tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35255565539204617082024-03-14T02:57:33.372+00:00∆TØMIC V∆LLEYCharleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09250584139891862085noreply@blogger.comBlogger108125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3525556553920461708.post-44029185294369317762011-10-22T01:38:00.004+01:002011-10-22T01:40:34.097+01:00ohhhhhhhhhhhhmillions'a dead kids<br />
askin me<br />
"what the time?" is<br />
but i dont wanna tell<br />
any body anything<br />
cause i don't wanna know<br />
any body or any thing<br />
two heads and four arms<br />
dont you know?<br />
that's two people in<br />
<br />
So i say:<br />
"anybody, anything<br />
little room<br />
all cramped in!"Charleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09250584139891862085noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3525556553920461708.post-73704626503587282742011-01-19T21:15:00.001+00:002011-07-11T06:11:09.844+01:00My problem is and will always be that I'm too RADICALCharleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09250584139891862085noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3525556553920461708.post-44622210020098346362010-06-20T21:24:00.000+01:002010-06-20T21:24:01.789+01:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_15CYpoBu2zw/TB54qL6QFrI/AAAAAAAAAV4/a9mGI4SP2Go/s1600/tumblr_l4bwzt4MkS1qamse1o1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="512" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_15CYpoBu2zw/TB54qL6QFrI/AAAAAAAAAV4/a9mGI4SP2Go/s640/tumblr_l4bwzt4MkS1qamse1o1_500.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_15CYpoBu2zw/TB54t9_JIpI/AAAAAAAAAWA/Eq3sxYqKWGQ/s1600/tumblr_l4bx3km3j11qamse1o1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="512" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_15CYpoBu2zw/TB54t9_JIpI/AAAAAAAAAWA/Eq3sxYqKWGQ/s640/tumblr_l4bx3km3j11qamse1o1_500.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>Charleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09250584139891862085noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3525556553920461708.post-44963870111988389762010-04-06T05:00:00.001+01:002010-04-06T05:20:25.662+01:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_15CYpoBu2zw/S7qwUJIIghI/AAAAAAAAAVs/tKH7wUfZsuE/s1600/tumblr_kzzcacenrN1qzbqf4o1_1280.png" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="360" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_15CYpoBu2zw/S7qwUJIIghI/AAAAAAAAAVs/tKH7wUfZsuE/s320/tumblr_kzzcacenrN1qzbqf4o1_1280.png" width="640" /></a></div><br />
I had a really intense dream about haunted houses, robots and people I haven't spoken to in forever.<br />
I can't remember what what really went down in it any more but three key things I remember were playing N64 with an old friend, living in a house that had killer robots in the basement and watching a train go past my house.Charleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09250584139891862085noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3525556553920461708.post-31747952467379155332010-03-08T21:10:00.001+00:002010-03-08T21:11:52.421+00:00chumps in love<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_15CYpoBu2zw/S5VmMdRBj-I/AAAAAAAAAVU/7QTEY6r-q3M/s1600-h/tumblr_kyknz7XNRH1qzdsv7o1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="272" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_15CYpoBu2zw/S5VmMdRBj-I/AAAAAAAAAVU/7QTEY6r-q3M/s400/tumblr_kyknz7XNRH1qzdsv7o1_500.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_15CYpoBu2zw/S5VmMdRBj-I/AAAAAAAAAVU/7QTEY6r-q3M/s1600-h/tumblr_kyknz7XNRH1qzdsv7o1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_15CYpoBu2zw/S5Vl7OMLTlI/AAAAAAAAAU0/ta522zAHIgU/s1600-h/tumblr_kyz7zrNcA91qzx0x7o1_400.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_15CYpoBu2zw/S5Vl7OMLTlI/AAAAAAAAAU0/ta522zAHIgU/s400/tumblr_kyz7zrNcA91qzx0x7o1_400.jpg" width="303" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_15CYpoBu2zw/S5Vl7OMLTlI/AAAAAAAAAU0/ta522zAHIgU/s1600-h/tumblr_kyz7zrNcA91qzx0x7o1_400.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_15CYpoBu2zw/S5VmIZnjiMI/AAAAAAAAAVM/Hb8dwNTtrs4/s1600-h/tumblr_kyp4gbsiFi1qzpsheo1_1280.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_15CYpoBu2zw/S5VmIZnjiMI/AAAAAAAAAVM/Hb8dwNTtrs4/s400/tumblr_kyp4gbsiFi1qzpsheo1_1280.png" width="322" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_15CYpoBu2zw/S5VmIZnjiMI/AAAAAAAAAVM/Hb8dwNTtrs4/s1600-h/tumblr_kyp4gbsiFi1qzpsheo1_1280.