Hot Dog Trolls

Bloomin' Brilliant

Penelope Stamp: [drunk] I think you're constipated.

Bloom: Constipated?

Penelope Stamp: Yeah. You're constipated. In your fucking soul. I think there is a great, humongous wad of poop up your soul's ass.

Grunge is Dead

From epic

to trashy populist dance music

Why Cornell? WHY?

Most irregular

"...She owns the fine house by the rise of the bank,
She hides handsome and richly drest aft the blinds of the window.

Which of the young men does she like the best?
Ah the homeliest of them is beautiful to her.

Where are you off to, lady? for I see you,
You splash in the water there, yet stay stock still in your room.

Dancing and laughing along the beach came the twenty-ninth bather,
The rest did not see her, but she saw them and loved them.

The beards of the young men glisten'd with wet, it ran from their long hair,
Little streams pass'd all over their bodies.

An unseen hand also pass'd over their bodies,
It descended tremblingly from their temples and ribs.

The young men float on their backs, their white bellies bulge to the sun, they do not ask who seizes fast to them,
They do not know who puffs and declines with pendant and bending arch,
They do not think whom they souse with spray."**

**Walt Whitman, Song of Myself, Section 11

If wishes were horses…

…Patti Smith would have had an alternate name for her 1975 debut album. Haha. Ha. Ha. Hmm.



I wish I’d pursued music in a bigger way. I wish I’d taken guitar classes when I was a lot younger, and not when I was twenty. Once I’d finally got down to taking those lessons, I wish I’d stuck to them longer, and I wish I’d taken them more seriously. I wish I’d spent more time figuring out those damned staff notations than discussing The Smashing Pumpkins with my very talented classical guitar tutor L. I also wish I’d spent less time staring at my other guitar tutor, Y, with misty love sick eyes, and focused more on the scales and chord progressions he very disinterestedly tried to teach me. I could tell he had other plans, and that he really didn’t intend to do this for the rest of his life. Perhaps he dreamed of being in a band, making it big etc. Maybe he did. I don’t think I’ll ever really find out.

I remember nothing of what he taught me now. I do remember the frequent clandestine cigarette breaks he’d take, the conspicuous smell that would creep into the room thereafter, and the smell on his breath when he’d lean in and show me how to hold a particular chord on my guitar. Sigh. No wonder I never got around to really learning much.

I did play the guitar lots on my own after that. I still do, every now and then. More because I enjoy singing along, than anything else. I wish I’d done something with that. Now I’m just a solitary recreational musician, and I think I give myself too much credit by even calling myself that.

Sometimes, I really wish I’d been in a band. Not for the purpose of fame or money or fans or RS reviews and critical acclaim (Though that wouldn’t be all that bad either). I’d have liked to be in a Pavement kind of band, or The Pixies, for that matter – relatively unheard of, no claims to exceptional talent, not exactly universally palatable, but unique, and abstruse and honest. It would have been amazing to be reckoned brilliant only by a few lonely indie kids, who’d grant meaning to even the most inane of lyrics. Then, about a decade later, the band could have been hailed by every critic that mattered as exceptional musical genius, and new age alt rock bands could have cited it as their greatest musical influence ever. Haha. If wishes were horses...

Brit Beat

So i'm back.

I decided not to do that Oasis Dig out your soul review. Everything there is to say about the album (and there isn't much to say, really) is summed up quite neatly in January's Rolling Stone. The album is formulaic and there is nothing new at offer. It is eminently listenable though, and Oasis fans are sure to love it. Yawn. I think the lads should learn a lesson in experimentation from fellow Brits Coldplay. Standing on the Shoulders of Giants was a brilliant album for the very reason that Oasis for once, broke their mould and tried something different. I, for one, would love to hear them do something like that again. Speaking of music from the British Isle, I do recommend The Verve's fourth album, Forth (what ingenuity in selection of the album title, I say. Pure genius. Sheee.) Love is Noise is a brilliant number, and has the same haunting quality as Bitter Sweet Symphony. I'm also quite taken by the fact that the lyrics of the song are William Blake inspired (I'm a lit geek. these things impress me.) The rest of the album is a bit of an acquired taste (but then so was Urban Hymns, and what a phenomenal album that was). It took me a couple of listens before I was truly hooked to the album. Another band i've been quite taken by off late is The Kooks. I've been hearing the Konk album a lot of late, and i must say, the Brighton boys have a knack for coming up with some killer hooks. I can't quite put my finger on what it is, but in some odd way The Kooks remind of the The Kinks. More on that once i've got it figured out. Later then.

Overload

yes, so i've been procrastinating and can't remember the last time i sat down and wrote a real post but thats how things are going to be for a while now keeping in mind exams begin in two weeks but I do, however, intend to do a review for Oasis' Dig Out Your Soul very very soon and in the mean time, heres the song thats been helping me keep awake while i read Chaucer and Milton and Porcupine Tree says the music of the future will not entertain and that its only meant to repress and neutralise your brain and that the soul gets squeezed out and the edges get blunt but i think, i do really, that sometimes, its ok to be completely meaningless as long as you're happy and kurt are you listening? you should be here.