put out some CD-R releases of some of the music I've been working on (and just gathering in a large pile) for the past few years, and apparently I'll have another "Single of the Month" available for download fairly soon from Property Is Theft. Probably March 1st onwards. I also have a track on the "Property Is Theft Variety Compilation" CD, which is now (finally) available for sale. Other than that, I've returned to picking at "The Writing On The Wall: Britain In The Seventies", Philip Whitehead's wonderful linguistic condensation of the most grim period in recent British history, and that which I also happened to be born into, and watching appropriately insightful Real Audio clips of televisual decay at TV-Ark, that shine bright lights through the fog of youthful half-rememberance. I mean, I hadn't heard that haunting theme music from "Stepping Stones" since back in 1978. To be honest, I'd forgotten it even existed (although, the programme itself was eminently forgettable). It all brings back memories....half days at school, walking down to Portslade with my Mum, buying food at Key Markets or Shoppers Paradise, waiting at the "ding-ding gates" of the level crossing. Dark clouds, grimy streets, rubbish bins blowing along Sunninghill Avenue, leaving trails of litter-strewn destruction in their wake, until they smacked into a lamp post, or any other obstacle blocking their path.
On the stereo? Liquid Liquid, The Homosexuals, Thomas Brinkmann, Donna Summer. Hey, I even caught the last 20 minutes of some bizarre Disco cash-in flick starring Ms. Summer last night ("Thank God It's Friday"...prime for a revival if you ask me), on the Women's Entertainment channel. Which is right between IFC and Turner Classic Movies, OK? If we're talking TV though, China Central Television (Channel 251 here in town) is still the number one choice in this house. A favorite of my Mum & Dad too, as it happens. </Andrew> <!--2/23/2004 06:46:00 PM-->
Wednesday, February 11, 2004
<Andrew>
Nothing much happens, and nobody hardly seems to write or call lately, yet productivity can still flourish to pass the time. The washer and dryer have burst into life for the first time (laundry will never be this much fun ever again), a CD writer is freshly installed in my (currently dormant) Linux box, and the beast of a stereo has also come out of the boxes, for something of a test run, admittedly. Best way to test a hi-fi system? Anything by King Tubby. Osbourne Ruddock was a notoriously fastidious man, and an absolute audio ruler. Perfect separation and clarity. I swear the walls were shaking. Throw in a couple of beers, and we'll call it a good night.
I seem to be putting on some weight lately, and nowhere else but the stomach, of course. That's what staying at home most of the time does for you I suppose. I've been trying to walk though, especially on days like today, which hint at what Spring will shortly have to offer. The views of Mt. Rainier from the loop around work were at their pinnacle. Usually too cloudy in the Winter, too hazy in the Summer. Today, just perfect, foothills stretching out for miles. </Andrew> <!--2/11/2004 10:45:00 PM-->
Sunday, February 08, 2004
<Andrew>
And on the weekend, the sun shone. So I went out for a bit, walking, talking, eating lunch with friends, and being sung to down the telephone by their daughter. Some of the streets were paved with sun loving tortoiseshell meow-ers.
Friday night's radio show, with it's mix-CD giveaway, seemed to go down very well. In the case of the CD's, almost too well. The original plan to give out 3 of them, quickly became 6 as the telephones went mad, and my heart melted at the response. A few people even called to say they just liked the show, some of whom didn't even have CD players! So those will all get mailed out now, and the remaining copies for friends will be given out also.
Did a little more straightening out of the house. Yet as I straighten one bit, another falls into disarray as a result. Reminds me of when I was at school, about 6 years old, sat eating school dinners, not wanting to eat my peas....putting as few as I could into my mouth, scattering a few onto the floor, persuading the person sitting next to you to eat a forkful, and piling the rest up into a slightly smaller, yet taller, island of green-ish bullets. All under the watchful eye of the ever-hovering dinner ladies, scornfully insisting that you eat them, because they're good for you. An organized house would also be good for me, but that doesn't mean it's going to happen either!
Keep listening to 2 songs over and over, by bands who have next-to-nothing else available on CD, as of the moment at least. Scritti Politti's, "Skank Bloc Bologna", and "We Are All Prostitutes", by the Pop Group....both extracted from the almost entirely wonderful "Rough Trade Shops Post-Punk 01" compilation on Mute. British late-1970's paranoia at it's best.
Communication, hit and miss. Dick's Double Diamond Winter Ale, and blue label Stoli, guilty pleasures. Blocking out the light, filling in the gaps.
"Touch" by Curd Duca just popped up on the stereo. Sensual, microscopic, genius. </Andrew> <!--2/08/2004 10:01:00 PM-->
Wednesday, February 04, 2004
<Andrew>
February. Month of linearity, though with perhaps less rain than January. Other than that, not much happens.
I work, I bus around town, I listen to music, and work on little projects. Current project being an (anti-)Valentine mix CD for friends. I'll actually be giving away 3 of them on the radio show on Friday night, if anyone cares to call in. Anyone other than the friends who will be getting one anyway, that is. Unless they want two of them....
Excitement seems unlikely in such circumstances, and in such an environment. But, there's always hope, and there's always tomorrow. </Andrew> <!--2/04/2004 09:28:00 PM-->
Sunday, February 01, 2004
<Andrew>
February already. I suppose I ought to be glad that January is over!
Today was a day of low-key enjoyability, with perhaps a tad too much isolation. The sun came out for the first time in what seems like forever. This in turn bought cats out of doors, meaning I had a chance to pet no less than 3 while walking to Ralph's Thriftway and back. Miaow! Ralph's may be a little more expensive than the bigger grocery chains, but it certainly carries a lot of food I like to eat. Not to mention a keen beer selection. Today, I plumped for Pike Place Brewing's 5X Stout, which is the deepest, darkest brew this side of Guinness Extra Export, and North Coast's Old Rasputin. Tastes like brown sugar poured into a coal mine. Pure class.
