Sunday, September 21, 2003
I Think I'm In Love

Matters of the heart crop up all the time in pop songs. Yearning, satisfied, pure, lustful, before, after. But in most songs, there's little room for doubt. You love somebody or you don't. You're in love or you're out of love.

Of course, things aren't that simple in real life. People may know what their feelings about someone or something are (although even this is tenuous) but we sure as hell can't always rely on knowing what the feelings of others are. We live in a world of perpetual uncertainty. We navigate it as best we can but there are no guarantees.

Ladies And Gentlemen We Are Floating In Space is an album shot through with doubt and distrust. Nothing and nobody can be depended on.

So ITIIL is the third song on the album. The music is wistful. Humming away into a sweet buzz of disorientation. The sound track to an Indian Summer afternoon as the light dies. Jason Pierce's lyrics begin as standard-issue junkie crap - and then comes:

"But I don't care 'bout you
And I've got nothing to do"

A childish, petulant come back. I'm so over you... I'm gonna shoot up. Ah, that didn't work, did it? And then the strange call-and-response dialogue starts up. Jason is talking to himself. The effect is like Woody Allen gone gospel:

"Think my name is on your lips (probably complaining)"

The song fizzes away like an alka seltzer. Neurotic self-absorption turned inward, fitfully eating itself away. Drug delirium as a metaphor for romantic delusion.

It may be one of the best songs about love (as opposed to love songs) and its various side effects ever written.
Saturday, September 20, 2003
Jesus and Mary Chain - yes, they are painful. That's the point. You Trip Me Up or In A Hole are meant to leave scars on your ears in the best possible way.
And as for humidity - yeah, Bummed always smelt of dry ice and sweat to me. The whole album disappears in a haze. Pills 'n' Thrills was definite and well-behaved and dry in comparison. Or rather it felt rusty and corroded - like the years of hedonism on the inside and Manc precipitation on the outside had finally compromised the industrial infrastructure of the Hacienda.
London (and Dizzy Rascal)

I went into a shop today and asked after the Dizzy Rascal CD as others had raved about it. It left me cold. Literally. I was shivering in Sydney spring sunshine. It's defintely got a lotta garidge in there. The sub-bass pressure drops, the asymetric drum patterns. The sheer naked aggression of the thing. It triggered a weird flashback to life in London. Screwfacef***youbodyarmourdontcomenearme.

It reminded me why I don't live there now. But I didn't need reminding often enough to buy the goddamn thing.
This week is Glebe Week (courtesy of the Glebe Chamber of Commerce).

Tomorrow we have the Blessing of the Pets at Glebe Estate Community Church. If i had a pet, you can bet ya caboose I'd be down there ensuring it was blessed.
A Home and a Castle

We moved offices at the end of August. They didn't have enough space in the new building so a whole slew of us were told to work from home. I have been adjusting to this situation. Contrary to others' expectations I do make an effort in my teleworking - washing, wearing clothers, even shaving. But the change is requiring some adjustment, especially around ethical practice.

The early indicators are:
- Working from home is fine, provided you find alternative ways of keeping touch with colleagues
- The urge to get out of the house during the evenings is pretty overpowering
- Sitting out in the sun drinking tea in the backyard whilst doing business on the mobile is kinda cool

When do they put WiFi in pubs?

Powered by Blogger