Too Much Honky Everything

Newly emerged photograph of Carrie Fisher from ESB

2010-05-19T01:43:00.000+01:00

2 cute.

2010-05-18T15:23:00.000+01:00

Friday, May 14th
7:20 am and the alarm on my N95 rolls into action, screeching at me to get out of bed. Only 6 hours earlier I was hearing about how the Red Baron shot down Nigel Farage's plane on the day of the UK General Election. With a mixture of excitement and great regret for being alive to the world this early I packed and set off on my 200-or-something mile car journey to the Western backwaters of Minehead.
The epic slog across the country, as I would later discover, paled insignificant compared to Omar Souleyman’s trip in the back of a U-Haul van all the way from Syria. One can only imagine how a man who showed no signs of speaking a word of English was invited to travel to play at Pavement’s festival.
Flopping out of the brave Nissan Micra like a tin of old sardines my friends and I set upon signing in and collecting our key cards for our rooms. The wait outside for our appointed spokesman, ATP veteran of two previous festivals, to return with our keys and the location of our luxurious Butlins abode felt like aeons. Brimming with excitement and the promise of opulently decorated plush Butlins chalets we battled with fatigue on the way to, what we were soon to find out, the aptly named ‘Turtle Square’. The green light beckoned us to enter and what met us was a dank hallway painted in a particularly fowl saturation of butterscotch and two bedrooms facing one another that Missionaries in Africa might have met with a sense of elation. Thankfully the bathroom was not a complete tragedy and the living room was decked with two burgundy couches and curtains sporting a plethora of miscellaneous brown stains. We had arrived.
Incidentally, Omar Souleyman, date and place of birth unknown, had arrived at his berth hours earlier. The prefabricated barracks of Minehead Butlins put a sense of fear into his big heart. Priding himself on never selling out and keeping true to his roots, he worried how stories of these decadent dwellings would go down back in his native Syria. He looked around at the opulent riches of colour splashed on the walls. The hue of camelskin on the walls was warm to him and the maroon carpets would have been plusher than the finest Syrian temple underneath the thick bed of dust and dirt that had gathered there over the years. The orgy of dust had Omar in a feeling of unease and he went to lay down on the lacquered mattress in the master bedroom.
I threw my bags down and hastily unpacked, digging through my changes of clothes and clawed at the bottle of Tesco Value Vodka. I thought about how the new picture of a lemon relaxing in the cool cascade of vodka was likely the reason it had gone up in price by over a pound in the last twelve months and joined everyone in the living room. The television, which must have been donated to Butlins by people of Surinam, cowered in the corner by the child locked windows that overlooked a row of cars that provided seagulls with target practice for the entire weekend. After frantically swigging around half a bottle of Strongbow to relax me we set out to the pavilion to see our first band of the weekend, the tenacious young Avi Buffalo.
Murmurings of Avigdor Zahner-Isenberg’s tender age filled the room as the hum of amps lingered in the background. I assume they played the hits that the crowd had hoped for as the atmosphere was glowing and in turn they basked in this on stage and played an assured set, and one which I rather enjoyed despite not knowing any of their songs, only the lore of their so-far-achieved success. With the stages so close to one another we left the dimly lit family entertainment room ‘Centre Stage’ and went to, confusingly, the main stage in the tent to see Surfer Blood immediately after Avi Buffalo’s 45 minutes were up.
Surfer Blood looked no older than the previous band and they showed a similar authority on stage in front of a much larger space. Crowds were sparser than they might have been for it was only the second band of the festival. The Antlers-esque echoing on the rather produced Astrocoast had led me to expect the band to be a lot older than they were. I was quite surprised to be confronted with how much the singer looked like a younger, chubbier version of Jimmy Eat World’s Jim Adkins. Appearances aside they played well and kept the crowd interested throughout but it was another band who I knew more by name than by their music, despite owning the record. Take It Easy was the highlight of a tight set.