Other highpoints included a very engaging e-mail exchange with Erika, burning some CD's for Al while reading about New Wave/No Wave detritus (tinnitus?) online, listening to a bunch of freshly purchased CD's for the first time and enjoying every single one of them (in particular, the Metal Urbain reissue collection, "Anarchy In Paris" deserves your attention), and making a batch of my patented tofu stir-fry that was just a joy to consume. Its' delicious secret is in the sauce combo I use. Except, nice guy that I am, I shall reveal the secret to you. I usually don't measure out the amounts exactly, just use the ingredients in a vague proportion, but this is about how it works out. Where applicable, I've listed the brands of items I have residing in my fridge at this very moment.
Mix together, in a bowl, jug, or some other vessel:
2 teaspoons of dark brown sugar
2 teaspoons of Vietnamese chili garlic sauce (Huy Fong Foods brand)
2 tablespoons of Hoisin sauce (Lee Kum Kee brand)
Quarter cup of Tamari or Soy Sauce
Three-quarter cup of Sake (my preference is for Hakutsuru)
Pour this joyous mixture over your pre-fried tofu and veggies (or whatever), then put the lid on and simmer for anything from 3-10 minutes, depending on how crisp or soft you like your stir-fry, and how well you want the sauce to cook into your food. You will not be disappointed. Serve over noodles, rice, cous-cous, quinoa....whatever. It's all good.
Time for bed I think. If you can call that thing I sleep on a bed. It's full-time job is a couch, and it's not even very good at that.
I'm never sure if the weekend is a good thing or not. I mean, of course it is in the sense of not having to go to work, not get up early, and do some things I might like to do. But then, what are those things? Work on stuff around the house, cleaning up, thinking about things I shouldn't be wasting my time with. Is it so wrong for a person to wish for something a little more fulfilling?
I'm a regular daydreamer (as if you couldn't guess), but I don't dream at night all that often, which probably ties in to the fact that I'm not the greatest sleeper either. Last night though, there were at least two notable events I could make out. One was pouring myself out a bowl of breakfast cereal, and finding a piece of brown crockery in it, about 3 inches across. The other was talking to Tony Wilson, sat down on a flight of steps leading up to a building, and asking him how many of the sleeves he had a hand in designing for Factory Records. Such bizarre music-related dreams have not been uncommon throughout my life. I always think of the one I had years ago, where my mission was to get The Monkees back together. Having succeeded in this task, I left them on a sunsoaked beach, then walked out into the sea, fully clothed, and just kept going. And that was the point at which I woke up, of course.
I'd have nothing to write (or talk) about sometimes, were it not for my eccentric imagination.
Had to do the radio show again last night, at short notice, filling in for my Friday night alternate, who is now in my debt, yet again. The musical content was perhaps better and more even than last week, but the delivery was lacking, due to my hurried state, and general tiredness. Returning home to a house bereft of alcohol after such an experience is just a crime, of which I let myself be guilty. One high point was getting to have a conversation with someone about the Young Marble Giants "Colossal Youth" album, which is just one of the best that has ever been released, in my humble opinion. I love turning people onto that album, so making another convert filled me with happiness.
So what is certain for today? Well, it's a Saturday morning....it's grey and miserable looking outside the windows, a pot of tea is brewing, my parents will no doubt be calling me shortly, and I'm thinking about a girl I saw on the bus ride home last night. Other than that, who knows. I do feel like I need to rest a little bit longer though, my muscles feel tight, tense, and painful. But a cup of tea will probably help with that, because a cup of tea helps with everything. English, yes....that's right. Stereotypically yours, from the heart. </Andrew> <!--1/31/2004 10:05:00 AM-->
Thursday, January 29, 2004
<Andrew>
"You must think me very naive...." Edwyn Collins.
I certainly wasn't so naive when I was 23. And I'd already learned the lesson of not using the tactic of the silence as well, unless it was in the most extreme of circumstances. My game of hearts continues, elsewhere. The next potential player may even have a heart in their deck. It helps to know which game is being played also.
Did I feel bad....yes. For about 2 hours. Then my reality kicked in, and friends confirmed the truth.
Thank goodness for friends in such times as these. Had drinks with one yesterday evening, which was so, so very enjoyable, despite time spent in my desolate domicile, and lunch with another today. I'm beginning to feel so much more comfortable being me, in all of my various ways and facets of being me too. I'm so happy to be seeing the importance, warmth, and detail of these friends too, overcoming my own fears, as well as my past occurrences of being less than sparkling company. I'm starting to laugh, talk, write, and generally feel more alive. Small steps down a road that I know I should be further along than I am, but there's plenty of time, and I want to enjoy the journey. We live and learn. I always did like learning.
The winter rains of Washington are in full flow, making things seem a little less bright than perhaps they would otherwise be. Olympia's grey/green environment never looked so comfortable in it's color scheme. In England, they now appear to be having the cold and snow that we shivered through not so long ago, though I doubt very much it's as severe down home on the South Coast. The tides and sea breezes have so much to answer for.
I can see it all now....the windswept shingle beach, salt water in the breeze messing up my hair and stinging my face. Bracing walks along the seafront, then a pint of something dark in the humid comfort of the creaking, well-worn interior of one of Brighton's seemingly infinite pubs. Walks at night, winding through the amber glow of the street lights, kicking piles of maple leaves gathered along the Old Shoreham Road. Crossing Hove Park in pitch darkness until you get though to the other side. Not a soul about, except for scampering foxes in search of a meal.
Sometimes having more than one "home" can be an advantage. </Andrew> <!--1/29/2004 09:06:00 PM-->
Saturday, January 24, 2004
<Andrew>
"Putta block on the words...." Mark E. Smith.
Saturday night, so full of potential. Yet here I am, typing this, and seriously thinking about just going to bed afterwards. It's been a nothing sort of a day, and I guess I can't be bothered to see it through to the end, even though it's the weekend. There have been high spots, amongst the chores, and guessing games. Spoke with my parents, that's always good. E-mailed a few people I haven't been in contact with for a while, which was good too. Other than that, same old things on my mind, same old waiting for something (anything) to happen. My track record of actually going out and making things happen seems to be getting worse all the time. I grow impatient, hoping for everything to have been a misunderstanding....that's why the phone doesn't ring, why the words aren't being written.
