on my bolg playlist:
the story of the first time i heard numb by portishead and as a result almost fell out of a hammock onto the deck of a thirty foot fishing trawler
Friday, March 27, 2009
Monday, March 23, 2009
need to get into the habit of doing this regularly. like, a healthy thing that you do in the beginning not necessarily because you want to, but because it is good for you, and then you reap the manifold rewards and walk around smiling beatificallly. a bit like a modern version of eating all- bran or something.
things i plan to write about, soon, when i have more than five minutes in the library;
'a little knowledge' by scritti politti, and- like in the last post- the bittersweet sensation that comes from listening to a song that sort of taught you what adult emotions were going to feel like before you ever experienced them.
'the year of the sex olympics', and tony vogel's astonishing performance in it, and how odd it was to watch it on the day jade goody died.
thirtyseven seconds! off i pop.
things i plan to write about, soon, when i have more than five minutes in the library;
'a little knowledge' by scritti politti, and- like in the last post- the bittersweet sensation that comes from listening to a song that sort of taught you what adult emotions were going to feel like before you ever experienced them.
'the year of the sex olympics', and tony vogel's astonishing performance in it, and how odd it was to watch it on the day jade goody died.
thirtyseven seconds! off i pop.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
love hangover by diana ross
http://open.spotify.com/track/0BX0eq3SXW4jeZmQ271CpE
you know when youre ten and you fall in love with a song and you dont know why its so awesome because its about fucking and you have no concept of what that might mean but you love the record anyway and then youre 33 and you listen to the song in question and kind of giggle to yourself? yeah.
you know when youre ten and you fall in love with a song and you dont know why its so awesome because its about fucking and you have no concept of what that might mean but you love the record anyway and then youre 33 and you listen to the song in question and kind of giggle to yourself? yeah.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
still havent bought a new mp3 player. but thats okay. (jesus, this keyboard is filthy! really, seriously, disgusting. my kingdom for a wiggydigger. do you know what a wiggydigger is? its the rooney family term for a cotton bud. i would ask you for your obscure family terms for things in the comments field but it could turn out awfie, like seriously sub- home truths. and this is not the place for that sort of malarky! this is supposed to be a blog about music but written in a sort of tangential, vaguely chris nieratko type style of thing. thats what its supposed to be. hummmm.... is sub- chris nieratko better than sub- home truths? YOU DECIDE.)
anyway. so i might as well chatter aimlessly about what i have been queueing on spotify until i get another mp3 player. i can only do this once a week because i cant download spotify at the library because the library is SHIT. not really, the library is awesome: it mostly smells of books, only rarely smells of homeless- man's- anus, and if youre prepared to wait upwards of five weeks you can rent the whole first season box set of the wire for a whole week for TWO POUNDS. oh! johnathan from spotify is talking to me! he sounds nice.... GATHER, ALICE. GATHER.
the first tune i downloaded today on spotify was breathe and stop by q- tip (http://open.spotify.com/track/5tDKp4F8QcpmWxbV8rutvh), because miranda sawyer mentioned it in her article about said music streaming software in the omm this month and i was like, oh, bullseye that lady. but then i was listening to it it made me want to be dancing so badly that i actually thought i might do a little weep out of my eyes. so i stopped it and listened to something a bit more maudlin so that i could utilise the emotion produced by the not- having-danced- to- hip- hop- recently- enough. i chose The Dolphins by Fred Neill (http://open.spotify.com/track/6vheXD5oByaEuoxfNTXGP6) which reminds me of two things; number one, obviously, one of my favourite sequences in the whole of the sopranos- when christopher relapses on smack at the saint's day festival and and flails around on benches and crawls around in alleyways making friends with stray dogs and all the time in the background are the beautiful technicolour tracer lights of the fairground rides and this beautiful wooziness. its just televisual perfection.
but then also it reminds me of being in charleston south carolina in 1993. we had just been to the MOST SPECTACULAR THRIFT SHOP IN THE HISTORY OF THE WORLD. it was this two story house, surrounded by trees covered in tree hair- i dont know what that stuff is called, its a sort of fungus and hangs off the branches of trees in the deep south- and surrounded by a huge wall. it had a PORCH, yo. and you walked up the stairs and onto the porch and into this shadowy old house full and full of racks of clothes. there were about three racks of 1920s tea dresses for like $40. there were four rooms downstairs, and that was the 1920's- 1950's section of the shop. oh christ. if i hadnt had the rest of my family with me at the time i could, sixteen years later, tell myself that i imagined the whole thing, or that it was perhaps a particularly fevered dream. and then you went upstairs and there was all the 60s and 70s stuff, which was slightly less awe- inspiring and also the rooms werent quite as over- shadowed by the trees and the whole atmos wasnt quite as dust- motes- floating- in- sunbeams- through- smudgy- windows- ish. it was just a glimpse into heaven. we went back two years later and theyd moved into a really boring shop in a mall and there were no motes floating in sunbeams and it was a complete disappointment. anyway, so after the most amazing thrift in the world we went down to the seafront, which wasnt particularly exciting until my sister noticed a school of dolphins jumping around merrily about half a mile out to sea. so we were shouting 'dolphins! dolphins!' and then the group of african- american ladies on the bench next to us were shouting 'dolphins! dolphins!' and the dolphins were jumping about with their dorsal fins and stuff and the sun was shining and i started singing 'dolphins' to myself very quietly as the sun shone on my head. and then we went to a little bar near a creek and i saw moe tucker from the velvet underground drinking herbal tea. all in all, it was a bit of a day.