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_15CYpoBu2zw/S5VmEJepOMI/AAAAAAAAAVE/QARvjiNGaBA/s1600-h/334766766_b9a46eb699_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="317" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_15CYpoBu2zw/S5VmEJepOMI/AAAAAAAAAVE/QARvjiNGaBA/s400/334766766_b9a46eb699_o.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_15CYpoBu2zw/S5Vm3sVU3II/AAAAAAAAAVc/2RWqRYZkKqo/s1600-h/kamekura_9_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_15CYpoBu2zw/S5Vm3sVU3II/AAAAAAAAAVc/2RWqRYZkKqo/s640/kamekura_9_large.jpg" width="448" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div> <a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_15CYpoBu2zw/S5Vnr5fRCUI/AAAAAAAAAVk/7_ktx4gmA-4/s1600-h/912882306_c8d508c468_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="382" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_15CYpoBu2zw/S5Vnr5fRCUI/AAAAAAAAAVk/7_ktx4gmA-4/s400/912882306_c8d508c468_o.jpg" width="400" /></a>Charleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09250584139891862085noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3525556553920461708.post-42924039111841104292010-03-02T03:40:00.000+00:002010-03-02T03:40:56.129+00:00Snap City<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_15CYpoBu2zw/S4yGHm0wjPI/AAAAAAAAAUc/o6mzARlEL_E/s1600-h/tumblr_kya7ecccLj1qautdzo1_1280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_15CYpoBu2zw/S4yGHm0wjPI/AAAAAAAAAUc/o6mzARlEL_E/s640/tumblr_kya7ecccLj1qautdzo1_1280.jpg" width="412" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_15CYpoBu2zw/S4yGJX5LqZI/AAAAAAAAAUk/_VqVXa1xCJc/s1600-h/tumblr_kya6ce2bTa1qautdzo1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_15CYpoBu2zw/S4yGJX5LqZI/AAAAAAAAAUk/_VqVXa1xCJc/s640/tumblr_kya6ce2bTa1qautdzo1_500.jpg" width="408" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_15CYpoBu2zw/S4yGCDrGAHI/AAAAAAAAAUU/wSgp4twmCWY/s1600-h/tumblr_kya5jd1LdO1qautdzo1_1280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_15CYpoBu2zw/S4yGCDrGAHI/AAAAAAAAAUU/wSgp4twmCWY/s640/tumblr_kya5jd1LdO1qautdzo1_1280.jpg" width="416" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_15CYpoBu2zw/S4yF9vx2w6I/AAAAAAAAAUM/izzBu8PBhn4/s1600-h/tumblr_kya5qykhT31qautdzo1_1280.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_15CYpoBu2zw/S4yF9vx2w6I/AAAAAAAAAUM/izzBu8PBhn4/s640/tumblr_kya5qykhT31qautdzo1_1280.png" width="388" /></a></div>Charleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09250584139891862085noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3525556553920461708.post-23327961815038044832010-02-26T02:06:00.001+00:002010-02-26T02:08:04.422+00:00Big City Delusional<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_15CYpoBu2zw/S4csgEVBc5I/AAAAAAAAAUE/AfVr_YA_-oI/s1600-h/tumblr_kxzxthlk0n1qzdi59o1_1280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_15CYpoBu2zw/S4csgEVBc5I/AAAAAAAAAUE/AfVr_YA_-oI/s320/tumblr_kxzxthlk0n1qzdi59o1_1280.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">A young girl meets the man of her dreams.</div><br />
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<br />
I met a really nice boy on my way to uni the other day; he ran over to me from across the street and told me he just had to have my number so he could call me sometime. He talked about my dress and the way that I walked, like Grace Kelly, he told me. He even used the words <i>breath taking</i>! It was like something out of a Douglas Sirk film, I was powerless to say no. Such romance!<br />
<br />
We’ve seen each other every day since then. He smells of clove cigarettes and he dresses so well. What a handsome man he is, and he really is a man. Nothing like the other boys I’ve known, nothing like them at all. Such a strong jaw line, broad shoulders and arms I feel so secure in. oh, they hold me so tight!<br />
<br />
I often wonder what he’s doing with a girl like me. It must be love, it has to be love. Why else would we spend so much time together? Today we went for a walk in the park. Sat in the grass, he told me about his family. The way he spoke of his mother and his father, his younger sister too, I felt as though I would cry.<br />
<br />
“Francis, I feel like I’ve known you for months and months.”<br />
<br />
I placed my hand over his.<br />
<br />
“Oh, really? I imagine I’d feel the same, if I were real.”<br />
<br />
I didn’t understand what he meant; I asked him why he would say something so strange. I asked him to explain exactly what he meant.<br />
<br />
He stood up and I did the same. He held both my hands, looked right in to me with those eyes of his. So piercing and blue.<br />
<br />
