Blog
Autumn
by StornowayFriday November 4, 2011 Comment
After a much-enjoyed last show of the year in a giant slaughterhouse in Paris, I returned home to a scattering of yellow leaves among the junk mail. On a trip out to Otmoor today gangs of marauding tits were revealed within their scantily-clad hedgerows while the cows pock-marked the newly softened meadows. Gunfire from the military range next-door punctured the soft hush of wind through barbed wire, and men floated down from a circling bomber like jellyfish. Up in Shotover the horses had their coats on and weak afternoon sunlight filtered through the sycamores revealing a lone Shaggy Parasol opening above the leaf litter. Tonight we have corn on the cob, and FIRE! I can’t believe its dark already.
Love Brian
A Trip Away
by RobMonday October 3, 2011 Comment
Taking a break and going far, far away from normal life is pretty essential in my eyes. I’ve just returned from New York; a city that I think sits very comfortably in the list of places that I would count as “far, far away”.
I had a very strange afternoon in the city last week, maybe it was the heat, who knows.
I was standing on the sidewalk trying to figure out how to get home and approached this guy to ask for directions
I listen in as he jabbered on about this and that, spluttering through a mouth full of teeth. He pointed a claw and I followed his direction.
By the time I saw these two I was already pretty much lost for good in the city, no idea of the way home
I’m not one to ignore the fact that asking for directions is the fastest way to get somewhere, so I had no problem asking this ladder if he could help
He gestured towards the other side of the street, to an acquaintance of his
I ended up having a shouting match with this wall, it was very difficult to hear over the sound of the bustling traffic
I was once again passed on to another character whom the wall said it knew
There’s no denying that this hydrant was frustrated with its inability to get away from me.
Before I could even ask for help it erupted into an argument with a nearby street sign
From across the street I heard this thing screaming as it scampered around the corner, so I followed
As I rounded the corner away from the commotion I was glad to be greeted by this trolley who assured me that I wasn’t far from home.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about” was this one’s response
“I wish I could help you Mr.”
Suddenly, there it was! Home! I picked up pace as I passed this alleyway
and avoided these teeth
before darting inside leaving this guy screaming all kinds of rubbish out on the street.
fireworks and the vanity / circuitboard and the city streets
by OllieThursday September 1, 2011 Comment
Hi, I like Bright Eyes now. I’ve been listening to The People’s Key for a few weeks to inform a new lyric-writing style I’m trying, that’s all about brevity and mystery. 7 years ago the drummer in my first band had a hardcore Oberst obsession, and tried in vain to convince me. He’d quote their lyrics in rehearsals; he spoke of his own drumming:
“I lifted one foot to cross the other and I felt myself slipping. It was a small mistake. Sometimes that is all it takes. Now I’m staring at my wrist, hoping that the timing is right.”
…and he’d go up to people in the street to say: “Thank you Stranger, for your therapeutic smile.”
I was so deep in awe of blues music that year, I had no time for anything more modern than 1957. Growing up in South Africa I’d not been introduced to much older Western music and I was doing my catchup. As with most first-band brews, the ingredients of influences spun a huge spectrum as we all brought different favourites to the table. At one chaotic house party we covered Joy Division, Foxes!, Bonzo Dog Doodah and Prince.
Having dismissed them at the time, seeing Bright Eyes at a festival this summer was the best kind of second chance I could have. This is some pattern – I hear a band in a moment of divided attention, and lose what they’re about, only to rediscover later that they’re geniuses. tUnE-YarDs’ single Bizness didn’t hit me so hard the first time, then I saw THIS which freaked with my mind and changed my view entirely. Now I love them for their loopy.
