it happens for a reason

staying up late is easy.

Monday, July 03, 2006

LISTENING SINCE THE PREVIOUS POST:

KSR BURDEN- '430 WEST PRESENTS 'BACK TO THE RHYTHM''
NOZE- 'HOW TO DANCE'
ASSORTED DROSS ON TOP OF THE POPS (INCLUDING PAULO 'NEW LOW FOR POP MUSIC' NUTINI).
THE NEW ROBBIE WILLIAMS ALBUM (HEARD AT WORK)
DJ SHEEN MIX
V/A- 'SUPERLONGEVITY'
NORTH AFRICAN POP ACCOMPANYING BELLY DANCERS AT THE BRITISH MUSEUM.
KEITH FULLERTON WHTMAN- 'PLAYTHROUGHS'
CHAMILLIONAIRE- 'RIDIN DIRTY (UGK MIX)'
LEMONRED HOUSTON HIPHOP MIX
RAY'S JAZZ @ 'RAY'S JAZZ', FOYLES.
LUMINFIRE- 'SEQUIN AMBROSIA' MIX
DERRICK MAY- 'STRINGS OF LIFE'

i was talking about getting a haircut a few days ago, remember? course you don't. that would be insane.
but anyway, i did get my haircut. and yesterday i passed the place where i had got it done, and they were only banging out 'strings of life' at massive volume! what cool fucks. i felt honoured to have given them my custom.

except, when i was in there, they put on that new red hot chili peppers album, which is as wretched as i expected, although that hippy's guitar playing is indeed pretty nice. but- anthony keidis: voice like a punch in the spine.

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oh and some weirdo put on the whole of the new robbie williams album when i was at work. nutters. it's so bad it makes yr jaw ache. but, pleasingly, there's a real lack of pop tones on there...which i guess is why this album hasn't given rise to songs of the kind of cultural hegemony that he's used to (which is why i'm pleased). robbie williams' songs used to be everywhere. coming from passing cars, played in shops, sung by drunks in pubs. now, people buy the album, listen to it a few times, and that is that. to reprise a recent theme, the songs have gone from the public space into the private space.

this album, despite being a massive success, marks the end of robbie williams' career, i think. it's an album that people have bought out of a sense of duty, or even just out of the sense that it's become a kind of 'done thing' to get his latest releases. and so, millions upon millions have bought it. but i don't get the impression that they've fallen in love with it, or even like it that much.

and next time around, mark my words robbie, the public will not be so kind. the honeymoon period only lasts for one album that doesn't provide the necessary tunes for people to sing along to in their daily lives. he'll be back to playing butlins before he knows it (the liklihood of him doing the graceful, honourable thing of disappearing from the public gaze is brilliantly small, since he crazes and needs publicm attention to a pathological degree).

so, something to look forward to?
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yesterday was a disjointed and unsuccessul day as far as music was concerned. obstacles lay wherever i turned. a stiflingly hot, languid sunday...somehow the only thing that seemed right to listen to was a compilation of east african pop made for me by a person called Joe in exchange for some grime tapes. there were lots of slow, treacley songs on there about getting pissed on palm wine. a great compilation. so, this was ALL i wanted to hear. but i couldn't find it. tearing through the shelves of CDs and boxes of CDs in frustration, i still couldn't unearth it. i resigned myself to silence, and resolved, as so often before, to finally, rationalise my record collection.
so, if yr reading this Joe- i'm sorry. i don't know where it is, but yr compilation was a gem.

the afternoon brought a trip to Foyles, after the seeing the tremendous exhibition of Islasmic calligraphy at the British Museum. i've never been to the cafe in Foyles before, but god it's lovely! it situated to one side of Ray's Jazz, a shop within a shop, and you get to stare out onto the Borders opposite and congratulate yrself on being right-on and not throwing yr lot in with the evil (?) corporate giants and their buckets of starbucks slop.

gazing out over london slowly melting into the tarmac, i felt this really strong, sudden, desire to listen to Art Tatum. once again, it seemed like the only thing that would do. and, with ray's jazz right next to me, now seemed a perfect time to stock up on some art tatum records (all my tapes are up north, in the place of my birth).
but then. i realised i was wearing a trilby, partly out of an attempt to keep the sun off me, and partly out of a burgeoning obsession with Geoffrey Boycott. and, obviously, you just can't go and buy jazz records while wearing a trilby. to do so would be to present yrself as an object of (justiafiable) utter hatred from your fellow man. not to mention the feelings of self loathing.
and so, no art tatum.

another failure.

then my stereo spat out the new Hot Chip album, refusing even to consider playing it.

exhausted, i stick on keith fullerton whitman's sine-zen masterpiece 'playthroughs' and go to sleep.

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