“I mean that I’m not real, Sarah. None of this is. It is all in your head, you’re unattractive and you haven’t been on a date in months. I could never be with you, I look like Marlon Brando and I compare you to classically beautiful, dead actresses. My name is Francis for god sakes, no one is called Francis! Really Sarah, how could any of this be real?”<br />
<br />
He let go of my hands and I began to cry. How could he be so cruel, how could he say such callous things?<br />
I asked him if he was intentionally trying to break my heart. He looked right through me once again. Couldn’t he see the tears in my eyes?<br />
<br />
“Listen; really listen to me when I say this Sarah. Someone like me could never, ever, love someone like you.”<br />
<br />
And then he was gone.Charleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09250584139891862085noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3525556553920461708.post-69356367065165899672010-02-21T20:44:00.000+00:002010-02-21T20:44:44.552+00:00Geniuses of Love<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_15CYpoBu2zw/S4GagBYCObI/AAAAAAAAAT0/ddCAPL7_Ibw/s1600-h/tumblr_kxzxthlk0n1qzdi59o1_1280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_15CYpoBu2zw/S4GagBYCObI/AAAAAAAAAT0/ddCAPL7_Ibw/s320/tumblr_kxzxthlk0n1qzdi59o1_1280.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_15CYpoBu2zw/S4GaZpwEvpI/AAAAAAAAATk/jU45vFW8ykA/s1600-h/tumblr_ky51zhEScb1qzdi59o1_1280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_15CYpoBu2zw/S4GaZpwEvpI/AAAAAAAAATk/jU45vFW8ykA/s320/tumblr_ky51zhEScb1qzdi59o1_1280.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_15CYpoBu2zw/S4Gabuti1fI/AAAAAAAAATs/28aNw8clCzY/s1600-h/tumblr_ky74o3ZDu51qzdi59o1_1280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_15CYpoBu2zw/S4Gabuti1fI/AAAAAAAAATs/28aNw8clCzY/s320/tumblr_ky74o3ZDu51qzdi59o1_1280.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_15CYpoBu2zw/S4GamTXn7mI/AAAAAAAAAT8/cBGLwQiyLw0/s1600-h/tumblr_kxzu4byJ6S1qzdi59o1_1280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_15CYpoBu2zw/S4GamTXn7mI/AAAAAAAAAT8/cBGLwQiyLw0/s400/tumblr_kxzu4byJ6S1qzdi59o1_1280.jpg" width="307" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Massive shout out to the ladies over @ Heartbreak Zine HQ, got a copy of their zine in the mail the other day and it realy is quite a treat. </div><div style="text-align: center;">S'all sold out now, so I hear. But I guess keep yer eyes peeled for ish #2</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">http://heartbreakzine.blogspot.com/</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I've still yet to do anything worth mentioning with myself just yet, keep your ears to the ground. </div>Charleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09250584139891862085noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3525556553920461708.post-63301522689238623202010-02-11T16:59:00.000+00:002010-02-11T16:59:37.672+00:00That's totally Pop!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_15CYpoBu2zw/S3Q2YcF-8EI/AAAAAAAAAS4/89mg0CHcSI8/s1600-h/batman_valentine-12573.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_15CYpoBu2zw/S3Q2YcF-8EI/AAAAAAAAAS4/89mg0CHcSI8/s320/batman_valentine-12573.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/kfcJUl39iiA&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/kfcJUl39iiA&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_15CYpoBu2zw/S3Q2EKS5CDI/AAAAAAAAASw/b1p3cb0AwYo/s1600-h/4342612595_379b72d69c_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_15CYpoBu2zw/S3Q2EKS5CDI/AAAAAAAAASw/b1p3cb0AwYo/s320/4342612595_379b72d69c_o.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_15CYpoBu2zw/S3Q2e-G4mNI/AAAAAAAAATI/KnN8LlGUIig/s1600-h/tumblr_kutcmxBvjr1qz7wfjo1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_15CYpoBu2zw/S3Q2e-G4mNI/AAAAAAAAATI/KnN8LlGUIig/s320/tumblr_kutcmxBvjr1qz7wfjo1_500.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_15CYpoBu2zw/S3Q15b-DXxI/AAAAAAAAASo/2_I_v8o7S2w/s1600-h/tumblr_kxmq49JtlY1qz5v7io1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_15CYpoBu2zw/S3Q15b-DXxI/AAAAAAAAASo/2_I_v8o7S2w/s400/tumblr_kxmq49JtlY1qz5v7io1_500.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/VnNB1EApA5U&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/VnNB1EApA5U&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></div>Charleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09250584139891862085noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3525556553920461708.post-23556035369211469472010-01-31T23:55:00.003+00:002010-02-01T00:15:37.954+00:00Big City Cyclical<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://photos-d.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash1/hs282.ash1/20964_100723816628498_100000726398383_19392_1252652_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="313" src="http://photos-d.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash1/hs282.ash1/20964_100723816628498_100000726398383_19392_1252652_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><br />
