mornin'
morning. riley is hiding under the couch with only his nose sticking out. the fan we've set on the floor in his play area is blowing back the soft white hair around his snout as he naps. ST is off at home depot getting various and sundries so that he can have a go upstairs before it gets too hot. i'm sitting here contemplating a second cup of coffee. later, i'll meet M at a new cafe she's scouted and hunker down for some more coding. i hope to finish that by the end of this month, but it's going to be a long haul. there's a lot to do and i am finding it more and more difficult to concentrate on it. thank goodness ST keeps me supplied with new and engaging music. currently, i'm obsessed with this david bowie (& friends--robert smith, dave groll, etc.) bootleg from 1997. it's a double cd inexplicably called 50 dead dogs and despite the ridiculous title i urge you to check it out. 1997 was a fine year for music--not as fine as 1996, but still.
oh, speaking of, A sent this to me last night and i thought it might amuse those of you who, like me, felt inspired (and subsequently let down) by those wailing women of the mid-nineties.
A: So, in my late night wanderings tonight across the digital landscape, I was reading this interview between these two singers that I'm kinda fascinated with right now, Ed Droste from Grizzly Bear and Owen Pallett from Final Fantasy. (They're great bands, by the way, if you haven't heard them.) They're both gay, and it was in Out Magazine. They were joking about enormous retrospective box sets, and this is how it ended... (Maybe this won't be as funny as it was in context, but it's f*cking midnight, and I'm sending it anyway, goddammit.)
Owen: Exactly. I wish you could designate the relative importance of each
album with the size of the font on the cover art. So there's a listening
order. You have an 84-point classic album that everybody should listen to,
and then you move down into these specialized extrapolations that are more
obscure and difficult. With titles in a 4-point font. Tori Amos could do
something like that.
Ed: Huh. You should talk about it with her. You should collaborate with her!
Owen: Tori Amos? I would collaborate with her in her 1996 self, for sure. A
friend of mine had a... nasty theory that Tori Amos, PJ Harvey, and Björk
all got brainwashed in 1996, and became inferior, robotic versions of their
former selves. I pointed out that in 1996, all three singers appeared on the
cover of Q magazine for the "Women of Rock" issue. He theorized that maybe
the Q magazine photographer was a catalyst in a massive misogynist plot.
Ed: That's not funny, that's mean. And I still love Björk.
Owen: And I still love PJ Harvey and Tori Amos. I said it was a nasty
theory.
Ed: Björk, call me! PJ, you can call me too, if you want.
Owen: Yeah? What about Tori?
Ed: Tori... we can instant message.
oh, speaking of, A sent this to me last night and i thought it might amuse those of you who, like me, felt inspired (and subsequently let down) by those wailing women of the mid-nineties.
A: So, in my late night wanderings tonight across the digital landscape, I was reading this interview between these two singers that I'm kinda fascinated with right now, Ed Droste from Grizzly Bear and Owen Pallett from Final Fantasy. (They're great bands, by the way, if you haven't heard them.) They're both gay, and it was in Out Magazine. They were joking about enormous retrospective box sets, and this is how it ended... (Maybe this won't be as funny as it was in context, but it's f*cking midnight, and I'm sending it anyway, goddammit.)
Owen: Exactly. I wish you could designate the relative importance of each
album with the size of the font on the cover art. So there's a listening
order. You have an 84-point classic album that everybody should listen to,
and then you move down into these specialized extrapolations that are more
obscure and difficult. With titles in a 4-point font. Tori Amos could do
something like that.
Ed: Huh. You should talk about it with her. You should collaborate with her!
Owen: Tori Amos? I would collaborate with her in her 1996 self, for sure. A
friend of mine had a... nasty theory that Tori Amos, PJ Harvey, and Björk
all got brainwashed in 1996, and became inferior, robotic versions of their
former selves. I pointed out that in 1996, all three singers appeared on the
cover of Q magazine for the "Women of Rock" issue. He theorized that maybe
the Q magazine photographer was a catalyst in a massive misogynist plot.
Ed: That's not funny, that's mean. And I still love Björk.
Owen: And I still love PJ Harvey and Tori Amos. I said it was a nasty
theory.
Ed: Björk, call me! PJ, you can call me too, if you want.
Owen: Yeah? What about Tori?
Ed: Tori... we can instant message.