Hey, it looks like my 6 month Tumblr strike brought down SOPA and PIPA! Go me. But enough of that, I’ve got ‘product’ to ‘shift’. And, yes, 11 minutes of new tune-age in 6 months is a perfectly good productivity rate, since you ask.
Right, where’s that bottle of Angry Chimp moonshine?
download this to listen to as you watch the sun rise over the stone circle of your choice tomorrow morning
Such acts of worship are conducted with a fervour that seems wholehearted but defensive
my dad used to build the arms on them.
From Go the fuck to sleep, a bedtime book for parents.
I may have access to samizdat copies for other bedraggled parents of toddlers - send me a message for the secret code.
Come alive Diana, by Everything Everything, in kind of tribute to the bizarro weekend of ‘celebration, joy and pageantry’ (or fucking else) that we’ve just endured.
May they all have phantom heads to carry around soon enough.
On the Belfast - Stranraer ferry.
So I did have a bit of delve into Fleetwood Mac’s back catalogue, and now I’m completely obsessed with this song. One that I already knew by general cultural osmosis, but listening closely has got my ears wide open. Restraint packs a big punch, sonically and emotionally. Brilliant stuff.
There’s a song at about 6:30 into this film that contains the lines ‘Bicycle you are so lovely/I’ll love you till the stars turn to custard above me’. Them what have read some Flann O’Brien will know what he’s talking about, and may be excited to know that a somewhat home-brewed opera of The Third Policeman is in the planning. Sadly it hasn’t been given any institutional funding so it’s down to the likes of us to make it happen. (There seems to be some way to go, and not much time to get there.) (Via The Wire)
Anyway, another interesting thing about the video: the toy piano he uses in the love song to his bicycle is the very same one I bought for my elder boy in FAO Schwarz, NYC last year. We haven’t made it sound quite as good as that yet.
and this, as has been intimated before around this parish, is probably the finest set of sound waves committed to permanent storage in history.
right, off to bed. don’t expect this kind of thing too often.
aaaaaw fuck aye. That’s more straightforward.
A couple of weeks ago I was listening to this to this on the way to work. At 7:27 I was walking along Walton Street struggling not to mosh. By 8:21 I’m pretty sure I was getting funny looks. When the arpeggios and flickers faded into the single ride cymbal at about 9:17 I actually melted leaving behind just a gently steaming set of clothes.