</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>Big City Cyclical</b></div><div style="text-align: center;">Intrepid intern Kip Calvin reviews his choice in women.</div><br />
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Sometimes, when I’m talking to Miranda, when she is twisting her hair and she is chewing her gum. I get a feeling, something of an inclination, that maybe I’d be having a much better time watching a freshly painted wall.<br />
<br />
It isn’t so much the things that she says, but the way that she says them; I just cannot find a way to justify the time I spend in her company.<br />
<br />
We went for a meal one Friday, an expensive Italian place. I told her about my artwork, she didn’t like the way I wore my tie.<br />
<br />
Later that night, we slept together and then arranged to meet up again the next week.<br />
<br />
Sometimes, when I’m talking to Miranda…Charleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09250584139891862085noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3525556553920461708.post-19092301867483956642010-01-19T21:42:00.002+00:002010-01-27T14:38:26.257+00:00Oldies but goldies!<div style="text-align: left;">We've all heard that pontificating turn of phrase about the old ones being the best, but fuck me if it’s an idiom that doesn’t consistently ring true. These days more than ever I’m getting a lot of pleasure from delving head first in to the back catalogue of bands whose output had either gotten lost in the sands of time or that I’d just completely manage to miss out on due to either my own ignorance or being born in the wrong decade. As such, I’ve decide that I’ll now be taking the time to provide showcase for the forgotten classics that could of been something and the timeless tracks that I just never had the good sense to listen to before. Hopefully you’ll dig them all as<br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">much as I do, at any rate it gives me a platform to name drop semi-obscure bands and artists without sounding <i>too much</i> like a pompous elitist<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://www.mediummedium.com/Photos/1982_promo.JPG" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 265px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 360px;" /><br />
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To start us off today, I’ll be talking about the oft referenced, but rarely talked about (at least in the circles I move in) dance punk group Medium Medium. They came out of Nottingham and on to the post punk scene in earnest way back in ‘81 with their second single “Hungry, So Angry”; the track was and is nothing short of a belter. A full force cacophony of shrieking guitars, pained vocals and wailing sax, all accompanied a slap bass line tastefully appropriated from the funk/R&B genres that many of their contemporaries were experimenting with at the time. Though it was essentially a break up song, there was nothing fey or reserved about the way the song was delivered, it mixed gloomy post punk catharsis and woe with a hubris that wouldn’t sound at all out of place on dance floors of any of the discotheques at the time. <br />
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</div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/whJ1uX4UMbc&hl=en_US&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/whJ1uX4UMbc&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">After a slew of positive press and adulation, and a few slots supporting U2 of all people, the band went on tour. Members left and members joined but the time their first and only album “The Glitterhouse” hit the record stores the band decided to call it quits, no more than a year after the single that bought them their fame had been cut. Singer and sax player John Rees, who had always maintained an interest in world music went on to start up the ethnically influenced C Cat Trance (who are excellent by the way) , and the band fell into relative obscurity, whilst other northern post punk groups such as Gang Of Four experienced almost meteoric rises to fame.