Sunday, 13 February 2011

Happy Monday


Would of course to be the first to admit that Valentines expectations have been coloured by slideshow of memorable moments and characters in books and films. The scene in Love Actually will never happen.

Nevertheless, a very considered playlist for all your romantic needs or otherwise:

Into something Good- 5 Ultimate Love Songs.

5. Sweet Thing- Van Morrison

4. Light My Fire- Jose Felicanio

3. Fell In Love With a Girl- The White Stripes.

2. I’ve Been Loving You Too Long- Otis Redding.

1. Layla- Eric Clapton.

Love Will Tear Us Apart- 5 Anti-Lovesongs

5. Drown- Smashing Pumpkins.

4. New Romantic- Laura Marling

3. Heard It Through the Grapevine- Marvin Gaye

2. Who Is He and What Is He to You?- Bill Withers

1. Can’t Stand Me Now- The Libertines.

Don’t Stop- 5 Songs of Blissful Infatuation

5. Sexy Boy- Air

4. Crazy On You- Heart

3. You Really Got Me- The Kinks

2. Add It Up- The Violent Femmes

1. Since I’ve Been Loving You- Led Zeppelin

Friday, 4 February 2011

Cream of the Crop


Re-reading some old journal entries the other day and thought they would make for an amusing post. Some of the better extracts but unfortunately not the best. My dairies can often range from mildly offensive to down right awful so had to be selective.

Friday 1st of January 2010, 9:17pm
‘The world if full of people trying to convince other people to dance-I REALLY don’t want to dance’
Thank you David Mitchell.

Sunday 3rd of January 2010, 10:40pm
The fact that I am consecutively recording in this ( and that tonight I’ve taken to bed to write it just shy of 11pm) is testament to the fact that that absolutely NOTHING is going on in my life- yet to make it over the front door.

Wednesday 6th of January, 2010, 10:20pm
Was doing some drawing today and was burning a candle on the table so I could use the wax. I was leaning right over my sketchbook and heard and smelt burning only to look up at the mirror in front of me and notice an ignited flame on my head. Mairi had to put it out with her bare hands. I just screamed. If straighteners haven't damaged my hair enough this should do the trick.

Thursday 14th of January 2010, 1:12pm
Writing with my new pen, the last in eca shop. The word must have spread of their smooth rolling. . .
Made this morning’s lecture at ten past eleven. The weather is so miserable –sleet snow and dull-completely shitty and mood destroying. We are learning about ‘celtic’ art now, though we’re not supposed to label it that academically. What we’re actually meant to call it however escapes me now.
Asked Mark to ring me but said he wouldn’t pause the film he was watching, assured me he’d ring at one. Just checked his phone and it’s off. Going to send a semi-abusive text before bed.

Friday 15th of Janurary 2010, 3:00pm, Starbucks, Forrest Road.
In Starbucks having lunch, drinking one of their sickening luke-warm lattes instead of their fag-ash Americano’s. Still, at least its close by.
There was a nice looking boy behind the counter a while back. I swear we had a connection. Spent a long time sitting wondering how you act on these things and whether you just spend your whole life watching nice boys who work in coffee shops hoping they’ll say something. I think people only talk to each other in films.

Thursday 21st of January, 2010. 1:12pm
Is there any room for creative little dwindlers in today’s financial climate? I’m such a scrape through I’ll never shine- absolutely dreading Classics results and seriously considering just never picking up my essay. Didn’t pick up my Architecture one last year having lost ten marks referencing Wikipedia. Fuck. It’s at best heavy plagiarized or at worst just a bloody fail. Trying very hard not to think about it.

Sunday 24th of January 2010, 00:51am
Got in and spoke to my Father who had enjoyed his night in Town and had even liked the company of Neil and his friend Hugh who was in a relatively acclaimed Velvet Underground tribute band in the 80’s ( Hugh Reid and the Velvet Underpants). Didn’t bother trying to stifle a laugh.

Tuesday 26th of January 2010, 00:25 am
Feedback from Colin. Said I need to start habitually recording things in my sketchbook but then got on to talking about John Martyn and disappeared to burn me a CD . Maybe I should re-think all this stuff. I remember the most trivial facts about songs but nothing whatsoever about The Book Of Kells.

Sunday 15th of August, 2010 23:50pm.
Bedroom, Aix en Provence.
This place is really amazing. The people are different here- effortless, cool. Watched some Mark Ronson look a like in the flat across earlier. We heard him frolicking with his girlfriend on the sofa.They were tickling and wrestling in their perfect Mezzanine apartment in only their underwear. Watched him smoke a cigarette at the window for ages. Id like a mezzanine.

Tuesday 27th if Sepetember 2010, 01:12am, Flat Bedroom
My Father took Hamish on walk up the hill this morning, but Hamish, afraid of the prospect of returning to the car hid meaning he had to rapidly run through and across fields trying to find him. He apparently got too ambitious and tried to leap over an electric fence only to get caught mid way and shock himself. My Mother said Hamish ran home but that she heard my Father cursing from the hills. His relationship with Hamish remains largely ambiguous.