The next band we would watch was an hour and fifteen minutes after Surfer Blood finished as we chose to return to headquarters in Turtle Square to remove as much alcohol from the premises as we could in the shortest amount of time possible instead of watching either Calexico or Spiral Stairs. I couldn’t have cared less about either had I tried. At 7:40pm, swigging down a bottle of cheap rose we walked through the current of festival-goers leaving the pavilion, including two of the members of Surfer Blood who I greeted with “hey you’re in Avi Buffalo you were really good” before pausing, laughing and correcting myself “Surfer Blood even”. They told me to enjoy the rest of the festival but I’d managed to make a fool of myself inside three hours of being there. Luckily I thought it was really funny and so the two of us returned to the ‘Centre Stage’ for The Walkmen.
It was soon apparent that I was not the only one in the crowd that was only really familiar with their riotous ‘The Rat’ but the crowd’s attention was held by a high octane performance only halted by a sound fault by the house technicians, ironically in the opening bars to ‘The Rat’. After around five minutes the issue was resolved and they started from the opening again after an annoying chorus of boos during the down time but that was all soon forgotten as several hundred people moved as one to what was an amazing four minutes. Their decision to play ‘The Rat’ so early surprised me at first but the audience’s interest held afterwards and the rest of the performance was viewed through the bustling crowd. Everyone soon dispersed as they finished around fifteen minutes earlier than according to the schedules we were given upon arrival and so everyone seemed to be heading to the same place, downstairs for Broken Social Scene.
The plan I had worked out for myself was to leave around fifteen minutes early to return back upstairs for Mission of Burma, one of the five bands I was genuinely excited about seeing. Instead it did not go to plan because after no longer than twenty minutes the four of us at 108 Turtle Square were unanimous in leaving and going back to the dwelling for yet more drinking. Broken Social Scene were another one of the five, but ultimately ranked lower than MoB. Instead on reflection BSS occupy number one spot for most disappointing act of the weekend. By this point I was buoyant from alcohol and would have a good time at almost any show but even despite that BSS were incredibly boring. Stood in a straight line facing the crowd they inanimately thrust a wall of boring guitars our way and the first three songs were practically exactly the same. We were all decided that we were looking forward to seeing them before we got there and so it was pretty frustrating when they delivered a less than half-arsed performance.
Having already walked the gauge between the stages and our flat a multitude of times already in the first day I did so again to return to the ‘Centre Stage’ to see Mission of Burma. The sound was not as great as most of the other acts before had been and very little was played from ‘Signals, Calls and Marches’ what is in my eyes by far their best album. It didn’t matter to most of the people in the front and the crowd buoyed me on to join in regardless. Miller and Conley appeared to take pleasure in making the crowd fret over whether or not they would play ‘That’s When I Reach For My Revolver’ and the longer it went on the more the pre-gig speculation and tales of how they didn’t even play it at recent gigs played on people’s minds (including my own). However there was little need for the fear for with their final song the bass strummed those hallowed opening notes and the clambering limbs of drunken people grabbed more frantically and the previously steady ground beneath my feet evaporated and I became a mere molecule in the waves of a stinking sweat pit, and it was incredible. Despite being thrust and thrusting into anyone and everyone regardless of whether or not they were close it wasn’t full of pricks like previous gigs I’ve been to, instead it was more reminiscent of being at the front for Pearl Jam in Belgium a few years ago. It didn’t even matter that the sound wasn’t so full or that the song wasn’t as melodic as on record, that bassline was like fucking catnip and even though I was sent to my knees against a hard and dirty heavy duty service I was back up in one swift movement. When the sound died out and Mission of Burma left the stage the pit returned to a bunch of ordinary people who looked at one another knowingly, something excellent had just happened.
Events from then on are really a blur. I bought my first non-alcoholic drink of the night and a packet of pickled onion monster munch in the hope that I could sober up enough to see any other bands and after Quasi had bored me in a way heavily reminiscent to BSS only a few hours earlier I cut my losses and stumbled home for the last time that night.