I did a better than usual radio show last night, so others have told me. Emotionally charged it certainly was. Music is a great way to channel what you're feeling into a language that even people who have never met you can understand.
Is it me, or is it her? What does she know, or what do I not know? 5 minutes face-to-face, and the right words could clear the pathway between our hearts, I'm sure of it. The current silence is just eating away at me, I cannot shift my mind away to anything else. Romantic and pathetic in a single heartbeat. The millions of other opportunities in the world, for now at least, mean nothing.
The heather doth bloom inside of my heart, whilst poisoning my mind. Where is the fun, where is the love, where is the future? </Andrew> <!--1/24/2004 09:48:00 PM-->
Wednesday, January 21, 2004
<Andrew>
Much as I dislike neglecting the blog at the moment, I like having something to say far more. My impatience grows, with myself, and others. Too much time to think about things I suppose. At least (thanks to Al's initiative and expertise) I am doing a little better in the furniture stakes than I was, say, 3 days ago. Time slips by....and for some things in my life, time has now run out. For others still, time is running out fast. Held my cards long enough. Win or lose, I'm tiring of playing this particular hand. </Andrew> <!--1/21/2004 10:22:00 PM-->
Monday, January 19, 2004
<Andrew>
Well, I ended up taking a few days away from the blog. It's probably no bad thing, as I tried to process a little of the stuff that's been playing on my mind lately. So, yes, Friday morning I had to be taken to the hospital. They did find some inflammation of my chest wall, and I have some pain medication for that, but mostly anxiety and stress were to blame, not surprisingly. Saturday was a very dark day indeed, picking at the bones of my own existence. A day to listen to what family and friends had to say of my situation, and then to try and find my own way out of this stifling fog of too many goals, too many failures, too much at stake, and no way forward. But for this time around at least, I have turned the corner a little. The advice that a number of important people in my life have given me, is what I really need to be aiming for: Try not to dwell on the past over and over, and don't try to pin too much on the future, or to force it....just let things happen for a while. It's an easy to thing to say, but I know it will be a much harder thing for me to actually live. For some reason, I just don't seem to operate in a way that lends itself to such a logical solution.
If one thing made this weekend easier, it was that people called to check on how I was doing, or sent e-mails. I'm very appreciative for all of that support, at any time, but especially now.
So, the past few days have been restful ones. A little more progress on the music front, replying to e-mails, making a large pan of Thai Yellow Curry (when can you ever have enough leftovers of that?), going for a nice long walk (and talk) around the neighborhood with Al, and harvesting remixes of The Rapture off of the internet (you can get those right here). As usual with remixes, some of them work better than others, but just in case you didn't pick up on it already, I do rather like The Rapture. I've been caning the recent reissue of "Man Ah Warrior" by Tapper Zukie as well (it's on Trojan). Just placed my first order at Forced Exposure for quite a while too, which is always exciting. Or perhaps I'm just way too easily excited. Cardboard Box Syndrome, see. Who doesn't love receiving a brown cardboard box at the door with their name on it? Especially in January....you can almost hear the rush of all those new releases into the marketplace! </Andrew> <!--1/19/2004 06:29:00 PM-->
Friday, January 16, 2004
<Andrew>
The inevitable crash occurred today. A trip to the Emergency Room, and now some days of rest, and prescription pills. Too weary to keep typing now, so I'll fill in the blanks tomorrow. </Andrew> <!--1/16/2004 11:56:00 PM-->
Thursday, January 15, 2004
<Andrew>
Time goes by so slow. I still don't feel good, and I'm still getting nowhere with anything. "Don't give up", say sources close to me. That and, "Keep your chin up". Yet I'm barely capable of either. Orange Juice were on the stereo ("The Heather's On Fire"), but that finished a while ago now. The house is cold, and grapefruit juice doesn't cut it for comfort. Herbal tea, warm shower, and bedtime are on the horizon. There's something to be said for predictability and routine, but right this minute it isn't what I'm looking for.
I think of poor Tom, who had to have a camera down his throat today for a biopsy on his aesophagus. Must've been awful, at least they put you out for it. Tomorrow I shall most likely call and see how he's doing. That should cheer us both up.
I couldn't call my current situation progress. Unless moving on into a new generation of "What's the point?" moments qualify as an actual step forward. No, I didn't think so.
The only problem with upping the stakes in any game, is you have more to lose. I could reveal my full hand, but only as a final gesture. Once that's done, it's a straight result. You win, or you don't.
The game is hearts, and as I once exclaimed before (in 1996, to be exact), the only way to play hearts is to win. My cards are not the best, more creased and worn than ever before, but there's always the luck of the draw. Such is the latest game, the pain of failure will be immense if I lose. </Andrew> <!--1/15/2004 09:48:00 PM-->
Wednesday, January 14, 2004
<Andrew>
Nothing much to add today. I'm not feeling too well, and am having an early night, which I'm sure will do at least some good. My chest and back hurt, and everything feels like hard work. It's probably just stress or anxiety related, but I'm going to head over to the doctor tomorrow and get looked over I think. It's really taken the shine off of the day, and off of me, I haven't really felt like smiling at all since I woke up.
Yesterday ended up not being the complete loss it could have been, as I was able to spend a couple of hours talking with a friend I sadly hadn't seen for a while (Hello Al), which was inspiring, invigorating, and fun, despite all of the surroundings we chose to hold said dialogues in. Including my house, which would be hard pressed to be less inviting to guests. My fault entirely.
I've been exploring new avenues, but all of the streets and trails have gone cold. The voice I'm listening out for just isn't there. I will be patient, and perhaps rewarded, but at the very least informed. Walking and listening, all the while.