Friday 24th December, 2010, Christmas Eve, 18:33pm, Mairi’s Bedroom.
Listening to John Martyn, admittedly a little drink and feeling a bit weird.
My Father picked me up at 12 and we went to Waitrose to experience what can only be described as polite, middle class hysteria. Everyone was doing little shuffle runs to grab the last of the Brandy cream. Meant to be going to the crown with Samantha in an hour. Can’t be bothered with Biggar and all it brings.

Wednesday 5th of January 2011, 2:23pm, The Henderson Gallery, Hanover Street
Ended up going to visit John last night. His flat is huge with the faint odor of weed. His flatmates worry and argue about who’s had sex in who’s bed and haven’t managed to change the sheets. A far cry from the milk politics of my own domain. Good night though. I drank a bottle of wine and listened to Rory Gallagher, The White Stripes and Van Morrisson amongst others while John smoked three joints and then insisted on driving me home. His music knowledge shows no limits. It was refreshing. Stopped drinking when I started sounding like some unappreciated scholar.

Tuesday 31st of January 2011, 14:23pm, Studio C7
Tried to look nonchalant and casual, avoiding any direct contact, scribbling details in my notebook. He probably saw me looking shifty though. Could have smiled or made eye contact in a very mature way as i walked by but instead resigned to an awkward ground stare, going back to my desk like an embarrassed child. I’m a social cripple.
College has turned into the feeling of going to a party in the hope of seeing someone only to realize upon arrival that they definitely aren’t coming. And this is everyday. Need to focus.

Saturday 8th of January, 2011, 23:27pm, Bedroom
Text from Rory, he's just back from Arizona.-' Yeah woke up at dusk today, which I've got to say is a real downer- I'm sleeping like 18 hours a day . . . It's ridiculous. I think i read Matthew Perry was on painkillers and then he got fat when he came off them. Ha. One exam on Friday, so can't be bothered. You're right, January is shit. I look forward to hearing you're new stories though, I'm going to go ahead and assume you've self-sabotaged again? '. Own social slip-ups have become predictable.





Wednesday, 2 February 2011

Music Does it Better

I’ve spent alot of time getting to know my iTunes. Scrolling through old playlists is like replaying poignant moments in your head to the appropriate soundtrack you deemed fitting at the time. When things get bad, we can find comfort in angry anthems of love and loss; misanthropic love songs for the shunted. Alternatively, we rejoice over climactic anthems of happiness or brood over crippling ballads of angst- soaking up our self-indulgent misery like a long deep bath.
I’ve kept countless half finished diaries over the years but nothing quite gets me like an old aptly named playlist or scratched CD crafted by a now old acquaintance . A friend of mine tells me songs ARE times and people; romanticizing a past- provoking you in the heat of the moment to abandon all misgivings and do something questionable. Not unlike the very specific moment following three glasses of wine, slightly giddy with promise, leaving only the morning to regret the now embarrassing, often slightly ridiculous text you sent to said friend the night before.
Naturally, we’ve all got problems with certain artists or songs which for some reason offend us. Another friend of mine has difficulty with the relatively middle-of - road-haven’t-really-affected-anyone band The Feeling and in particular their 2008 hit ‘I Love It When You Call’. Having considered her reasoning, siting the song as thoughtless with ‘nothing of note to say’, it becomes clear to me that Tricia has never fallen asleep in the small hours clutching her phone awaiting some happy vibrations. I don’t need searing guitar solos and layered crescendo's to get me going.’ I love it when you call but you never call but you never call at all.’ Christ, this song is almost biblical.
On a more serious note, the song ‘Back To The Old House’, by The Smiths really gets me. When Johnny Marr plucks the first few notes I couldn't describe it if i tried. Why can songs make us happy and sad and thoughtful and dangerous sometimes all at once- the idea that something has that power is frankly frightening. They can get you wound up or cut you down, transcend intellectual and cultural barriers. A girl I knew broke up with her boyfriend with Rage Against the Machine blaring on her headphones- the apt soundtrack to her anger. Bastard. That same girl took the idiot back when he left Al Green’s ‘Let’s Stay Together’ on her answering machine, having sickened herself on ballads of regret during the three week interim. ‘ What came first the music or the misery?’ said once a great fictional hero. And wasn’t he right.
Because as I move towards the end of my degree I wonder why art can scare me in such a worrying way, but music never can. Why a Damien Hurst definitely won’t sway me, but a particularly effective chord change might. Or why I question the integrity behind Post-Mordernism , but never the unadulterated beauty of an acoustic guitar. It raises some questions . Research suggests that the a best loved guitar riff can trigger the same chemical reaction as great food, feelings of love or even sex. ( I’ve personally always found the blues infinitely erotic). I think about Van Morrison playing ‘T.B Sheets’ and I know that feeling. I replay the intro and I get that shiver. It attacks me from all angles with words and melodies and memories. I turn the White Stripes up and I am 15 again mesmerized in the Carling Academy. So maybe I just stay in with a great playlist this valentines day? Forget 12 rose pipe-dreams, this is the next best thing. I’ll be falling in love with Jack White all over again. So what else is new?

