Floating, perhaps signifying.

I: Rock my Boat

I saw Tina this week, with James and Katja, for a Wagamama lunch on Tuesday, for perhaps the first time in 2 years? It's difficult to lose good friends, and it takes a long time to truly accept it when it happens. I was very happy to see her, and on Saturday we'll go see The Bays. My frame of heart and mind is all the better for the reunion, although it threw me that evening. It improved further last night, with Chelsea's emphatic win over Real Betis, watching with Helen in an Islington pub.

Another lunch out today, a ‘creative dept’ welcome to Paul, Gabriel, and Steph. Really enjoyable, but an event demonstrating the conflict of interests of our kinda work - the good fortune to work with a really talented, commited and warm bunch of people, but constrained, meddled with or tainted by the misfortune of working for the man. I guess at least he paid for the lunch.

On my TV, I survey the visual feast of Dan Cruikshanks' journey Around the World in 80 Treasures. It puts it all into (some kind of) perspective: Elephant blessings in Madurai, and advanced astrological science in Jaipur. An astrolabe that dates back to the 15th Century, and a vast, and comparatively modern (250 year-old) sundial, constructed on a roof, resembling a grandiose, abstract Serra sculpture, styled by Lamborghini. On to the great mausoleum of the Taj Mahal, inlaid jewels and mottled marble. Inspirational images from India, a sense of human society at a definitive peak, an unbridled passion for meaning, an appetite for an elevated existence... and all in the name of Islam.

I catch a snatch of the news, and how these images contrast with the shattered buildings in the mountains of Kashmir, after the quake. The is followed by Horizon, a 3D/effects driven trip to Titan, Saturns largest moon, who's thick atmosphere resembles that of the Earth some 4 million years ago... Soild as a rock, another reminder of the fickle nature of creation, the frailty of existence.

II: Rock my Plimsoll

And now it's 4 hours later... some would say the evening degenerated the moment I read Fentons text, reminding me The Kills are playing at The Forum. With the Titan documentary barely begun, Jake and I quickly determine to march there in double-time necking a beer. Been a long time since I felt the riff of the feedback, the aura of the overdrive-electric... a gig high on arty-pretention, and in a suitably Lynchian setting to boot.

It was more a performance than a gig. Cool-expressionist 8-lamp lightshow, minimal stage set and micro-movement. The guitarist fairly frozen in the midst of a burlesque bayonet drill, like a Bargeld / Knack fugitive. Starched white shirt, black tie, drainpipes - the axe hero I never was. A svelt, near-anorexic vocalist in a stripey stretch-dress, raven hair combed forward, doing the Polly Harvey blues stance… and when she finally threw her head back she was coll-eyed and gaunt, like a gravedigger in the rain. Rock'n'Roll.

Now home. Campfire Headphase is playing, and I’m floating, paradoxically hammered and buzzing, in the void between creation and contrition.

original text 21.10.05
edited and published 27.10.05
oops!

Lost and Found, again

A weekend past, not as drunkenly as the last, West Ended to death, Soho-sodden, debauched. No, this one was more disciplined, certain transactions aside... and yet somehow the restraint that shaped the best part of the weekend came undone at the eleventh hour. 5 hours of gastro-boozing at The Alma in Newington Green with Dave B, Matty Dread, Miriam and Helen. Always a treat to be reunited, this time more precious than most. A lot of laughter, some bright ideas, and a mad lil' DJ session at Daves to close proceedings.

A thankfully mellow day at the office, dear, and spent this evening reflecting on the new Boards album, and simultaneously perusing Channel 4's Lost website... another gem stamped with the ethereal gloss-doc sheen of a Hi-Res project. Indeed the Boards would be a pretty good soundtrack to Lost, although it seems I'm one of the few that hasn't yet seen a complete episode.

Music speaks volumes that words can't relate... Enough already, I was just kinda checkin' in, just so you know I'm staying at the same place, same room, same motel, same street. Plenty of positives, if only I could tame or collate them... Matt departs to India soon, and Dave looks good, more congenial than at times, just doing his thing and doing it well. We talked about a spontaneous Routemaster party on the eve of its demise, but it probably won't happen. The most important thing is that the evening energised and lifted me. Sweet.