So, in summing up, the news is heartache all round. </Andrew> <!--1/14/2004 08:57:00 PM-->
Tuesday, January 13, 2004
<Andrew>
I am a man of many paradoxes. I hate having nothing to do, I'd rather be interested than asleep, and I'm not very good at sleeping anyway. Fit, yet a layabout. Gentle, yet sometimes so angry with the world. Carefree, yet opinionated. The list goes on and on, similarly separated by commas at every turn. I'd love to go out, but that would mean leaving the house....
So it's just after 7pm. And I have nothing to do. Nothing that would make me want to do it anyway. Have had my first 2 cups of coffee in a year during the past week, and have enjoyed the taste, yet regretted how they have made me feel afterwards. Tea is just better, yet familarity will always breed contempt. I've been feeling strangely nervous lately, and my uncomfortable fold-out couch/bed thing makes me greet each morning with neck, back, and shoulder aches that I thought would take until at least 50 to reach me. Too much time to think invariably leads to deconstruction, then destruction. Cats meow at me from window sills when I call them.
One of the advantages of riding public transportation is what a great respect for patience it teaches you. It is not without its uncomfortable and infuriating moments however. I think of myself as a fairly patient person, yet that is also a complete fabrication when applied to things that actually happen in real life.
Some decisions need to be made. They are eating away at me, and making my chest feel tight. I bide my time. I wait for people to write. I live out all of the possibilities inside my head, and wonder which combination of them will occur for real.
Plans? I have no plans at all. A brand new datebook for 2004, that contains family birthdays only. The optimists yell, "That's so exciting! The possibilities are endless!". The pessimists shout, "Your life is empty! And the future bleak!". I meanwhile, look on....disinterested, eating neapolitan ice cream, with a little natural yogurt on the side.
"Failure exists in relation to goals. Nature has no goals, and so can't fail. Humans have goals, and so they have to fail. Often the wonderful configurations produced by failure, reveal the pettiness of the goals....Our entire experience is this side of perfection".
Cornelius Cardew, 1936-1981.
The above statement by Cardew sums up what I think about music, better than anything I could ever write myself. The fact that people feel the need to endlessly rework and retool pieces of music, I have always found rather strange. Computer technology has made this process even easier to achieve, and to a far grander and deeper degree, than ever before. If making comparisons between music and art, such methods lend an affinity to sculpture. That a sound recording is merely an uncarved block to be massaged and manipulated, until it resembles the likeness of an artwork. Others still, believe that music is intrinsically tied to painting, and certainly in specific areas of sound, such as Sound-Collage, and Musique Concrete, there is ample opportunity to demonstrate a 'painterly' use of sounds, as strokes and fragments are applied to the 'canvas' of the ambience.
I side with the post-punks, and the photographers. A piece of music, as it stands in today's society at the very least, is nothing more than a snapshot, a backdrop, a part of the motion of everyday life. It exists as a fleeting entity that when studied closely, can reveal endless detail amongst the grades of color, and the grain of the raw materials. With the abundance of sounds and images that are everywhere an individual could care to look, or listen, in the 21st Century, it has almost become impossible to think of it as anything of greater relevance. Of course, personal preferences and attachments will ultimately hold the key to how such things are perceived and interpreted by different people. And therein lies the beauty of the world we live in, and its' myriad of possibilities....
On the jukebox tonight, Cabaret Voltaire ("The Voice Of America", not my favorite CV album, but still a good one), Prince Jazzbo, and "I Need Your Love" by The Rapture (again), as good a re-iteration of Disco as you could wish for in 2004.
And 2004 is the year when love has to become important again, both for myself, and for the wider world. I'll be doing my bit to make sure it happens....slowly, surely, steadily. As Cardew says, we're all going to ultimately fail anyway, so we may as well have fun while we're doing it. </Andrew> <!--1/12/2004 09:59:00 PM-->
<Andrew>
Different night, different loud music. The Rapture and Studio 1 (a.k.a. Wolfgang Voigt) tonight. Can you do the polka-dot shuffle? This is why music is my life, sort of.
OK, I'm a little more rested now. Laundry done, and I even made some new Fast Asleep Club music, for the first time in 8 months. If anything comes of it, anyone reading this will be the first to know! Work beckons tomorrow, but bring it on. I'll give as good of a kicking as any that I receive.
One of these days, I'll post my life story on the site. Or you could just wait for the book to come out (!). When I receive reminders, any reminders, that I'm not alone these days, they really mean something. </Andrew> <!--1/12/2004 12:04:00 AM-->
Sunday, January 11, 2004
<Andrew>
Late night rockers. King Tubby's a-blaring on the (borrowed) hi-fi at Blues volume. Irie.
I feel slammed. Worked 70+ hours this week, and only now is it starting to hit home. This weekend will be my first days off in over two weeks, and I will not be straying too far from my bed, that's for sure. Although I did go and get a much needed haircut, at my usual Lacey hairdresser/sheep shearer. I say that, because it is always over so quickly at said establishment. And I always have loyalty issues, as Headroom in Brighton ('nuff respect) is my hairdresser of choice....those guys have cut my hair since I was 5 years old! But, I digress. Girl at aforementioned hair butchers was having some issues with an admirer, and of course, I get to hear all about it, and respond in a typical English deadpan missive style. I feel such a strange connection here....probably because of my council estate roots!