Bright Eyes at the festival was insane because of the clouds, the cloaked record-hurling antics, and the intensity of a crowd awaiting Fleet Foxes. The wyrdness got to me. Now I’m touched by lines like “…dressed in white, touched by something pure; death-obsesed like a teenager”
i/o
the flugelhorn has sounded
by JonathanWednesday April 20, 2011 Comment
…and we are back from our second brief sprint around the continent. our faithful squeaking chariot, so ably steered along winding roads, cobbled streets and past prang-prone-parisian drivers, is resting her weary wheels for a couple of weeks’ respite.
after pretending to be an nine-headed statue in rome, shovelling down a metre of pizza in milan and rambling through the green forests near heidelberg, we edged our way towards the smallest country on our tour (luxembourg) with the largest venue (the rokhall) and somehow unwittingly turning ourselves into a projector screen for a football game in hamburg (bayer leverkson v st. pauli). and then, just as last time, we were bowled over once more by berlin’s gaudy eccentricity. by turns grand and dilapidated, classical and kitsch, berlin was once the backdrop to the so-called “the end of history” twenty years ago and now it’s as if the 20th century exploded here all at once…but it seems to wear its past lightly with an ostalgic sense of humour. it wasn’t all sweetness and light though: on the day we left, some shady bedroom sniper kid shot a bb pellet into oli’s elbow in the street! don’t worry he’s fine (more or less).
we were briefly joined during our escapade by a rambunctious wolfshund called yeti; she preferred to travel in convoy and dragged two of her finest human friends along to a few german shows. although yeti wasn’t permitted entry into every venue, she was our most vocal supporter by some measure. we also enjoyed having some great musical support in the form of flieder at the theatre palace in st. gallen and a band called john grape at the café de la danse in paris. speaking of paris, here’s a little polaroid snap taken that night by someone or other.
if you look closely, you will see that adam is in fact holding another polaroid of us in his hand, and within that polaroid adam is holding an almost identical polaroid of us in his hand, and within that polaroid adam is holding an almost identical polaroid of us in his hand etc. x 283. it took a very long time to set this up, so hopefully you will appreciate every pixel. failing which, you could try some of the photos over here.
happy spring!
back from the other side of the floating orb...
by JonathanWednesday February 16, 2011 Comment
…and I’m wondering why the day keeps starting at 4am…? doesn’t make any sense in australian time either.
even before a visit from the characters in the portrait above, it’s safe to say australia had been having a pretty rough summer. as if the brisbane flood weren’t enough to give us slight jitters before we left home, we first heard about yasi – the “monster cyclone” that had just begun to bedevil australia’s north-eastern coast – just as we boarded the plane to brisbane. the perth bushfire hadn’t yet taken hold. of course none of these freakish acts of nature affected our trip, but as the air turbulence resumed its juddering, it was pretty easy to imagine that we were heading directly into the eye of the storm. nothing like a good old irrational panic when you’re stuck in a large piece of metal a few thousand feet up in the sky, hm?
anyway, saint jerome did us proud and we feel lucky to have been invited to the laneways party. aside from that music/performance thing we did, one of the best bits of the trip down under was getting to see deerhunter play not once but three times (the finest of which was at the billboard in melbourne), as well as menomena, autouto and yeasayer . all truly i.n.s.p.i.r.i.n.g.
the only fly in the ointment was in sydney when, despite being under a canopy of cloud, we somehow morphed into a band of cooked lobsters after just a couple of hours on bondi beach, without even noticing it was happening. with our annandale gig being mere hours away! for this cruel indignity we wanted to sue the hole in the ozone layer. later, when the brain emulsification had slowed down a bit and some thought processes returned, a feverish debate ensued as to how we could best work the lights to avert the impression of sunburnt poms (how vane, you might think). we even considered playing in complete darkness, but then remembered that this might be slightly pointless or frightening, depending which way you look at it. in the event, no-one seemed to notice anyway. at least until brian mentioned it onstage.
i have posted some new pictures from the tour, the last tour and from actual real life on flickr. some of them were taken through cling film and some of them were taken at gunpoint. also, in case you’re interested, a few words i wrote about richard thompson a while back have been posted by the kind fellows at wewritelists.