Unreliable information since 1972
I’ve taken more imaginative shots, but I like the way this came out.
In other news, I deeply fucked off with myself. I’ve just gone through a whole card of gig photos to discover that they’re all so noise-saturated that they’re basically unusable. I’m going to take a shot at saving a few of them, but I’m not optimistic.
Been meaning to say:
I’ve a stack of photos waiting for me to spend a few hours weeding through them and muttering “They’re all shit! Shit!”, but until I do, I urge you all to go look at ![[info]](http://stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
ara_maye‘s photos.
Because, you know, they’re a bit good.
I’ll be back later.
Pop Comedy: Mr Fab’s endearingly daft “Cannibal Zombie Mom“. The rest of the album Bride of Monster Mashup is a mixed bag, but worth a look. “Satan.Omen.Death” is something quite special, as well, in fact. Someone has managed to make Diamanda Galas work in a mashup with Manowar, something I would not have thought possible…
Drum ‘n’ Bass : Dead Silence.
Retro Radio: From BoingBoing, 31 Old Radio Show Horror Stories.
When I realised that it’s been a long while I listened to Lush. Used to have them on cassette, never got around to getting CDs. All Emusic’ve got is the 2001 “Best Of” album, but it’ll do for right now…
And I’m parked at my desk, bored out of my mind fighting with yet another bloody spreadsheet. Trapped in a fucking New Town on the river between Chelsea and Wandsworth. Autumn has muscled its damp and miserable way in, seemingly overnight. The sky out the window behind me is a dishwater grey, throwing insipid spatters of dirty rain down, the Thames is reflecting it all back like a ribbon of apathy, and all buildings around here are the identikit modern flats they’re throwing up along the riverside.
And yet:
“Let’s run away and be so alive
Escape the drudgery of this nine to five
Shake, baby, shake, you know I can fit you in my arms”
Anyone else planning on going to Lost Vagueness’ “Night Of The Vaguely Dead” on the 28th? Alabama 3, Last Man Standing and Urban Voodoo Machine are all playing (all of whom are at least filed under “worth seeing” if not “bloody ace”). Plus, Casino, Cabaret and costumes!
When I realised that it’s been a long while I listened to Lush. Used to have them on cassette, never got around to getting CDs. All Emusic’ve got is the 2001 “Best Of” album, but it’ll do for right now…
And I’m parked at my desk, bored out of my mind fighting with yet another bloody spreadsheet. Trapped in a fucking New Town on the river between Chelsea and Wandsworth. Autumn has muscled its damp and miserable way in, seemingly overnight. The sky out the window behind me is a dishwater grey, throwing insipid spatters of dirty rain down, the Thames is reflecting it all back like a ribbon of apathy, and all buildings around here are the identikit modern flats they’re throwing up along the riverside.
And yet:
“Let’s run away and be so alive
Escape the drudgery of this nine to five
Shake, baby, shake, you know I can fit you in my arms”
My first Londonist review, of The Pipettes at Koko last Friday is up today.
The formatting’s a little odd, but it’s up. And pleasingly, has already been tagged as “Recommended” by a couple of people, who I’m pretty sure aren’t my mother.
Douglas Rushkoff informs that Robert Anton Wilson needs financial help just to die with a little dignity.
Wilson, for those that aren’t familiar with his work, was one of the great thinkers of the twentieth century. His writing was both sharp, and wise, and the fact that he seems to be dying in penury is both sickening and sad. If you can spare a few quid, stump up, please.
Douglas Rushkoff informs that Robert Anton Wilson needs financial help just to die with a little dignity.
Wilson, for those that aren’t familiar with his work, was one of the great thinkers of the twentieth century. His writing was both sharp, and wise, and the fact that he seems to be dying in penury is both sickening and sad. If you can spare a few quid, stump up, please.
