Lambchop - Gone Tomorrow

On heavy rotation around these parts. Unsettling as ever and accompanied by an equally odd clip.

Stick around for the sublime instrumental coda.

A Big Decision

It was over breakfast when I actually spoke the words I'd had rolling around in my head for some time. My partner's spoon hit the table - closely followed by her jaw.

'I think I might get rid of all my Records and CDs'

Come to think of it, hearing myself saying it out loud probabley caused my own jaw to head southwards a few inches.

I've been buying music in all it's increasingly varied formats since 1971 and as recently as 2009 my haul of CDs for that year alone teetered around the 300 mark. I'm a collector, a completest....ok a hoarder. So what's happened?

The idea was that the middle room upstairs in our new home would house our records, CDs, books and magazines, we'd even taken to referring to it as the library. Problems became apparent after I'd moved approximately a third of the above mentioned into the space. Sitting downstairs eating dinner later that evening I glanced upward to see ominous cracks in the ceiling where no cracks had previously been. I guess that was the moment that started me thinking about other options, the most promising of which was removing the CDs & packaging from the plastic casing, thus reducing the overall weight.

Very slowly though, I began to ponder the possibility of continuing to enjoy music without owning the physical product. At any other period of my life I would have laughed you out of the room, thrown you out of the house and released the hounds to see you out of town at the mere mention of the suggestion.

Due to prolonged legal machinations, our move last year suffered many delays and reschedules. We were all packed up and ready to go in April and didn't actually get the keys until October, since when we've been in full redecoration mode and are, to a large extent, still living out of boxes. One of the many consequences of this is that I haven't had access to any of my physical music for nearly 11 months....and I'm surprised to find that I'm coping OK.

Let me emphasise that this is not a quiet house. Between us we have four MP3 players, two laptops, a PC and two external hard-drives all of which are crammed with tuneage and being added to all the time. We play music constantly, to the extent that we haven't owned a TV since 2005.

But could I actually go through with the act of discarding a lifetime's obsession? Can I continue to put up with the inferior sound quality inherent in compressed files on a hard drive?

I've got to make a big decision.

I Got Silver & I Got Silk

The Mighty Ray Lowry

Divine Symmetry - Happy Birthday Bowie

It's become a cliche, because it's borne of truth - David Bowie bestrode the 1970s and was a musical roadmap, guiding the way for my generation as we came of age. He's done other great work of course, but it's the run of albums from 'Space Oddity' in late '69 through to 'Scary Monsters' in 1980 that cement his legacy.

In August 1997 I was crushed towards the front of the crowd at the Shepherds Bush Empire, for a show on the 'Earthling' tour. The album flirted with drum'n'bass, so I was anticipating something of a sonic assault. To my astonishment he walked from the wings with an acoustic guitar and opened the show with 'Quicksand' from my first Bowie LP, 'Hunky Dory'. Grown men wept.



That performance is available to view on YouTube thanks to an amateur camera operator doing a sterling job. This, however, is from a couple of months later, when the tour had moved on to the USA and is notable for some snazzy professional camera work which allows us a glimpse at Bowie's footwear of choice at the time - sandals with socks!

Happy Birthday David.

Call Me Tiger

In October last year we moved to a new (old) house in a semi-rural location. I find moving stressful at the best of times, but knowing that this place was something of a 'project' only served to make my palpitations all the more palpable - D.I.Y. is far from my forte and the budget is tight.

Now the builders are here and our home resembles a scaled down version of Thornley Manor as rubble accrues and a layer of dust covers everything. I've been a mess since they arrived. Everytime the gaffer comes downstairs and calls me over, I know he's found another problem...and my stress level increases a little more.

I know I'm being ridiculous and all the disruption will be worth it in the end, but my poor old heart can't stand much more! Conversely, my partner has her nose buried in catalogues and websites, tracking down a bargain shower here and realistically priced flooring there and embracing the challenge of it all. While I freeze like a rabbit in the headlights, overwhelmed by the chaos around me, she (to paraphrase an ex-President) has the vision thing - and I'm grateful for it.

Meanwhile, back at Thornley Manor, our favourite bunch of builders, barred from the only pub in the village by Arthur Pringle the landlord, settle down to watch a video.......

Time's Running Out the Door You're Running In