Worst comic ever made and it was by me.

2010-04-29T23:38:00.000+01:00

Haven't been on here for ages.

2010-04-29T12:12:00.004+01:00

I have kind of ran away to Tumblr. because it's acceptable to just post utter utter shit there. The link for that is circuitboardsintears.tumblr.com and subsequently off that is a World Cup tumblr. http://fuckyeahfifaworldcup.tumblr.com/

I'll try and keep this thing updated not that anyone is particularly bothered.

Have a picture:

Religious studies with Rivers Cuomo

2010-02-04T02:26:00.002Z

An Ugly Death

2010-02-03T18:27:00.001Z

So yeah, coroner reports say that Jay Reatard's death was a mixture of toxicity of cocaine and alcohol. Shame. Gone out like your namesake, Jim Morrison I guess.

Good Intentions Paving Company

2010-02-02T20:26:00.002Z

Just when I thought it wasn't possible to find Joanna Newsom any more adorable.

Feb 23 seems too far away now.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KCCl3nzL5PI&feature=player_embedded

Instead of being sucked into the darkness.

2010-01-15T04:26:00.001Z

A bit chubby? Curly hair? Maybe that's why you were my hero, some resemblance to me (only you had lots of talent)

Wait

2010-01-15T03:27:00.002Z

I just read a few minutes ago that Jay Reatard's death is being treated as a homicide. If this is a case, the perpetrator, I hate you with every essence of my body/soul/whatever and I openly/gratuitously hope you fucking die the worst death. I in no way would feel any remorse to fucking watch you first handedly die, if this is true. I hate your fucking guts. I don't care what justification you try to use. You've ruined his family's life, completely torn them to bits. Then add the fans, you've just fucked up a whole bunch of fans (me included). I fucking dreamed of meeting him and just saying something like 'hey man, how's it going', and shaking his hand. You've fucking stole that from me. I hope you fucking die.

Hammer, I Miss You

2010-01-14T03:28:00.003Z

Now I know what it feels like when a hero dies. It's really quite odd. In a way, obviously I didn't know Jay Reatard - I never met him... But then, through his music, his publicity photos through to his twitter updates and photos he uploaded himself - I had a rare opportunity to feel like I could connect with him as just a normal guy. There wasn't a wall there, I was not enamoured by him as the ideal of a person - instead he presented himself as a normal guy who just happened to make some incredible music. (I'm not deluding myself like the poor people in the Michael Jackson seance did, of course - I know that he was not reaching out to me in particular).

Whilst he's been a prolific artist and I have most of his music that he has made (and I'm fortunate there are a lot of songs of his to enjoy for the rest of my life) but it's always sad to know there won't be more. Okay, so when favourite bands break up, you tend to check what the guys go on to do, but as a solo artist that has passed away, you can't really look elsewhere.

Even more so as old bandmates seem to be hiding away in terms of releases at the moment.

Coors light in the van ! Smoked the chron and jammed the bats ! Plus it's raining and I have a huge crush ... Life is good !

Totally unprofessional, shitty photo taken on a shitty phone camera. He kept it real. Seen live performances on YouTube and they're insane. Of course there's the incident last month when he got attacked but also the time he was cool enough to let this girl on stage to mess about with his V and she started smashing it up. All he asked was for everyone to have a good time and he was like everyone else.

I bet he was an awesome guy, and not even lying, I would totally live my life his way (and die in just over 6 years time) if I have anywhere near as much fun as he may well have.

The caption - life is good! at the end just makes it that bit more sad for me.

R.I.P. Jimmy Lee Lindsey aka Jay Reatard

2010-01-13T21:29:00.003Z

Just found out from Pitchfork that Jay Reatard has died. I'm fucking numb, man. This is the first time an artist I've loved has died whilst at the height of their career. Sure there was MJ last year, but he was not making some of my favourite music whilst I was growing up - most of MJ's was before I was even born.

He may well have been a jerk, but man, he made amazing music and he seemed like a genuine guy. His twitter updates were always amazing, like the last one a few days saying he'd pay someone for every tyre they popped on a rival band's van.

Two of his albums are in my top ten of the decade, for fucks sake.

I am kicking myself so much for not going to see him in November - for a birthday I never even got told about in the end - so I missed it for no reason.

But this isn't about me. It's about Jay Reatard. Not only did he make awesome music but he also made me aware of other great music such as Chris Knox. I guess the last properly recorded thing I'll hear is his cover on the Knox tribute album (to raise money for medical bills because of a stroke).

Just gutted...

shit what i've drew (and never finished)

2010-01-11T02:47:00.003Z

Also

Glory and that.

2010-01-07T01:11:00.001Z

I haven't made the obligatory post yet.

On Sunday, 3/1/10 (YEAH TAKE THAT AMERICA), Leeds United, of League One (English 3rd division) beat Manchester United, of the Premier League (English 1st division) 1-0 away from home in the FA Cup. Man Utd are pretty much the best team in England. We won.

If you're a Man U fan, then lol.

Any way, FA CUP. FOOTBALL. HE MUST HAVE A FOOT LIKE A TRACTION ENGINE!!!

Top 10 of the decade

2009-12-31T18:26:00.003Z

10: Deftones - White Pony (2000)

9: Animal Collective - Merriweather Post Pavillion (2009)

8: Tom Vek - We Have Sound (2005)

7: The Knife - The Knife (2000)

6: Mastodon - Leviathan (2004)

5: Lost Sounds - Lost Sounds (2004)

4: At The Drive In - Relationship of Command (2000)

3: Saul Williams - Saul Williams (2004)

2: Jay Reatard - Blood Visions (2006)

1: The Knife - Deep Cuts (2003)

2009-12-29T12:14:00.001Z

Apparently I should update when off my face more often.