2004 continues, with or without me. There's been a few knock-backs, and I feel bruised, and confused as to whether my initial hope for this new year was a little premature. I hope not, a little good fortune wouldn't go amiss. My short-term memory continues to fade, alcohol continues to feel far, far too good, and grey hairs continue to appear. In my head, things are as they were years ago, but my body can't cushion the impact of life. Life sucks, and then you die. And so it goes. That said, I'll fight the fight until I breathe no more. </Andrew> <!--1/11/2004 12:43:00 AM-->
Tuesday, January 06, 2004
<Andrew>
Is that really 12 inches of snow outside? And did I really just spend 22 hours straight at work? Yes, and yes, are the answers of the hour....hence the absence of posting for the past couple of days. When things like this crop up though, and you can pull through, it sure does feel good to be alive for a while. What a week. Zzzzzzzzzzzz. </Andrew> <!--1/06/2004 10:21:00 PM-->
Saturday, January 03, 2004
<Andrew>
I don't necessarily think of myself as wicked (in any sense of the word), but there's "no rest for the wicked", as the old saying goes. And so it is that, after a dayshift, straight into a nightshift, then a little sleep and another dayshift, then my radio show, and a little more sleep, there should now be a weekend off. Oh no, I'm just not getting off that easily it would seem. The weather is worsening, snowing a treat, and temperatures are not scheduled to get above freezing again for 2 or 3 days. So I'm having to struggle into work again tonight to cover another night shift, 12 hours this time. I'm just trying to get some food together now, and even that isn't very inspiring, given that the Holidays, and all these extra hours, have meant I haven't been able to get to the shops all week. Never mind. I'll get to it next week I suppose. Though I'm beginning to wonder just what is going to be around the next corner now....
The lyrics to the A Certain Ratio song "All Night Party" have been striking a chord with me lately. "I work all day, I drink all night. My life is just an angry blur". The only difference for me is that often I've been working at night, but so far have drawn the line at drinking all day. For now at least! </Andrew> <!--1/03/2004 05:33:00 PM-->
Friday, January 02, 2004
<Andrew>
As I have to go and do the radio show tonight, and I've pulled out a lot of my favorite things from 2003 to play on it, here for the purposes of idle listmaking and aural bias, are what they were exactly. This is actually stuff that was from 2003 too, as opposed to re-issues, which make up the vast majority of what I've been buying lately for some reason.
Album Broadcast-Ha Ha Sound (Warp)
Stood head and shoulders above the rest of the crowd in this category, by virtue of its craft and consistency. Hardly anything bad can be said about it at all in fact. Indebted to both the BBC Radiophonic Workshop and Young Marble Giants, yet sounds like neither. I have long said that Trish Keenan has the best voice in contemporary pop music, and I continue to stand by that. The fact that this gorgeous voice was laden with effects for this LP, is possibly its only detracting feature. Staggeringly good.
Honorable Mentions:
The Rapture-Echoes (DFA)
Kid Acne & Req One-Council Pop (Invisible Spies)
Adult.-Anxiety Always (Ersatz Audio)
Single Peter Grummich-Squeeze (Auftrieb)
Not a great year for singles was 2003. With dance in decline, and pop/rock having gone all Long Player on us, I bought less singles last year than I have for a very long time. That said, there were still some shiny diamonds to be coveted. Grummich's 12" for the revived Auftrieb imprint (out of the Kompakt stable, from Cologne, Germany), proved that there's plenty of life left in shifting, shuffling minimalism. A frighteningly addictive listen, the title track "Squeeze" has probably received more air time on my radio show than any other tune this year. So simple, so effective, so rightly deserving of the top spot here.
B-sides and other tracks Chungking-Bubble Love (Tummy Touch)
On the B-side of the not-really-that-great single "World Of A Thousand Suns", was this blissed out gem. Not dissimilar to a St. Etienne record at 33 instead of 45, with better vocals, after a few exotic cocktails. So deliriously delicious and laid back, it's on the verge of falling over. Best played when cold and wet outside, so as to provide maximum emotional sunshine. Ah, the new horizontal heroes....
Honorable Mentions:
Franz Ferdinand-Van Tango (Domino)
A J Scent-Pling Plong (Medicine 8 Dub Mix) (Honchos)
So, there you go! Now I suppose I should get back to work. </Andrew> <!--1/02/2004 11:17:00 AM-->
Thursday, January 01, 2004
<Andrew>
It is still a happy New Year. Despite the fact that about an hour after my last post, the telephone rang, and I had to report to work to cover a shift. I had already worked during the day, but somehow staying awake for 28 hours is a little easier to take after a New Year's Eve beer or two (and then some cups of tea to counteract it), and when you're paid by the hour. Yes....tired, but less poor. So I have now just woken up, so that I can hopefully use up enough energy by tonight so I can sleep again for a while, then return to the land of dayshift tomorrow. We shall see. Dark circles under the eyes are not forever. Well, not yet anyway. But in a few years....
It is snowing here in Olympia. The trees in the garden look like something out of a Christmas card. The thing I love about snow, is its sound dampening qualities. I've long be fascinated by how different weather phenomena have an effect on the sound of the world around us. When cars and other objects pass over or through the crunchy white carpet, they sound so muffled and hazy, everything reduced to a low rumble. It's almost like having ear plugs in, but without the sounds of your own body being amplified.
No, I have not updated the blog in a very long time. The reasons for that form a very long story. Some other time perhaps. Suffice to say, my life is very different from the last time I posted. But that was 2003, and something new now fast approaches. This should be the year when I make resolutions then? Well....as I was explaining to a friend at work earlier today (hello Heather), as I've grown older, I've perhaps taken to preferring to live with the status quo, rather than set myself up for what will ultimately be failure. Are there things I could do differently? Aren't there ways I could improve myself, and my life? Yes, of course, too many to mention. To live a life where I can be at least a little excited at the prospect of each new day, to share more of myself with others, and to have them share more of themselves with me, to live a life more filled with happiness, and less with the dual spectres of anxiety and depression. To gain more knowledge of the things that I care about, and to put that knowledge to useful purposes. To post to the blog more! I will try to post to blog more, promise. (Thank you Mindy for noticing. You may be the only person to have ever read it!)
So there's much to hope for in the year ahead. Although, I could be run over by a bus tomorrow. Except actually, I couldn't, because there is no bus service on major holidays in Thurston County. Crap. I guess that means I may have to achieve some of these things. Or get knocked down on Friday instead.
