Ripping Yarns

Getting ripped, gently, at home. The plan was for Brick Lane, instead I’ve been nursing a domestic broadband failure, and contemplating a degradation of other, more fundamental, domestic affairs. Calls to the help-line seem to have facilitated a resumption of DSL services. Stephen Malkmus recording (Craigs)in background, off-key lazy blues. What else, it inspired ripping some stuff via limewire, cleaning the kitchen, attempting to ventilate the flat, and oh yeah… meditations on love, the thorny spectre of commitment, sharing space, and notions of the right thing to do.

This place is home, but I’m somehow alone... More gentle discordant effects from the back room, the day bright and warm despite the low cloud. Out of nowhere comes a beautiful and reassuring sensation that everything is gonna be okay, for all of us, even if we can’t have it the way that we might want it. A lot of it is just comedown, a temporary and partly self-inflicted malaise.

Great Haywire night out Friday, courtesy of Andy W – an accomplished, extended set. Assured technique, quirky sensitivity, and a dexterity with loops and effects. The funky but distinctly psychedelic ambience followed by an ethereal dawn walk to Tower Bridge. 30 hours later there’s a sense of too much electronically, and chemically, generated hedonism.

I’m sensible, but I gotta take a little more care, in lot of ways, not just the obvious. This episode is nicely rounded off with a partial download of The Cure’s Carnage Visors, and no I’m not gonna go into the significance of that track now, save to say its the the soundtrack of a short film I saw at the Hammersmith Palais, in 1981.