THE POWER!!!!!! OF LARDD!!!

2009-12-29T07:30:00.002Z

Ok, so I am back in Canterbury after Christmas.

I managed to avoid chocolate. (good). I had to watch my fam eat a chocolate cake, that was hard. But I managed to persevere thru.

However. I did eat quite a lot of unlean meats. Turkey. Chicken. Motherfucking gammon. Drenched in pissing cider. Who does that? Jamie Oliver would be gurning his little chops off right nowwww.

Roast power doesn't end at home. In what began a simple trip to the Tesco for some alcobooze ended up in me getting a whole leg of pork for £1.39 LOL and 2 breasts of chicken for something like 69p. (sorry vegetarians!) I will, however, make up for it by eating pasta without meat in it in between.

Tried to play left 4 dead. it was fun, tho I got shitfaced and we couldn't complete the final section. OF THE FIRST LEVEL. HA. Faaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaail. Bells was cheap, Bells was drunk. Now I am on the left over Rose. It's pretty gross. But then... what Rose isn't? Is Rose a Rose by any other name? Yeah, cos it tastes like old poo.

I got Modern Warfare 2 for Christmas. Can't wait to bust that shiz out and play it til my xbox melts (or til I complete it, whichever comes first).

It's 07:36 am and I am still typing away and swigging wine. I am like an esteemed authour. Minus the books.

And the esteemed bit.

I'm like a student. Or a wastrel. Same difference. I wish I went to college in the US. Apparently the girls there have sense of pity and sleep with anyone and everyone. Ok, so these girls are cum dumpsters - but - I'm quite open minded. I'll wear protection. Make sure I don't touch another guy's sperm with my weiner. I think I know the drill.

ALSO. I can't believe the BEE BEE CEE used Animal Collective (Brother Sport) on their ads. After ignoring them totally for sound of 09 (or any other previous or post year), using them unashamedly to an audience of perhaps 207 who knew what it was... ODD. ODD BALLS. No wonder Terry 'Tezza' Wogan 'Woganator' quit. No wonder Alan Shearer continues to get work.

PPS. I watched Something Something Darkside. A slight upturn in the fortunes of Family Guy. The references to the making of Empire Strikes Back were particularly pleasing though other jokes fell wide of the mark. I stick with the fact that in terms of general episode, Family Guy no longer cuts the mustard. It does not have the mustardess something such as Al Partridge has, that stands the test of time. I may have dismantled my Corby trouser press but at least I'm never going to use these Tungsten tip screws (ad infinitum).

BYE.

Dissertation: over?

2009-12-17T09:31:00.002Z

At 8:46 this morning I finished my dissertation. I hate the sight of Jamie Lee Curtis, I wanna punch her in the head. I will happily not watch another slasher film for a year.

I have to go to university and hand it in now. That will be fun, won't it? It is going to take me about 2hrs pretty much and then I have enough time to come home and start the next essay and then go to uni again for a seminar 4-6pm. So, quite possibly, 2 all nighters in a row.

Fuck yeah.

Also I drank too many energy drinks and I feel like I have 20 stones in my stomach and my teeth are squishy like jelly babies.

Things to be happy about

2009-12-11T04:40:00.004Z

1. Two pieces of work down. Now only two encroaching deadlines.
2. Christmas and homeward bound on the 18th.
3. Only one piece of work over the holidays.
4. Linked to 2 and 3, use Christmas as a way to get Call of Duty Modern Warfare 2.
5. Play xbox non-stop for a week what with no work.
6. New Yeasayer album is actually pretty awesome.
7. I watched Zombieland. It was surprisingly good and not rubbish. Reignited my desire to make zombie films.
8. I have a copy of Adobe Premiere running on my laptop.
9. I am able to write an essay on auteuristic features of Dick's novels, most likely going for the folly of consumerism.
10. Ted Leo on the 15th. £5 entry. Lolzords.

What is the worst program?

2009-12-10T12:38:00.003Z

I think that it is PowerPoint. What a piece of poo it is. I don't know what to write on the slides for this presentation. How does one go about wording the content? A brief summary which then is never enough in ur mind because you need to stipulate the importance of everything - and when discussing perceptions of reality and stylistic devices of a novel which in a sense self-referentially plays with perception PowerPoint really shows its true colours.