2004 starts tomorrow. Tonight is me, alone in my house, virtually sans furniture, enjoying a chilled bottle of Fish Tale 10th Anniversary Ale just now. And the taste is wonderful. I say again, to one and all, a very Happy New Year. </Andrew> <!--12/31/2003 09:08:00 PM-->
Friday, June 20, 2003
<Andrew>
Alright....the first incarnation of SOUTHDOWN, the free music label I mentioned in the previous post is now starting life right here. Yes, it's monochromatic, and some of the links don't work yet, but I do have to work (nights!) all weekend, and my batteries are getting low. I'm also trying to write an essay on the concept of "free music" for the next KAOS Program Guide/this site, by Thursday, but it's touch and go as to whether or not I'll get it done, as always. It feels so good to have finally found the right way for me to do a label again, after almost 9 years since the last one (Pillarbox Red), and without the constraints of having to sell something, manufacturing, losing money, and feeling disheartened about the response. Just the music now. Music, ideas, love, and the world to share it with. </Andrew> <!--6/20/2003 09:42:00 PM-->
Wednesday, June 18, 2003
<Andrew>
Red, red wine....no, not the UB40 song, the stuff that's $8.50 for 1.5 Litres from Costco (and better than most $25 a bottle stuff for that matter). It tastes good. Feels good too.
Alright, I'm posting to the blog, so something serious must be happening. And, in a way, it is. I'm not going to start work on it tonight (of course), but after weeks (months, years) of contemplation, I have decided that I am going to start a "record label" again. But on the web (how original!). And "copyleft". And with Ogg Vorbis (open source audio codec). And free....as in not just monetarily, but idealistically.
Well, this is just the details. It will happen, and soon. And under the rather wonderful DSL (Design Science License). Watch the website....this is actually exciting enough to get me working on it! </Andrew> <!--6/18/2003 10:03:00 PM-->
Sunday, May 04, 2003
<Andrew>
Oh....by the way, I forgot 2 pieces of big news. Firstly, if you go over to the "Playlists" page, I am going to try this evening to get as many of my playlists from Curious-Blue online, from the beginning of this year onwards. Secondly, Fast Asleep Club, the latest name I'm trying to make music under, have a 3 track MP3 EP available for download from Al Larsen's excellent Property Is Theft site. I hope people will enjoy it, and it is free, after all. Maybe one day, I'll get the music part of this site active, and perhaps even get going with releasing something. </Andrew> <!--5/04/2003 07:47:00 PM-->
<Andrew>
Another rainy Sunday in Olympia. We get plenty of those. It's been another unproductive weekend, and I have a headache. What a great time to add some thoughts to the site! No, no....we'll try to banish the mood. Did the radio show on Friday for the first time in 4 weeks and it went well, which was a plus for me, as it was the first time I'd tried mixing up hardcore experimental and hardcore dancefloor music for a while. I've been more apprehensive about doing that of late, and concentrating more on trying to build progression into the sets (like a 'proper' DJ, which I will never be, so no idea why I even try), but then when I do try it, people are always supportive of it, and appreciate the surprise, which is actually all I ever wanted to do with a radio show. It made me happy anyway, I smiled many times on the 40+ minute walk home from the bus. Plus, there's no shortage of great new records for me to play at the moment, and I always tend to buy more records in my birthday month, by way of a present to myself! Offsetting that, I am now 31, as of 4/19. Not much I can do about that....Anyhow, I shall be trying to write another essay for the site, more specifically about the space between 'dance music' and 'experimental music', and my trying to be comfortable with both. I know that many people into one wouldn't ever dream of listening to the other (especially side-by-side), and that is a challenge. I'll try to pursue this friction, in as many ways as I feel able. I can be lazy. Given the stop/start site here, that's probably not a surprise. Things like FooBilliard don't help. Who would have thought that 3D Pool for Linux could be so addictive? As the computer player sharks me again, and again, and again, and again, and again.... </Andrew> <!--5/04/2003 07:22:00 PM-->
Saturday, April 26, 2003
<Andrew>
I'm still alive!! I've updated the site for the first time in absolutely ages!! I will even try to keep it updated now! You've heard it all before, I know....must do better. </Andrew> <!--4/26/2003 01:53:00 AM-->
Saturday, August 17, 2002
<Andrew>
No update for quite a while, sorry. I have been putting the radio show playlists up though, and so I hope at least one soul wandering through the yawning caverns of the Internet has bothered to look at them. But, perhaps not. I've been working a lot, and haven't been feeling too well, or sane, for the last couple of weeks, all of which explain the lack of input here really. On the air at KAOS last night, I just felt deranged. I seem to be very dizzy and clumsy, having terrible headaches, and I'm not sleeping at all well, which is nothing new, but the warm weather of the last few weeks, however nice, doesn't really help me out there. Oh well....
One thing that I have done, a couple of weeks ago now, is book the flights for my next trip back home to England. There's a few firsts about this one too. I'm flying with Scandinavian Air Services for one, via Copenhagen for another. I've never been to Denmark before, and although I'll only spend a few fleeting hours on the ground there, and even then in an airport terminal, I feel a little excited about it. Another new place to add to life's list. I feel excited about the whole trip in general, in fact. I always do really. Going home and seeing my family is never anything less than comforting, and relaxing. It's reassuring to see that everything is still there. So come November, it's back to wandering around Hove, Brighton, and London again, for a little while at least.
And, after some negotiating (in English, thankfully), my Juan Hidalgo book arrived from Spain, and in only 3 days too, via TNT/Airborne Express. It is quite something to behold. To give a very brief description, you could say it was somewhat the literary equivalent of a long piece of music, exquisitely pieced together from small samples and fragments, some of which are repeated, some slightly altered, and others used only once. I managed to round up some of the Alga Marghen "VocSon" series of LP's too, via the esteemed folks at These Records (quite the most secretive, and one of the most enjoyable, record shopping experiences you can have in London). Sadly though, I missed out on purchasing a couple of early Jose Luis Castillejo books....somebody else beat me to it. On the one hand, perhaps it's a relief, because they were pretty expensive. But on the other, when am I going to have the chance to buy copies of these again? They were even signed first editions. Of course, anything can happen, and it usually does. I could find one in the street tomorrow. No harm in hoping! One consolation though, is that I found an excellent interview with Castillejo, on the website of Radio Canada. It's in French, but many of the search engines now have scripting that allow you to translate text, usually in fairly small chunks. They work pretty well, though you sometimes have to do some slight rearranging of the words in the English output.