<br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Despite all this, I think the “The Glitterhouse” has left a pretty audible mark on modern music of its genus, one I’d say was as prominent and as important as Gang of Four did. To listen to as a whole it sounds like an album The Rapture, Radio 4 or some other band of that ilk could have made or at least ripped off, there’s a rawness to it I’m reminded of whenever I listen to House of Jealous Lovers or something similar.<br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">As good as Hungry, So Angry is, the best song off the album is the one that it shares its title with, The Glitterhouse. It’s a wacked out little ditty based on the ranting of a friend of the band who was going through a mental breakdown at the time and later joined a cult, it comes fully equipped with a hauntingly distant, yet entirely temperamental vocal and is bolstered by sparse, teasingly ethnic percussions. It only lasts about two minutes, one of the shortest on the whole album but there’s something very ghostly about it, both in terms of the way the song comes across and the subject matter itself, all the different aspects of the song seek to gain your full attention and by the time it’s gotten you hooked, it’s gone as quick as it arrived. <br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">So there you have it, an oldie that is truly a goldie, I just can’t get enough of it, and you should check it out too. <br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://www.zshare.net/audio/71372549698db5aa/">Here’s a link to the album’s title track. Enjoy.</a><br />
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</div>Charleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09250584139891862085noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3525556553920461708.post-26351111474702398192010-01-19T00:27:00.003+00:002010-01-27T14:50:40.040+00:00heartbreaker<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_15CYpoBu2zw/S1T8tAXZhGI/AAAAAAAAALE/ofgh2hZUSb4/s1600-h/1151376109379.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_15CYpoBu2zw/S1T8tAXZhGI/AAAAAAAAALE/ofgh2hZUSb4/s320/1151376109379.gif" /></a><br />
</div><br />
I wrote this, for <a href="http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=257025329759&ref=nf">this </a> - its littered with spelling and grammar mistakes cause I'm an idiot.<br />
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</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">An Apology.<br />
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</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">This one goes out to Sarah, last name unknown. She was some girl who studied art or graphics or something of that genus at Central St. Martins. Bisexual, northern, with a pronounced interest in gender politics and the television show Gilmour Girls, Sarah was, for the most part very attractive: I’d say about a 6 when you’re totally sober, and about a 7.5 when she’s wearing her fuck me threads and you’re leering at her with coke wrap eyes, which is exactly the state I was in on that fateful night our paths did cross.We met one evening at a clubnight my house mate at the time had put on at The Macbeth; she was very drunk and I’d been spending a significant portion of the evening knelt down in toilet cubibicles, if you’re picking up what I’m putting down.<br />
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</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"> Anyway, our romance was brief in most senses of the word, and to this day I’ve never seen her around and her number didn’t even make it on to my “remember to text when drunk , lonely and horny” list, but despite all this, she sticks out in the forefront of my mind as a girl I must apologize to. It’s not so much how I treated her, and its not anything I said; its a simple matter of poor performance.<br />