The colour of turd. It is a turd. I wish I didn't have to use the stupid thing.

Open invitation

2009-12-09T05:42:00.001Z

Dear Scarlett Johansson,

Would you like to hang out some time? You're very pretty.

Your musical and acting talents are supreme.

If you would like kisses, do not hesitate to contact me.

Yours,

Garry Vince.

x

The last few days; a brief summary

2009-12-08T19:49:00.006Z

Today I got shouted out on the radio by the extremely dangerous Charles Meyrick re: the story of how I refused to go into a room of a party because 'everyone was ugly'. The attempt of eloquent delivery on Charles' part was mostly bumbling and interspersed with laughter and that pleased me. I am now known on the radio, Canterbury Student Radio (97.4 I THINK IT WAS I DIDN'T QUITE CATCH IT WITH ALL THOSE JINGLES), that is.

------

I read all of Ubik and have had about a thousand ideas for my presentation on said book on Thursday - but each time I sit down with my group to discuss it another 10 ideas on perceptions of reality and metaphors come into my mind. This is practically turning my brain into a mushy pulp - like something out of old-skool Peter Jackson films.

On a New Zealand note, it is extremely nice to hear Jeff Mangum's raspy whines again. Of course I know he's not from NZ, stick with me...

He's made a song as part of the tribute compilation for Chris Knox entitled 'Stroke' after he unfortunately suffered a stroke in the summer of this year. The list of artists who stepped up to pay tribute to Knox is absolutely fantastic. Yo La Tengo, Jay Reatard, Jeff Mangum, Bonnie 'Prince' Billy, Lou Barlow, Mountain Goats and more. It's a testament to a man who is criminally unknown outside of New Zealand.

Listen to samples of the tracks to 'Stroke' here

I cannot wait for the release in February - I will be pre-ordering my copy as soon as I have the money.

Also people should totally check out some of Knox's albums if you can at all. His second band, Toy Love, have a collected works on Spotify

Do it.

-----

This week I also managed to hail satan by reaching an unholy playcount of Slayer. I can never listen to them again for I may unbalance the axis of evil and Cthulu might come and eat my brains. My mushy mushy brains.

Westie Can Drum

2009-12-04T02:46:00.001Z

Is it Lincoln's beard?

Then why's he got a horse's body?

Ubik

2009-12-03T01:22:00.001Z

I am reading it.

It is good.

Career opportunities (the ones that never knock)

2009-12-02T23:22:00.003Z

Apparently I have now decided to put my fingers in many pies. After Christmas I will actively attempt to make;

Music.
Films.
Animations.
Comics.
Novels.
Web comics (maybe).
Music/Film reviews.
Knitted jumpers.
Photography.
Paintings.
Drawings.

Wish me luck at being able to do any of these. Thx.

Counting Down the Hours

2009-12-01T01:35:00.002Z

I am raaaaaaaather excited about Ted Leo playing Bramleys in Canterbury on December 15th. This is going to be wayyyy better than the best gigs I've been to in Canterbury so far; we're talking Lightspeed Champion, Elephants, Casio Kids, Sky Larkin, Black Kids in that sort of order I guess.

I may even forgive Bramleys for the time they turned me away because I threw on the first thing which just so happened to be a football shirt.

I am a yobbo.

Inspiration; an odd contraption

2009-11-30T12:46:00.003Z

After having been stuck with how to properly proceed with my dissertation (deadline in 19 days time now) I was absent mindedly trawling around last.fm as usual when I remembered that the other day I saw a Tumblr. entry, (thanks christmasonthemoon) that mentioned Avey Tare's love for Texas Chain Saw Massacre. In trying to find the quote in order to laugh about how even my dissertation has become hipster I happened across the accompanying picture; a freeze frame from the movie.

This freeze frame in fact -

This photograph alone completely changed the content of my essay and several ideas, with sources to back them up, came flooding into my head. I've now got as many of them as I've been able to down on paper but I have lost some amidst sleep last night.

But, the moral of this story is that some times, some times, procastination is work's best friend.

Lookbook

2009-11-29T23:23:00.000Z

Lookbook.

Don't look at lookbook.

it is depressing.

O2; Worst internet provider on earth.

2009-11-29T23:05:00.002Z

Right now I am actually jealous of the download speeds people on 64kbps dialup get. It's also far more stable a connection.

