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August 29, 2004
roadrunner
The latest issue of Les Inrockuptibles come with a “50 years of rock” CD. Though it doesn’t seem to cover 50 years at all, I enjoy the tracklist, featuring:
1. The Modern Lovers
2. Love
3. The Velvet Underground
4. Buzzcocks
5. The Feelies
6. Young Marble Giants
7. The Last Poets
8. ESG
9. Boards Of Canada
10. Felt
11. Nick Drake
12. Scott Walker
13. Brian Eno
14. Lee Hazlewood
15. Sun Ra
I try to think of what I would have put instead of Boards of Canada to segue between ESG (You’re no good) and Felt (Penelope tree). Stockholm Monsters maybe, or a slow one from Unrest, I don’t know really. This sunday morning, “Why” from Slumber Party. It depends how I feel. I love playing around with iTunes playlists, for this reason.
One memory clenches my heart when I think about it. My parents had an old wooden turntable furniture piece that we called the pick-up. It was in the basement, next to our playroom. I was 5, then 6 and 7 and always listened sitting on the floor, my head against one speaker. I liked the ones I couldn’t understand the lyrics of, but mostly I liked the french version of “These boots are made for walking”, it was so powerful, so evocative. In hindsight I can say it made me travel forward in time, in a time where I could fall in love and wear big boots, stomp, stomp. My favourite music has always been the songs, be it the music or words or both, that made me feel about so much more going on, proofs of so much more being possible.
And I often feel I sound silly when I talk about the music I really love. So I never managed to write record reviews, though I admire people who go on and on about music (thinking of The war against silence closing down). I do try to write songs. Here is my latest one, set to the chords of “Walking with Jesus” - an affectionate, cautionary tale, mix of many influences.
—-
Fallen trees
Makes me so sad
But driving drunk
Into a tree
Babe, it just drives me mad
Here…
Here it comes
Here comes the sound
Hey, ho, what’s that sound?
——
Posted by nathalie at 11:36 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
August 21, 2004
a sentimental journey
I finally got to see the man who lives in the derelict house next to me. I was sitting in the stairs and he was going down his. We were close enough not to have to yell, though in previously imagined circumstances we had to. He said hello and I asked, what’s going on. “Taking out the trash… a sentimental journey!”
I never really experienced love at first sight, only sometimes I get the auditive equivalent. But I wasn’t sure I heard him right, and realized my infatuation, if it was due to pursue, could very well be based on nothing but a mishearing. I imagined myself explaining this to him, many months from now, he’s laughing in my arms. In turns he tells me about his sentimental trash - pieces of an old computer, or relics from highschool… As all these thoughts occur to me of course I forget to continue the conversation; he soon has reached the alley to dispose of his plastic bags.
And so it went. I walked back inside to listen to music, lyrics in portuguese so I can mishear all I want, and wondered why I was born so shy.
Posted by nathalie at 07:15 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
August 17, 2004
ma planche de salut
link - i love the look of this, a balmy treat for opened eyes! and the
chapatiwocky, for rumbling stomachs! what else is nice? work experiments induced by a sore throat, and a night of dreaming that i have a sore throat yet still i can fly… « look! », fluttering feverishly my arms, to lamentable results.
anyway after the dreams, i came to work, where i conducted the experiment briefly alluded to above; can one anesthesizes one’s throat with large amounts of hot coffee? i still don’t know! still working on it! there is no music here, nothing but silence, and the faint whirling of heavy machineries, somewhere, might be my heart too, a little too pumped up. i would like to listen again to the new arcade fire LP, to be certain of my feelings towards it. arcade fire are a local band led by two texans in exile (do we say houstinite like we say montrealite?) producing epic indie music of the kind we haven’t seen nor heard of since the last montreal exports. but this song, rebellion! is quite nice, and make me long for the days when you could find the no-vocals version on the B-side of your favourite single.
i also wish there was a no-sports version of the olympics, with just country leaders signing peace treaties, wearing crowns of thorns and not minding if a little blood is staining their cheeks, because that is the price of love. also no bjork, but – you see it coming - einar orn, adding his grain of salt all through the ceremonies, « maaaaan..has turneeeed..into MACHIIINE! aaah! no, no, NO!! » etc.
ugh…this isn’t einar imaginary singing to me, it is my boss’ inceasing yelps to the troups, and it doesn’t hold a candle, nor brings much in terms of relief, uneasiness, motivation.
Posted by nathalie at 11:46 AM | Comments (4) | TrackBack
August 03, 2004
culture of fear VS your unspeakable beauty
No breaking news yet. The rain just won’t stop! I have arranged piles of folders into protective folding screens where I can not work and have no one see. I’m tired of surfing the Internet; I feel comforted knowing that for every little thing, there is somebody taking care of it, but for now I just wish my workday would go by, with no looking at a screen. Much like everyone, I would just like to be home with shoes off, a drink, a book (I went to bed way past my bedtime yesterday as I read the »Found book from start to end) and a grumpy and joyful cat, just like me. That reminds me - Chomi! Last weekend, my cat has come back from her several-weeks holiday in the country. She certainly missed me, but she preserves the mystique by acting utterly indifferent. I often think, what is this cat waiting for ruling over the world. Since she had not seen my new apartment yet, I expected her to hide under the bed for a day or two, but no – she followed me around with insistence, asking for every closet, every floor-level cupboard to be opened, inspected. She soon realized there was nothing threatening to be found anywhere, boredom may still lurk, but so is life – and she started whistling.
If whistling were allowed at work, I know what I would be whistling! Summertime, the best Galaxie 500 song, to chase all this rain away, and bring back, not sun, but something else; night, city lights. Apparently there is a live version of this on the DVD. Work is so slow! Half-price personality assessments, two-for-one deals, will anyone come..? I would love a nap.