Monday, 13 December 2010

Sound And Visions: The Bandicoots on their Way to the Top

Sound and Visions: The Bandicoots on their way to the top.

“Crash and the Bandicoot’s” demo CD is blaring in the as I write this. The song is “ Cactus shop”, maybe the most debased, misanthropic love song I’ve ever heard; a cursing, venomous ode to the kind of girl you love to hate and equally hate yourself for doing so.
Greig Taylor’s vocals, haunted with equal measures of love and despair throb menacingly from the speakers as I recall my discussion with the two-man band the previous day. Not to be labelled as any sort of Simon and Garfunkel accolade, both young men have something profound to say.
Dressed casually when I meet them at a local café that day; jeans, shirts and sweatshirts, floppy hair on Greig Taylor which he majestically sweeps to the side occasionally. Rory Milligan, tall and dark gives off a sense of cleanliness and unrumpled freshness, his legs crossed smarty, his hands tapping his lap.
The first question asked discusses the bands sound, a question designed to satisfy our own need for comparison. I figure all new bands suffer from this questionable need for contrast-only yesterday someone asked me what “Crash and the Bandicoots” played and naturally I replied by means of association. I answered, in Milligan’s own words; “They sound like David Bowie beating a good tune out of Donovan.“ Beautifully articulated, but Milligan’s tongue is firmly in his cheek.
“ Well its something we’ve never been compared to before and it sounded suitably shit”.
Both members are understandably uncomfortable with such comparisons, leaving it entirely up to me to pigeonhole their art. Only the most foolish musicians would do so to themselves. Greig Taylor when asked the same question replies “Pigeons are dirty, dove wannabes and holes are for hiding things in”, a predictably cryptic reference to the dilemma of being branded one thing early in your career,unable to escape the shackles forever more. But “CATB” are not the new anyone.
Variously their sound has been described as similar to the acoustic dwindlings of 60’s psychedelic folk rocker Donovan, whilst Taylor’s lyrics seem to mirror the sort of cryptic poetry identified in the ramblings of Peter Doherty, or perhaps the Herald crossword.. But the diversity of many of the bands they are compared to measure the fact that they don’t actually sound like anyone, despite being influenced by everyone.
Q: So who would you say you have been most influenced by?
Rory: I don’t know. Probably early Clapton and John Cale. I like Paul Simonon from the Clash, he couldn’t really play either when he first joined that band. I also really liked my old English teacher for reasons i can't even really explain. Then there are other people and other things . ..
Greig: Personally Pete Doherty and The Stone Roses and I’m pretty inspired by lying on the floor at parties or social gatherings and listening to “music to lie down to”
Taylor is justifiably aghast at a recent report in their school Newspaper describing the group as ‘pop-punk funsters’.
“Where the Hell did they get that from?”, he laments.
And it does seem rather difficult to say. Punk? Occasionally. Possibly. Funsters? Anything but. The band’s music is the antithesis to funsterism, their songs have depth and intrigue, a masked antagonism and several killer hooks which sporadically threaten to thump you spinning into next week. Each lyric has resonance and meaning, with no examples of forced fitting rhymes or Liam Gallagher poetry. They range from high pathos, through haunting isolation arriving somewhere around mild aggression, beautifully illustrated in Taylor’s lyrics.
Q: So what’s you’re favourite lyric then?
Rory: Um there are so many to think of! “I need you more than want you, and I want you for all time” is pretty heart wrenching and “There was a band playing in my head, and I felt like getting high. I was thinking about what a friend had said, I was hoping it was a lie.”, in After the Goldrush by Neil Young. That’s pretty perfect in every way.
Greig: “I am the resurrection and I am the light. I couldn’t ever bring myself to hate you as I’d like“. I like to follow that philosophy.
From the lyrical choice we take a lot of what both members are really like; Milligan is a thinker, a soul man, a cynic, he’s seen it all before man. Taylor on the other hand is a blasĂ© kind of man, so unconcerned he’s lying on the floor man!
The overriding feeling you get from talking to the band is that they are ambitious only in their desire to earn a crust from playing their music. I’ve seen them perform at various stages and receive praise for their music and performance but particularly Milligan seems to take it all in good humour as if unconvinced by the seriousness of the situation. The thought of him swaggering about Morrissey style proclaiming his genius is as ridiculous as it is unlikely.
This is not a group with a marketing department nor a demographic in mind. They are strictly take us or leave us and it doesn’t seem like their musical direction will be swayed or manipulated by attempting to second guess a potential audience.
Even the name ‘Crash and the Bandicoots”, suggests that the band consider themselves secondary to the music they create. The official story is that a copy of their favourite pre-pubescent, time wasting activity was lying on a table in a room where they were practising and the name just stuck. When pressed further, Taylor offers perhaps the biggest insight into the bands attitude, “ A brilliant game was sitting in front of me at the time. In my head I’d like to say something like ‘it represents two young men who are so caught up in an artificial world that they have lost themselves in the real one’ But that’s bollocks and I’d never say that out loud”. He can let the music do that.