As I type I am downloading a 9.1mb mp3 from Pitchfork's website, a legal and properly supported site with plenty allocated bandwidth and the download is soaring at 9.4kb/s, taking over 8 more minutes to download the remaining 70%.

I cannot bear the thought of having to pay them another penny for this abysmal service. I think there was better internet available to tribes native to Borneo in the 1940s.

Oh. My. God.

2009-11-25T04:21:00.002Z

These New Puritans - We Want War is one of THE greatest songs I have heard in a long time. It is absolutely massive. Every thing in this song is huge, especially the drums. I'm talking huger than the drums in Brother Sport by Animal Collective.

On their website, TNPS did state they were using huge Japanese drums on the album. Now I really cannot wait until January for their album to drop. I am already anticipating one of the best albums of next year.

I am genuinely breathtaken by the fact a band this amazing and inventive has come out of Southend. Their debut album is fantastic and all, but in comparison to We Want War it seems like a simple indie pop album. The loops and electronics seem to have taken a back seat as they genuinely get tribal. The sound of the song fits the name so well and if the rest of the album is anything like We Want War it is going to get a trillion plays and may even outshine The Knife's upcoming material. Fancy that.

Everyone needs to hear this band for real.

Eh? Factor

2009-11-22T20:54:00.002Z

Great, it's that time of the week again where the entirety of my Facebook newsfeed and Twitter feeds are completely filled with words such as 'Jedward'. I hate this time of the week. Everyone might as well be speaking another language. How is X Factor even still going? It beggars belief.

Oh wait, no it doesn't. People will watch anything. So long as the TV emits a signal someone is going to be there mopping it up.

Sundays really are pretty rubbish. Not even this many people care about football. Guaranteed there'll be less uproar when England get knocked out of the World Cup next year on Facebook/Twitter than there is when some guy called Danyl or something does something unsatisfactory.

wake up John Carpenter

2009-11-22T02:14:00.002Z

So, after writing around 4000 words of notes on one of my favourite horror films, Halloween (1978) I picked up on some things that I never really noticed before that are quite stupid really;

Michael Myers, institutionalised at 6 years of age can drive a car.

The clock chimes out 10 times in the opening scene. When Myers walks past the clock the hands point nowhere near 10.

Linda and Annie openly rag on Laurie for having loads of books yet Annie has almost as many.

Annie doesn't even wonder why, after going to collect her car keys from the house, the car door is no longer locked when she tries it again (without inserting the key).

Myers doesn't even reach back to get leverage when he pins Bob to the door with a carving knife that is clearly not long enough to go through a grown man in his late teens/early 20s AND through a wooden door deep enough pin him about 10 cm off the ground. This guy weighs what, 14 stone or so? Silly.

Those wooden slats on the wardrobe Laurie hides in are definitely not as robust as Michael makes them seem, especially if he can do the above without so much as attempting to get momentum with his stabbing arm.

Some other shit is probably obvious too. Luckily I get to watch it again in a few days, this time to see the ways in which Michael is emasculated. I cannot wait.

Those were the best years of my life...

2009-11-21T18:40:00.002Z

Ok, so I have embarked upon the great task that is creating the (not so) shortlist for my top 100 musical longplaying discs of the decade.

In order to make sure I don't miss anything I will not decide anything properly until the last week of December because otherwise it's only going to bite me in the arse when people say 'aw but why is Kid A not in the list but Spirit is?'

So far I have 134 albums on the list which means there is a lot more albums to listen to.

All this and still no dissertation work. But I do want to be a bigshot music guy after all.

Music - a universal language

2009-11-20T12:53:00.000Z

Okay, so some times it can be fun to take a song you like with lyrics you know and enjoy and then see what is lost in translation.

Well, most normal people have probably never tried it. But I find it soothing.

Take The Beatles - I Am The Walrus for example;

Here are the original lyrics: (Taken from some shitty site, mind)

I am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together.
See how they run like pigs from a gun, see how they fly.
I'm crying.

Sitting on a bench, waiting for the bus to come.
Corporation t-shirts, stupid bloody Tuesday.
You've been a naughty boy, you let your hair grow long.
I am eating eggs, they are eating eggs, I am the Walrus,
Goo goo ga joob.

Mister City P'liceman sitting
Pretty little girls in a row.
See how they fly like a plane in the Sky, see how they fly.
I'm crying.
I'm cry, I'm crying, I'm cry.

Yellow custard, dripping from a large black pot.
Fisherman with his fishwife,
You've been a naughty boy and you let your face get dirty.
I am eatting eggs (woo), they are eatting eggs (woo), I am the Walrus,
Goo goo ga joob.