People occasionally notice that I'm very good at beating myself up, and that I do it farily often. While I always appreciate their concern for me, ultimately, it doesn't stop it from happening. I'll learn something, one of these days. </Andrew> <!--8/17/2002 10:40:00 PM-->
Sunday, July 28, 2002
<Andrew>
It's been a few days since I added a post...time just seems to be slipping away from me, and this slipping of time seems to be becoming more of a feature in my life really. People warned me this is what it would be like as I got older. I just wasn't expecting the onset to be so rapid really.
Over the past few days, aside from working some funny shifts, and some overtime (which always helps pay the bills and expand the libraries), I've been looking up bits and pieces on the web, and looking through some of my books, for information on my 2 latest obsessions, Sound Poetry (not entirely a new one, this), and the Spanish art/action group ZAJ. And the thing of it is, there seems to be precious little information out there about either of them, particularly in English (not that language should act as a privilege).
Sound Poetry has come to the fore in my mind again, due to the recent reissue of the complete recordings from Henri Chopin's 60's/70's periodical "revue OU", by the excellent Italian label, Alga Marghen. The 4CD box set comes complete with a 70 page book of documentation and essays, mostly from Chopin himself, with English and French text, and also reprints of the entire series of posters/booklets/inserts that ever came with the magazine (some 32 of them!). In itself, it's an embarrassment of riches, and a model of how reissues of archive material of this kind should be carried out. And the range of the material across the CD's is fantastic, with all of the major figures represented (Chopin, Heidsieck, Cobbing, Gysin, De Vree, Novak, Burroughs, and many more). But as the initial scratch to an itch....what else can one grab within reach to scratch with? With Henri Chopin having been the overseer of all of the selections here, and the book being filled with his deliberations on this art form, it very much forms the opinion, and viewpoint, of one person. Though in all fairness to Chopin, he has cast the net admirably wide, shown very little editorial bias then or now, and is probably the most devoted practitioner in this field anyway. I just wish there was more for the English-speaking listener/reader to behold, and to learn and enrich themselves from. Nonetheless, there's nothing to complain about here whatsoever. This is one excitement inducing objet d'art, which would look cooler on your record shelf than an iceberg. And it won't melt later on either. On the internet, there's the ever-excellent UbuWeb, of course, then voyaging into the deep dark forest of Google with nothing more than one lit match to light the way, and another unlit one to hack at the foliage with. Or, by way of a choice of torture, you can have heart failure at the prices of original texts and documents at AbeBooks.
As far as ZAJ goes, like all good experimental/avant garde art and music, it barely even seems to exist in the modern (English-speaking) world. I've always been excited by the spirit of early Experimental Music (Cage, Cardew and the Scratch Orchestra, Tudor, Sonic Arts Union, Kosugi, etc.), and also of Fluxus, and action-art, although before a few weeks ago, I barely knew anything about ZAJ myself (though I knew a little about composer Walter Marchetti, one of the members of the group). ZAJ was formed in Spain in 1964, as a very anarchic music and performance collective, by Juan Hidalgo, Walter Marchetti, and Ramon Barce, later joined by others including Jose Luis Castillejo, and Esther Ferrer. They operated very much under the influence of Cage (with whom they had crossed paths several times since the late 1950's), and of Fluxus, but independently of them. Their activities were widespread, including putting on festivals and concerts of their own, as well as performing at the request of many others around the world, and producing experimental texts and artists' books. No records, or other sonic documentation appeared by any members of the group, until the mid-70's saw the release of albums by Marchetti, and Hidalgo, as part of the (now legendary) 'Nova Musicha' series, on the Italian Cramps label (some of which have recently been reissued on vinyl by Get Back). ZAJ received a retrospective exhibition in 1996, at the Museo Nacional Centro de Arte Reina Sofia, in Madrid, but outside of Spain, and Italy (although the other members of the group were all Spanish, Marchetti is Italian), they have rarely been documented or exhibited. As I mentioned above, there seems to be very little written information about them, except by the members themselves, and then mainly in their own languages. There was a brief "ZAJ Sampler", of manifestos, scores, and actions ('Etceteras' as the group called them), published as a Great Bear pamphlet, by Dick Higgins' Something Else Press, in 1967. But that's another 'find-it-if-you're-very-quick-very-lucky-and-very-rich' item I'm afraid. But even that may seem abundant, cheap, and plentiful, compared to the few books, and other items, that ZAJ themselves published in the 60's/70's. Digging around on the page of a Spanish bookshop (barely picked out among the seething undergrowth of the Google jungle), I did manage to locate myself a copy of the 1992 facsimile edition of Juan Hidalgo's seminal 1967 ZAJ book, "Viaje a Argel" ("Voyage to Algiers", based around the experiences of a journey there, to visit Castillejo and his wife), noted as one of the foundations of the artists book in Spain....and for precious little money, thankfully (the shipping is twice as much as the book itself!). That said, the order hasn't been confirmed yet, and I hope they understand a little English (a little more than I do Spanish anyhow). I tried to keep things simple. I have managed to unearth a couple of wonderful web-based bits and bobs on ZAJ, one lot located at the Universidad de Castilla La Mancha, in Spain, as part of their excellent Artesonoro archive, where there's even sound samples/MP3's/video clips to check out, and another at the Neues Museum Weserburg, in Bremen, Germany, as part of an exhibition that took place there of Spanish artists' books, called "Printed in Spain". The Alga Marghen label features here again also, as they have put out a few ZAJ related items over the past few years, including some mind-blowingly minimalist books by Jose Luis Castillejo, and an album with a rendition of a Hidalgo-authored vocal piece, "Una Voz".
