Sunday May 26th 2013, 11:39 pm
Filed under: Boozy,change,inner-polish-teenage-girl,memory,nostalgia,reminiscence,scooters,seasonal,whatsnext Tags:

Or, as The Bird and the Bee would have it, again and again and again and again / do it again. Nina Simone playing in the background, a nod to the same coming of age/romance films that have occasioned alarmingly much of the little writing found here in the last handful of years, 1995, 2004, and the latest before movie on the docket for tomorrow. For all of the ways in which I don’t want to live here, I’m rather reliant upon being able to see such films upon demand, before release, or to go see Joss talk after a screening of his latest. Entitlement meets indifference, sprezzatura meets traffic, soul meets mate. “Unexcited”, the cover of the nyt magazine reads (though, apparently, according to yctnw, it’s a matter of female sexual desire / drugs for same in one’s 50s+. I had thought it was a larger ennui / late life boredom issue. Which I suppose it is, in some ways – things not working? Things not exciting? Take drugs.) Anyway_s_, he said, with a nod to the boy who is now a young man who should really call his bloody mother, these damn movies. A student, a few years ago, talking about growing up the same age as Harry Potter, identifying beyond protagonist to deeper transitions and dilemmas of self. And these movies, I think, broadly appealing similarly – what it is to be young and in love, 32 and both in love and not in love and somewhat successful but not done, and above all being not 23. And, tomorrow, though I’ve assiduously avoided spoilers, to the point of reading no press or interviews or previews or even adjacent press on the matter, the 7-up for my romantic soul, the self that wrote, with the dark and biter passion of 18, “love, and I wish I could say always, but we both know it can’t be so” (or something vaguely similar. I’d have no ask her to dig the copy of R&G off her bookshelf and read me the ?incriminating? inscription), though I can’t remember seeing either film in the theatre, to the point of rather wondering if I did, or if it was blurry VHS and second run at the Sunshine or the Angelika. So with new 88 keys and hours of music made in the last few days, we’ll go see tomorrow if it resonates then as it has resonated for so long, whether they have something to say beyond what I’ve known, or are just a travel-porn version of lives i actually have lived. Or something.

Saturday May 25th 2013, 11:14 pm
Filed under: Boozy,memory,Music,nostalgia Tags:

Apparently I didn’t rip the whole disc, just the one track. “Canaan”, by tomandandy, also sometimes known as Tom&Andy, and various other permutations with capitals letters, spaces, and punctuation. The soundtrack version, “Farewell my friends, I’m bound for Canaan / I’m travelling through the wilderness / Your company has been delightful / you who doth lead my mind distressed.” Or something, several octaves lower and with a male singer as against the female singer of the movie credits. Hmm. (On a motorcycle through Arizona and Utah, it became “bound for Kanab”, an inside joke that you had to be there for, really.) Apparently the rest of the early/mid-90s techno/world (think Womad with a beat) soundtrack wasn’t worth ripping, back when ripping was slower than listening, and CDs still ruled the land. A viewing of the first of the Befores this evening, as well, in anticipation of the viewing the last. And, by my side, 88 fucking keys. Something closer to what I imagined when I walked in to the music shop on the Cowley Road less than 24 hours after seeing 6×07 for the first time and bought a synthesizer rather than a television, a thing with which to create rather than consume. No research, no comparison beyond what was in the shop, no thought of spending time on the internet to make sure I got the right one. And 61 synth-action keys that would both charm and disappoint me for a fucking decade plus. 6×07 aired in 2001, so I suspect my visit to Ravenscourt Park is not long after, give or take. And now, some ?12 years later, a replacement keyboard for the 4 or 500 quid I spent with the greatest of sombre intent, and yet the innocence of intention unresearched and unrefined. 88 keys. Piano action. High notes and low notes and gigabytes of unlooped samples. Now all I need is lessons. I don’t want the 90s back, or the zippered/stepped filter sweeps of the Zoe soundtrack, nor would I ever name a daughter Zoe, knowing it could only end wildchild, but a baby (year!) in the grass yesterday, and a baby-ish boy now 21 and finishing college soon, the chance to put my thoughts into notes and my heart into notes and my fingers into the rigour that precludes thoughts, I wonder. In particular and in general, a tenure present to myself, I wonder what I will create with this that I didn’t the last time I resolved I wanted to create and not consume. Lineage, I believe, numbed most of it. Too busy, not ideal, not in the right space, not despondent, not 27 again (thank god). So I play scales and combis and learn the Korg speak, and spell things in the English spelling despite having been gone for many more years than I was there, and I wonder.

Saturday May 18th 2013, 11:11 pm
Filed under: Miscellaneous, Truly Tags:

I get paid to talk shit, these days. I wonder if that’s part of the falling off that was TPT. Saw gatsby. Talked shit, in person, about Gatsby. Still thinking about Gatsby. Going to bed.

ad out
Thursday May 16th 2013, 9:47 pm
Filed under: Miscellaneous, Truly Tags:

You mock my poodle, I call the cops while you tag my street corner. I’m assuming, all in all, ad out.