Sitting in an English garden waiting for the sun.
If the sun don't come, you get wet from
Sitting in the English rain.
I am eating eggs, they are eating eggs, I am The Walrus,
goo goo gajoob ga goo goo gajoob.

Expert singers, choking smokers
Don't you think the joker laughs at you? (ho ho ho, he he he, ha ha ha)
See how they snort like pigs in a sty, see how they snide.
I'm crying.

Eleanor Rigby, climbing up the stairs.
Expert singers singing Hare Krishna.
Man, you should have seen them reading Edgar Allan Poe.
I am eatting eggs, they are eatting eggs, I the Walrus,
Goo goo gajoob ga goo goo ga joob
(everybody ho ha everybody ho ha!)

I ran it through Spanish (European) on FreeTranslation.com

Here it is in Spanish;

Soy él como usted es él como usted me es y somos todo juntos. Vea cómo ellos corren como puercos de un fusil, vean cómo ellos vuelan. Lloro.

Sentar en un banco, esperando el autobús para venir. Las camisetas de la corporación, el martes sangriento estúpido. Usted ha sido un chico travieso, usted permite que el pelo crezca largo. Como huevos, ellos comen huevos, yo soy John Lennon, joob de ga de sustancia pegajosa de Sustancia Pegajosa.

La Ciudad del señor que sienta a niñas Bonitas en una fila. Vea cómo ellos vuelan como un avión en el Cielo, vean cómo ellos vuelan. Lloro. Soy grito, yo lloro, soy grito.

El flan amarillo, goteando de un bote negro grande. El pescador con su pescadera, Usted ha sido un chico travieso y usted permite que la cara se ponga sucia. Como huevos (corteja), ellos comen
huevos (corteja), soy John Lennon, joob de ga de sustancia pegajosa de Sustancia Pegajosa.

Sentar en un jardín inglés que espera el sol. Si el sol no viene, usted moja de Sentar en la lluvia inglesa. Como huevos, ellos comen
huevos, yo soy John Lennon, gajoob de sustancia pegajosa de sustancia pegajosa de ga de gajoob de sustancia pegajosa de sustancia
pegajosa.

¿Los cantantes expertos, estrangulándose a fumadores Hacen no usted piensa las risas de bromista en usted? (Ho de
ho de ho, él él él, ah ah ah) Ve cómo ellos bufan como puercos en una pocilga, vean cómo ellos falsificación.
Lloro.

Eleanor Rigby, subiendo la escalera. Los cantantes expertos que cantan Liebre Krishna. El hombre, usted debe haber visto ellos leyendo Edgar Allan Poe. ¡Como huevos, ellos comen huevos, yo John Lennon, joob de ga de sustancia pegajosa de sustancia pegajosa de ga de gajoob de sustancia
pegajosa de Sustancia Pegajosa (todos ho ah todos ho ah)!

and finally, translate the translation back from Spanish (European) to English and we get...

I am he as you are he like you is myself and we are all at once. See how do they run as pigs of a rifle, they see how they fly. I cry.

Sitting down in a bank, expecting the bus to come. The undershirts of the corporation, Tuesday bloody stupid. You have been a mischievous boy, you permit that the hair grow long. As eggs, they eat eggs, I I am John Lennon, joob of ga of sticky substance of Sticky Substance.

The City of the Mister that sits down Pretty girls in a row. See how do they fly like an airplane in the Sky, they see how they fly. I cry. I am shout, I cry, I am shout.

The yellow custard, dripping of a large black rowboat. The fisherman with its pescadera, You have been a mischievous boy and you permit that the face be put dirty. As eggs (courts), they eat eggs (courts), I am John Lennon, joob of ga of sticky substance of Sticky Substance.

Sitting down in an English garden that expects the sun. If the sun does not come, you wet to Sit down in the English rain. As eggs, they eat eggs, I I am John Lennon, gajoob of sticky substance of
sticky substance of ga of gajoob of sticky substance of sticky substance.

The expert singers, being strangled smokers Do do not you think the laughters of joker in you? (Ho of ho of ho, he he he, oh oh oh) Sees how do they snort like pigs in a pigsty, they
see how they forgery. I cry.

Eleanor Rigby, rising the stair. The expert singers that sing Hare Krishna. The man, you must have seen they reading Edgar Allan Poe. As eggs, they eat eggs, I John Lennon, joob of ga of sticky substance of sticky substance of ga of gajoob of sticky substance of Sticky Substance (all ho oh all ho oh)!