So, basically, that's been it. It's all very exciting for me, if a little frustrating. But then isn't the internet like that? And life for that matter? This, the world around me, and some quality techno, and funky house. Maybe a glass of wine to go with that, or some Imperial Stout. Mmmm. Now you're talking.....
</Andrew> <!--7/28/2002 09:50:00 PM-->
Tuesday, July 23, 2002
<Andrew>
Temper, temper...let's try again. Beer quaffed, washing folded, etc. I've had time to calm down a bit basically.
I wanted to pass along some info on 2 bootleg/cut-up related CD releases I think you'd do well to welcome in your homes and lives. Love it, or hate it, the 'bootleg' phenomena appears to be a logical progression for music, particularly given the technological, financial, and social state of the world at the present time, and the corruption, and possibilities for corruption, that lay within it. Plus, it also seems to me to be the most evident and exciting manifestation of the 'punk' ethic that I can see/hear anywhere at the moment.
Firstly, there's Cassetteboy (bless him), with his debut CD release, "The Parker Tapes". It's a wickedly dark-humoured collection of cut-and-massage-and-paste tracks (98 of them!), mostly extracted from snippets of a TV/radio/music origin. No sacred cow is left unslaughtered, and most are left to slowly decay, wallowing in their own filth, 'gainst a tide of your chuckles, giggles, and guffaws. It's terribly hard to not give away some of the funnier moments, but I don't want to spoil it for anyone. Some of the gags may go over the heads of the non-British listener, and horrify the more politically correct individual, but it's the overall tone of the disc that hammers the stamp of quality home, not to mention Cassetteboy's often amazing sleight of hand (or should that be pause button?). It's on Barry's Bootlegs, an off-shoot (not that they'd admit to it mind) of the Brighton based Spymania label. According to their website, it's out on August 5th, but I bought my copy at Rough Trade while I was over in the U.K. visiting my family, in the 2nd week of June, and they appear to be selling it online. As do Warp, via their WarpMart shop. I've been caning this on Curious-Blue since I got back to the US. What I can play under the FCC's despicable 'language' rules that is.
Secondly, there's a CD out from the website that's become the veritable clearinghouse for anything remotely bootleg related, and ultimate pinnacle of audio (goldmine) trash, BoomSelection. But it's a lot more than just another compilation CD. In fact it's 3 CD's. But even that is missing the point.....it's 3 MP3 CD's, containing a staggering 42 hours of music (yes, I typed HOURS!). Basically, it's a complete document of just about everything that has passed through, by, or provided inspiration for their site, and the many producers who helped to birth the current explosion. All of the key players are represented (Osymyso, Freelance Hellraiser, Frenchbloke and Son, Jacknife Lee, Richard X, and many more), with just about everything they've ever released/uploaded/created up to this point. To call it anything less than a definitive statement on the concept/genre would be ridiculous. To not buy it, especially given the pricing ($22/14 Pounds/22 Euros), would be insane. Don't worry about the 'bandwagon', the music press, or your bank balance, this probably won't be around for long (for obvious reasons), so don't miss it. It's just become available to buy direct over the web, via Paypal, from HERE. I've just ordered 3 of the blighters, and may well give a set away on the show at some point in the future, should a storm of generosity blow in along the coast of my diseased soul.
Damn it....I just spent an hour typing out a post for this thing, and when I went to submit it, Blogger went and lost the whole thing. So now I have to try and remember it while being simultaneously completely pissed off, and drinking a bottle of Deschutes Obsidian Stout, chilled to point of perfection, in this unseasonal 90 degree heat. Next time, I cut and paste into WordPad first.
Alright...trying to set up a weblog for the site, as a common thread for it perhaps, or a central feature. Just because it's easy, free, and...well, no other reasons should be needed after those 2 should they? </Andrew> <!--7/22/2002 12:02:00 AM-->
Smashed, blocked....Richardson meets Mother Nature - Uptown. All quiet inna Eastside, seen? </Andrew> <!--12/18/2006 07:08:00 PM-->
Clayton Way. The End. March 15th, 1973 - December 18th, 2006. 33 years, 9 months, and 3 days of memories.... </Andrew> <!--12/18/2006 06:44:00 PM-->
</Andrew> <!--10/01/2006 02:09:00 PM-->
Computer - heal thyself....if only. Slowly but surely, it is getting on the right side of normal though. Which is probably more than I should say for myself at the moment. It's been too hot to do just about anything else, these past few days. It's at times like this that you realise it's called "unseasonal" heat for a reason - because there's no season it should belong in. I added some new links over at my del.icio.us page a few days ago - all of which are worthy of your attention. The cavernous oceans of European post-punk/new wave/industrial musical miscellany have been my main preoccupation over the past few weeks....that and the usual geographic ephemera and cultural off-cuts. There are lines that join the dots, fragments of maps and documents, slowly being pulled together. Such is my research - and its stop/start, disjointed nature. I'm not saying it's ever going to amount to anything (and many may say it's worthless on paper), but that's not the point. If the radio show does end soon, which it's looking increasingly likely it will, I intend to use the opportunity to take some other things further - further writing, further music, further research. For every great piece of music you heard, book you read, film you saw, website you visited - there's hundreds, thousands, we don't even know about yet. So I sit at my desk, perspire lightly, and pretend to be Vasco da Gama....no matter your destination, you won't get there without making a journey. </Andrew> <!--7/25/2006 09:05:00 PM-->
Another year older today - and it feels completely fine so far, to be honest. I'm not at the point where I'm really looking at my age and thinking, "Where did the years go?" yet. That is something I do from time to time, but age doesn't really have anything into it....
Just back from Atlanta, late last night, where I've been attending a conference, and generally wandering about, for the past few days. Full write up to follow - but here's a picture of Midtown to be going on with (from one of the sunny days - it was mostly cloudy, and at times downright stormy). Anyhow, I now have to go and get ready for the radio show tonight, though frankly, I'd rather be catching up on a little rest! </Andrew> <!--3/25/2006 12:45:00 PM-->
