Monthly Archives: November 2009

There went November

Well everyone, I notice it’s nearly time to start thinking legitimately about Christmas. Once again, time has gone by without me doing a great deal of blogging, and a lot of the blogging I did do was negative rather than positive.

Mainly, as those of you who know me are aware, I’ve been busy with my new academic life. In fact, I’ve started a new blog up as part of the LitSciMed group over on wordpress, which can be found here. This has nothing to do with music and many fewer jokes than this blog – in fact, all it will have in common with this blog is that it’s barely ever going to be updated.

Not all of my resources have been directed this way. I have taken a new song (‘Life in the Slow Lane’) on a couple of live outings, and another one, as yet untitled, is in the late stages of writing. At the conceptual level a large number of songs and, indeed, albums exist – alongside stories, books, magazines and videos (the next episode of fOwl is due in a few weeks and I think you’re going to really like it). I’m almost certain that you’ll be hearing FaceOmeter collaborations with Sam Taplin, ROFL Harris and Roxy Brennan within a few months.

And of course on Wednesday there’s a gig with Ish Marquez and Triple Rosie, mentioned previously! So there’s plenty on the cards to entertain you. Come and enjoy.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go and have some soup and do some singing in Roxy’s equivalent of the Hectic Eclectic Folk Choir. The new Mountain Parade album is being produced downstairs, and it’s sounding good!


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The Sporadic Bonus

Well, everyone, it’s been centuries between posts again. But I just returned from an evening in Witney with Sam Taplin, and it occurs to me that I have yet to detail for future generations these incredible evenings and the positive effects they have on me. Here, for the record, is a happenstance. It may or may not get turned into a song called ‘A Happenstance’:

We were walking along a dark lane from Sam’s cottage to my car. “Look”, said Sam. “The moon.”

I cast my eyes aloft, and there she was. “Ah yes”, I started to say, but was interrupted when I placed my foot into a very large puddle, entirely immersing my non-waterproof shoe.

“There it all is”, remarked Sam, as I spluttered around in the darkness. At which we both started laughing.

You may not think there’s a whole song in that, but we beg to differ.

82% of the laughs I’ve had this year that have gone above ‘chortle’ have been in the presence of Sam, and if you haven’t yet investigated him online, I urge you to do so.

Good times 4eva!


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Self-and-others-promotion

So there’s a show coming up pretty soon – the Gardener’s Arms on Plantation Road in Oxford, home of the famous “thai curry gig” of last June, will be paying host to myself, Triple Rosie and most excitingly of all Ish Marquez, who is stopping by for an acoustic evening as part of the UK tour he’s doing with Lizzie and the boys!

It will be an unplugged show, and consequently extremely nice! The standard of all the acts will be almost literally unbelievable! The entrance fee will be a feeble three english pounds! It starts at 8:30ish! On Wednesday, Dec 2nd! Any questions? No? Good.

I even made a facebook event, that’s how good I think this show will be. Come along if you dare.

http://www.myspace.com/ishmarquez
http://www.myspace.com/triplerosie
http://www.myspace.com/faceometer


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A conclusion?

For those of you following my “week of horror” saga, hopefully that last cycle ride – through high winds and driving night rain, and from which I emerged looking as if I’d jumped in the Thames – puts a fitting capstone on the nightmare. Friday the 13th is over. Tomorrow I’m all about exciting new things. My ginger spirit takes more than a simple rain storm to suppress.

I’m churning out new concepts for hot art. Some of it’s even gonna get made. FaceOmeter is where it’s at, idiots. One ginger brummie, alone in the world, attempting to keep it fresh.


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Things keeping me sane right now

  • The misreadability of this headline
  • A lovely dinner with my wonderful housemates
  • The stories of Sam Taplin
  • The tune Watch her Disappear by Tom Waits
  • Being ensconced in my car
  • Tea breaks with Lisa

I may be having a terrible time right now, but I’m still so lucky in general. PEACE TO ALL MY WICKED HOMIES YO

That was a Lars reference.


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Hrrrrknh

I’m nervous about blogging on this subject because I’m concerned it will paint an unrepresentative picture of this era in my life when future-me takes a moment to glance back through the entries of yore and smile wryly at his foolish past. Future-me: life is generally totally wonderful right now.

But my God, it’s been a totally shit day. I have a vague feeling that saying this to the internet will make it better in some way. Today, for those still with me, struck a bold new balance between the “one VERY shit thing happening” and “lots of QUITE shit things happening” models by having lots-of-things-which-are-not-quite-VERY-shit-but-significantly-worse-than-QUITE-shit happen. And, as is the case with all truly shit days, significantly over 80% of the shitness has been my fault.

But not exclusively mine! I’d like to take a moment to thank “Mysterious Bodleian Asshat Man” for being the only thing about today worse than me myself. There I was, enjoying a homemade sandwich in an alcove of the Clarendon Building (to hide from rain) and he comes up and tells me (nb. “tells”. As after the manner of one who owns the place*) to dismount. Among the many things he did not have were a Bod card, a reason (believe me when I tell you this is not a building I could damage even if I wanted to), and, which is worse, a civil attitude. I was too “on the phone” to enter into full discourse with this fellow, but if he’s reading this – mate. You’re an asshat.

Also today I’ve been upset by some people, and have myself upset more. All unintentionally. And I read an article in the library twice without noticing until I came to file my notes. Glad I got that off my chest. Some research student I am. I’m going to bed.

*It occurs to me that maybe he did own the place. Well… still an asshat.


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