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</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">You see, usually I go about my business with appreciative vigour, maybe not the greatest of lovers but what I might lack in length or versatility I tend to make up for with heart. Like the kid in P.E who is pretty shit at sports, but gives everything a go anyway and laughs it off when he scores an own goal .People let him join in, not on the basis of his skill, but ‘cause he’s a team player and his clumsy antics are good for the squads morale .<br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">For some reason that escapes me right now, on this night in particular I’d been hitting the source and the blow pretty heavy, and though the spirit, as it always is, was willing – the body just couldn’t cough up the goods. I’ll paint the scene for you: after a couple minutes of empty talk and obvious to the point of embarrasing flirtation, we’re on our way to her house. We’re on her sofa knocking back vodka and in a shallow and cynical attempt to impress her with my intellect, I yack it up a little about having read the first few pages of a Dostoevsky novel. She digs it and tells me she has a copy of the same book in her bedroom - Score. Seconds later I’m tearing my skinnies off with all the excitement of a kid at christmas. I grab a rubber and I’m all about ready to get down to the do but just one problem: it turns out my erection called in sick today and won’t be able to make it in till at least tomorrow morning.<br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">So, here I am on this poor girl’s bed, making jokes about some dumb thing or the other I saw on tv whilst she watches me trying in vain to roll a durex down the shaft of my semi flacid penis. Out of sheer nerves and embarassment I start cracking wise at her: “I’m not like, broken or anything, I’m still a man...” all she does is look at me, at it, her face the portrait of disapointment. Eventually I manage to get the damned thing on, and even though I can’t seem to make it past semiprofiency I figure that I’ve gotten far enough in this endevour to at least try and get it up her.There’s alotta rolling around, apologetic mumbling and plenty of tutting coming from her direction. I’m doing the best that I can and she’s not having a bar of it.<br />
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</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Eventually we call the whole thing off and she says she needs to get some sleep for some reason or the other, too wasted to put my clothes back on I ended up sleeping naked but the girl was so sour about what we’d just been through that she wouldn’t let me spoon. Total insult to injury.<br />
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</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Well, morning comes and the lady is a good sport enough to make me some coffee and walk me to the station. We make some idle conversation about something boring as we foot it out of her halls of residence, but there’s no getting past the fact that I was a shitty lay. We both knew it, we both felt it (well she didn’t feel much) and despite the fact that we exchanged numbers and left each other’s company in fairly good spiritis, there was no chance in hell we were ever going to see each other again.<br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"> Anyway, she seemed like the kinda girl who’d be in to ‘zines so there’s a slight chance she might read this, I hope she does because here’s my apology:<br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Hi Sarah, how are you, hows your course and did you ever end up living in a squat like you said you wanted to?! I am doing well and in good health, thanks for asking.<br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I know that when you saw me leaning against the bar, weighing in at an unimpressive eight a half ston inbibing the latest in a succesion of poisons that you probably weren’t expecting the ride of the lifetime, and I know that when drunkenly I asked you if you were a fan of American Nightmare, you weren’t expecting much in terms of conversation.<br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"> But I feel as though, I really should apologize for not meeting the likely already very low expectations you had when you picked me out of the crowd of drunken losers and assholes that night. I promise and I assure you that it was simply a one time thing and I usually am not so completely inept at forming the beast with two backs.<br />
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</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">So yeah, if you’re ever in New Cross and you feel like having some clumsy, but effective sex, please don’t hesistate to search me out, I almost feel as though I owe it to you.<br />
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</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Sincerely yours,<br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">That Guy Who Couldn’t Get It Up And Wasn’t Very Good At Eating Pussy Either.<br />