anyway. so i might as well chatter aimlessly about what i have been queueing on spotify until i get another mp3 player. i can only do this once a week because i cant download spotify at the library because the library is SHIT. not really, the library is awesome: it mostly smells of books, only rarely smells of homeless- man's- anus, and if youre prepared to wait upwards of five weeks you can rent the whole first season box set of the wire for a whole week for TWO POUNDS. oh! johnathan from spotify is talking to me! he sounds nice.... GATHER, ALICE. GATHER.
the first tune i downloaded today on spotify was breathe and stop by q- tip (http://open.spotify.com/track/5tDKp4F8QcpmWxbV8rutvh), because miranda sawyer mentioned it in her article about said music streaming software in the omm this month and i was like, oh, bullseye that lady. but then i was listening to it it made me want to be dancing so badly that i actually thought i might do a little weep out of my eyes. so i stopped it and listened to something a bit more maudlin so that i could utilise the emotion produced by the not- having-danced- to- hip- hop- recently- enough. i chose The Dolphins by Fred Neill (http://open.spotify.com/track/6vheXD5oByaEuoxfNTXGP6) which reminds me of two things; number one, obviously, one of my favourite sequences in the whole of the sopranos- when christopher relapses on smack at the saint's day festival and and flails around on benches and crawls around in alleyways making friends with stray dogs and all the time in the background are the beautiful technicolour tracer lights of the fairground rides and this beautiful wooziness. its just televisual perfection.
but then also it reminds me of being in charleston south carolina in 1993. we had just been to the MOST SPECTACULAR THRIFT SHOP IN THE HISTORY OF THE WORLD. it was this two story house, surrounded by trees covered in tree hair- i dont know what that stuff is called, its a sort of fungus and hangs off the branches of trees in the deep south- and surrounded by a huge wall. it had a PORCH, yo. and you walked up the stairs and onto the porch and into this shadowy old house full and full of racks of clothes. there were about three racks of 1920s tea dresses for like $40. there were four rooms downstairs, and that was the 1920's- 1950's section of the shop. oh christ. if i hadnt had the rest of my family with me at the time i could, sixteen years later, tell myself that i imagined the whole thing, or that it was perhaps a particularly fevered dream. and then you went upstairs and there was all the 60s and 70s stuff, which was slightly less awe- inspiring and also the rooms werent quite as over- shadowed by the trees and the whole atmos wasnt quite as dust- motes- floating- in- sunbeams- through- smudgy- windows- ish. it was just a glimpse into heaven. we went back two years later and theyd moved into a really boring shop in a mall and there were no motes floating in sunbeams and it was a complete disappointment. anyway, so after the most amazing thrift in the world we went down to the seafront, which wasnt particularly exciting until my sister noticed a school of dolphins jumping around merrily about half a mile out to sea. so we were shouting 'dolphins! dolphins!' and then the group of african- american ladies on the bench next to us were shouting 'dolphins! dolphins!' and the dolphins were jumping about with their dorsal fins and stuff and the sun was shining and i started singing 'dolphins' to myself very quietly as the sun shone on my head. and then we went to a little bar near a creek and i saw moe tucker from the velvet underground drinking herbal tea. all in all, it was a bit of a day.
Monday, January 12, 2009
and i was enjoying myself so much!
plugged the diddy machine into a macbook, even though that isnt strictly recommended by anyone at all, ever. owner of macbook had 'hey ya' and 'muleskinner blues' and 'stand and deliver' on his i- tunes, and i needed said songs on the diddy machine so i could one day write about them on this blog. whaddyagonnado? forgive them for they know not what they do, etc. anyway so the upshot is, the diddy machine is DEAD. half of the songs on it disappeared into the ether, my pc refuses to acknowledge it, i reset it and now it has no music on it and i cant put any more music on it because the pc is all like 'yeah, you went with one of those mac sluts even though everyone said you werent compatible, and the slut stole your music and now you want me to get with you and deal with your sloppy macbook seconds? OH NO NO NO, BRO. THATS NOT HAPPENING. speak to the hand, because the face is not listening, etc'. i am distraught.
so anyway, im going to carry on as if i am turning on the diddy machine and hearing the first song and writing about it, even though i am patently not, because the diddy machine is DEAD DEAD DEAD. but lets pretend that i havent told you that. lets pretend that the pathetic conceit on which this blog is based has not collapsed like a deck of fucking cards just because i do not understand the true import of the phrase 'not compatible'. lets pretend that. please.
so anyway, im going to carry on as if i am turning on the diddy machine and hearing the first song and writing about it, even though i am patently not, because the diddy machine is DEAD DEAD DEAD. but lets pretend that i havent told you that. lets pretend that the pathetic conceit on which this blog is based has not collapsed like a deck of fucking cards just because i do not understand the true import of the phrase 'not compatible'. lets pretend that. please.
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