Wait until next year

Putting off what could be done tomorrow, today

Month: June, 2013

I am well aware that the world does not need another post about Daft Punk

Men in record shop

Random Access Memories is a fascinating album in theory. Dance music has generally been all about sampling, creating new sounds from old sources. And those samples often produce some sort of uncanny feeling, as you’ve kind-of heard that sound before, but might not be able to place it, and even if you can it doesn’t necessarily sound like how you remember it sounding. There is an appeal to that textural borrowing, it is almost a short-cut to creating a certain feel, or a way of toying with those feelings. Read the rest of this entry »

Morrissey gets irate about music videos on TV-am

Paul Gambaccini interviews Morrissey on the TV-am sofa in 1984. Henry Kelly and Toni Arthur get involved in the conversation too, with varying results. While Morrissey comes across as a bit pompous, I do miss pop/rock stars having something interesting to say, and it is always enjoyable watching them saying that something interesting in an odd environment, like breakfast television.

Teardrop Factory

Teardrop Factory

I haven’t bought anything on vinyl for years. While I’ll still enough of a Luddite to prefer my music in real, hold-in-your-hand form rather than digital download vague-ery, I’ve tended to lean on the unloved, possibly evil, compact disc format ahead of the hipper, warmer vinyl. Yet this week after hearing Teardrop Factory for the first time I had to order their debut EP on lovely 7″ vinyl. Read the rest of this entry »

27 ideas for things I’d like to see other bloggers write

man wearing box speaks to woman

1. Where did it all go wrong? Read the rest of this entry »

Four Hundred

Crowd looking upwardsHuddled people braving the rainI could never motivate myself to write a diary. I’d start in January, a little late, never on the 1st. I might backdate a few entries. And then I’d stop after a week or so. Maybe because there was nothing interesting to write. Nothing interesting happens anyway, and even less happens in early January. Maybe it had yet to hardwire itself into my routine. What I wrote was dull, or self-absorbed, or embarrassing. Who would want to read it? Who would read it? Was I just going to leave my diary hanging around, or was I planning on there being some sort of posthumous release after a long and yet-to-be-decided career? Read the rest of this entry »

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