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</div><div></div>Charleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09250584139891862085noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3525556553920461708.post-70282773613935375782010-01-10T05:40:00.001+00:002010-01-27T14:51:28.398+00:00Easy livin'<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Alia Shawkat totally babed out since Arrested Development got cancelled.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Here's a picture of her in a catsuit.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Here's one in which she totally looks like she could be dating a Kennedy.<br />
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</div>That's all really.Charleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09250584139891862085noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3525556553920461708.post-64768898054816785132009-12-23T15:10:00.000+00:002009-12-23T15:10:03.839+00:00Theme from Big Wave<div style="text-align: center;">I can't remember the last time I did or said anything remotely intelligent or worthwhile. I've become a total absence of productivity!<br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Here's hoping 2010 will be a lot less intellectually bankrupt. Self improvement here we come!<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_15CYpoBu2zw/SzIxPt30QVI/AAAAAAAAAKs/JJIdX7TPHVo/s1600-h/peggy_oki_dogtown_and_z-boys_001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_15CYpoBu2zw/SzIxPt30QVI/AAAAAAAAAKs/JJIdX7TPHVo/s320/peggy_oki_dogtown_and_z-boys_001.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
In the meantime, here's a song about surfing.<br />
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</div><div style="text-align: center;"><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/p6NxTFHOaxc&hl=en_GB&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/p6NxTFHOaxc&hl=en_GB&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br />
</div>Charleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09250584139891862085noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3525556553920461708.post-76367699615466029322009-11-14T11:04:00.003+00:002010-01-27T17:48:05.854+00:00Big City Sartorial<p>Ties! Yeah I got a bunch of ties, pal. Yeah...Mr Goldstein is always yackin' about ties: "It really does make a man what he is. How else can you tell a no goodnick punk from a true Prince Of Industry?" He yaps and he yaps, cigar in one hand, the other slouching outta his pocket like maybe he has a gun there or something. Anyway, when I'm down beneath his sight and he's calling me a talentless green horn, I get to thinking that maybe The Boss is right and maybe I oughta have at least a few classy ties kicking around. I want to be a captain of my domain, after-all.</p><a name='more'></a><br />
<p><br />So I got a bunch of pinstripe ones mostly, buncha novelty pieces for the fun days and something bold for the interviews. I'm a lion of the side walk with these goddam ties on, people look at me in the office and they say to me, they say "Hey there killer, go get 'em! You make them pray to you out there! Fuck 'em in the ass twice, champ!"I turn back to them and I smile my wry smile and I say Boy! I'll make 'em wish they never got up that morning. I'll take them out in the street and I'll fight 'em till the last man! Boy I will!</p><p><br />There is a silent agreement and a solemn nod of respect at this point. I get back to my drawings. Paint is my collateral. <br />Yesterday I was painting in the kitchen and spilt ink all over my sandwich. Sometimes the Big City just takes me in its jaws and eats me. I must taste like a winner.</p><p><br />One Tuesday this month Ol' Goldy calls me into his office. I have a bunch of illustrations for him to look over and maybe we'll toss a couple of ideas around, he wants me to design a whore house for him. Says the place has to be real swanky, the kind of whore house an airline pilot would frequent. So yeah, I'm in his office and I'm showing him my work in progress. He's wearing a new suit and chomping on a Cuban. He laughs a couple times as he's flicking through my portfolio:</p><p>"I do love the dames you know, I mean Mrs Goldstein aint so keen on some of the skirt I bring back, but I paid for her tits twice! Fucken bitch."</p><p><br />"Yes, sir! No doubt about it, I never met a man as commanding as you Sir! But what about the paintings, I was trying something new with my strokes. Lotta my heart in this one, Mister Goldstein, Sir...."