Beach House

2009-11-20T00:05:00.000Z

Everybody that likes the music of purported individuals should all do themselves a favour and listen to Teen Dream by Beach House because it is far better than what the radio plays.

The singer sounds a bit like Ezra Koenig, but unlike Vampire Weekend, it isn't shit.

Any way, do what you want - if you enjoy aimlessly fiddling around inside your ears with a screwdriver then by all means carry on. If you want to upgrade to having aural pleasure seep into your ears and malnourished brain then listen to this album.

Bye.

Morrissey likes to eat food

2009-11-19T01:17:00.000Z

A compilation of food related song titles between myself and ex-bandmate Christopher Houghton entitled 'You Are The Curry'

Pretty Girls Make Gravy.

First of the Gang To Dine.

Girlfriend in a Korma.

This Chowmein Man.

Hand in Oven Glove.

That Yolk Isn't Runny Anymore.

A Rush and a Push and the Lamb is ours.

William, it was Really Mutton.

Angel Delight, Angel Delight, Down We Go Together.

Some Grills Are Bigger Than Others.

Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Meat.

Stop Me If You Think You've Had This Swan Before.

Picallily Palare.

All You Need Is Meat.

A Plaice In Hell For Me and My Friends.

Satan Rejected My Sole.

November Spawned a Mackerel.

Gammon Lay Softly on the River Bed.

Satay Doesn't Help.

I Satayed Something I Couldn't Finish.

Last Of The Famous International Bagels.

You Have Grilled Me.

Heaven Knows I'm Mixed Grill Now.

Sheila Bake a Cow.

The Boy With the Quorn in his Side.

I Want the Swan I Can't Have.

Never Had No Swan Ever.

I Know It's Clover.

Miserable Pie.

The Bean is Red.

I've Four Given Cheeses.

King Leerdammer.

Alsation Cuisine.

(I'm) The End of The Cranberry Wine.

Frying Your Girlfriend's Scone.

Cemetry Crêpes.

Cemetry Grapes.

You're The One For Me, Satay.

Our Frankfurter.

Asian Nut.

Cajun Rut.

You Haven't Earned It Yet, Baby Back Ribs.

He Knows I'd Love To See Ham.

Reel Around the Chocolate Fountain.

Redondo Peach.

How Soon Is Chow?

Cheese Strings Take Time.

Back To The Old Steakhouse.

Accept Your Shellfish.

Please, Please, Please Let Me Get A Volovant.

The Queen is Fed. (R.C.)

Pour The Wine For Me, Fatty.

The Cuisine Is Bread.

I Just Want to Decree The Soy Crappy.

Swedehead. (R.C.)

You Have Chilled Mead.

The Hand That Rocks The Strudel. (bloc47)

Paint a Vulgar Pastry. (bloc47)

I'll Never Eat Anybody's Aero Now.

The Ham That Mocks The Bagel.
----

Bigmouth Strikes Again.

I Started Something I Couldn't Finish.

You're the one for me Fatty.

(obvious food connotations there without even editing the song titles)

Also, the chorus to Shoplifters of the World Unite sounds like 'chocolate dissolves the world'.

Any moar?

Also, what would be Morrissey's favourite flavour of crisp?

Wotsit Difference Does It Make?

Death of a Discos Multipack.

Well I Golden Wonder.

Tasks I ought to complete b4 I go grey.

2009-11-18T18:43:00.000Z

1. Record an underground classic with my band of upstarts, Neverhadaboner

2. Learn how to play music (see 1.)

3. Make and then release my proposed animated Zombie epic in which I will cunningly use music that is juxtaposed to that what we see on screen. Picture a scene in which a young man is getting his face chewed off whilst the moustachioed smooth pop stylings of Hall and Oates plays on the stereo (strictly diagetic one is hastened to add).

4. Open up underground music club entitled 'Fritzls'

5. Failing 4, make film about man who opens up underground music club entitled 'Fritzls'

6. Write story inspired loosely by The Shawshank Redemption featuring beloved screen actors Roger Moore, Adam West and Billy Dee Williams whose slick womanising ways and saucy quips provide ample humour in a tale of daring escape from the fancy retirement home for the stars which harbours dark secrets.

7. Become a fantastic man.

8. Get everything that I want for Christmas.

9. Run a record label and sign only bands with more than 2 drummers.

10. Make it to the toilet on time.