monday arvo
grey clouds
its turned cold again
my lovely shaped red nose is freezin’
my manicured tapered magicians fingers are freezin’
my so so feet are freezin’
my well toned butt is freezin’
(if you aint seen it, dont scoff)
i read yessadays comments about triffids
sure enough mccomb comes on shuffle
grant will be along any moment now
probly followed by church
and theres a message in there
i dont want to interpret
muse: oh lord youre a hypochondriac yeblik
yeah yeah
same as it ever was
a master and a fool i remain
strangely the next song following mccomb
was
ethereal message
by hex
im serious here
what do i make of that?
ethereal message
this is happening as i write
like tarot cards turning up intentionality
something links me to the shuffle
down down down feathers in the air
down down down everywhere sings donnette
the birth of trip hop i read someone wrote about this record
completist must have i would have thought
contains some of my nicest pieces of music
i was proud of this record
sneaking into some big studio trying to mix it
this was 1988 and i was recognizable in new york
dont let the manager see you
or he’ll know who you are
and i’ll get into trouble
says bryce the wonderful engineer
who mixed this record
you see
he was allowed to bring his friends in to do demos
but we shoulda been paying
but i couldnt really afford it
it says mixed at “gambit” studios
a gambit is a risk or small loss for hope of gain in future(chess)
the next song on my shuffle is spark
i kid thee not
what does that mean?
am i to be spared?
anyway one night real late
the manager of studios comes in
and im acting like one of bryces friends
doing a demo
and the dude doesnt even know me from adam
and we talk n he clicks the remote
and the tv comes on
mtv that is
and blow me down gently
but theres me plastered all over the screen
singing reptile
the manager looks at me
the screen
the screen
me
hes shaking his head
i get up n disappear into studio
the dude says nothing
goes home
never mentions it to bryce again….
the next song on shuffle is crystal set
but its one with philthy maher singing
walk away
love like amphetamines keepsa hittin’ her sings philthy
oh wow
how like shes grinding her teeth n needs to urinate frequently
she has blurred vision n shaky hands n no saliva in her gob
now how weird was that trio of songs
people i have 13,000 songs in my little poddle
what are the chances of them 3 coming up
next up was some krautrock
then some blue nile easter parade
oh what a weary lovesick fool the singer is
his chasing love has left him exhausted
like all romeos eventually they run out of puff
trying to keep all those plates spinning at once
one woman or a hundred
the singer always returns empty handed n world weary
each lover says to himself
i will pursue love all the way this time
i will write songs predicting how this love will last n last
but it doesnt, does it?
maybe a few months
maybe a few tours
what is it these singers are really in love with
they are in love with being in love
they are in love with love itself
love love love love love
all the dreamy crooners
all the melancholy men intoning their lack of love
love has gone
love has fled
took my baby
took my head
love does everything in songs fiendss
it lies bleeding
its a stranger in a black sedan
it looks like a window
it closes like a door
love tears people apart
love brings em together
all the mistresses n sugar daddies
all the tarts n breadheads
all sweethearts n gentlemen visitors
all the singers n their songs
love jumps over tall buildings( in a single bound!)
and it works at a tobacconists on oxford street
it delivers mail on tuesdays
and it deals speed at a bar on 7th ave
love wears lovely clothes and looks good naked
love turn ya into a lemming
love makes you stupid and intense
idiot love will spark confusion
…..but love is not loving
a man loves his mother
his sisters
his wives
his daughters
his grandaughters
a man loves his food n beer
a man loves his mates who drink beer n watch the footy with him
not this man
i dont do that
no one has ever asked me to
but from what ive seen of it
it dont appeal to me
a bunch of drunken yobs yelling at a tv set
gee…whats wrong with me
i have to spoil everything dont i?
boy
when i think of englishmen beer n soccer
i feel like a hare among a bunch of mastiffs
or a bunch of american olde boys watching gridiron
or aussie oafs glued to the rugby n their tinny
look
i can think of few things worse
finally now
right at the end of this blogge
old flame comes on the shuffle
short n sweet
the way it should be
beware
an old flame is still burning there baybee
ha!