<br /><br />"Blow it out your ass kid, you don't know shit about heart! What is this crap you've handed me here? Holy shit. I wanted nubile baby dolls wrestling on a mountain of sexual viscera! You've ass fucked my vision to hell and back, Kid! Strokes? Like I give a fuck about you and your strokes! Pissant kids don't listen for shit this day an' age. Holy shit , this is real collegiate level garbage."</p><p><br />The Boss knows that mincing words is for the weak, real men of power and standing speak with a frank and brutal honesty. My boss is a crack pot son of a bitch, I've got to put him right about those strokes, those were real hearty brush strokes I did for him.</p><p><br />"But Bossman, what about the way the strokes communicate both high flying valour and untamed animal lust? These are my children, my way with the brush is the linchpin of this whore house. Heart, Sir! I'm not kidding when I say heart and soul Mr Gold!"</p><p><br />He looks impressed, he pulls the cigar outta his mouth, blows smoke in my face, punches me in the nose and says:</p><p><br />"Well awwrite, Kip Calvin you handsome sunnuvabitch! You got some balls in ya yet, don't ya kid? Say, hows about I give you an advance on this gig and you can take Clarice, my secretary out on a date this evenin'. She's a little lonely since I hired the new copywriter. Put some tissue under that nose and be at La Blandos at nine o'clock sharp!"</p><p><br />I was in the bathroom later that hour, washing my nose out under the tap. I wondered if Clarice would like my paintings, I decided I'd bring them along on our date.</p><p>I hoped she'd like my tie. It was pinstripe, I like my ties.</p>Charleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09250584139891862085noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3525556553920461708.post-19935250273086351802009-11-01T21:42:00.003+00:002010-01-27T14:52:49.733+00:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://nerdboyfriend.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/11/woodyallen400x600.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://nerdboyfriend.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/11/woodyallen400x600.jpg" width="425" /></a><br />
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<br />
thick smoke, shitty lungs<br />
two kids at party<br />
at corner,<br />
one long, thin nerved out<br />
drugged in youth<br />
<br />
one like-so Jane<br />
short hair, dress too<br />
<br />
talk begets smoke, <br />
begets cough and<br />
choke<br />
<br />
two kids lick lips<br />
look, eyes,<br />
wait for the other <br />
to shut<br />
the hell<br />
up<br />
<br />
(long kid) long enough<br />
so maybe they might press<br />
the old page together;<br />
leave little, long lean kid's kiss<br />
indents<br />
perhaps<br />
on the other(?)<br />
<br />
well this<br />
could take<br />
all <br />
night<br />
long kid, listless youth<br />
lost one too,<br />
if this don't go through<br />
<br />
well hey there!<br />
(hotshot)<br />
sighingly say <br />
short shape <br />
jane<br />
<br />
when we gonna dance?<br />
when we gonna paint?<br />
<br />
rush in <br />
like fools<br />
rush out<br />
front doors<br />
head house<br />
head <br />
home together<br />
then <br />
alone<br />
<br />
all because <br />
one<br />
all because of two<br />
all because<br />
three<br />
hours of chit chit<br />
chat <br />
<br />
is just<br />
a little<br />
too<br />
much.Charleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09250584139891862085noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3525556553920461708.post-86473820632242625162009-10-29T06:12:00.000+00:002009-10-29T06:12:19.682+00:00Arthur Russell<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.clashmusic.com/files/imagecache/big_node_view/files/images/arthur-russell.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://www.clashmusic.com/files/imagecache/big_node_view/files/images/arthur-russell.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
</div>Have we talked about Arthur Russell yet, you and I?<br />
<br />
I think maybe my love for the man and his music is a little too much to go in to right about now. Bottom line is he was way ahead of his time back when he was alive and even now as recordings and demos of his are still being unearthed he's managing to posthumously stay at least two paces ahead of contemporary artists of the same ilk, few that there are.<br />
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Definitely some one to get aquainted with if you're diggin' the "no - fi" trend that's come about as of late, or whatever really. Just check him out.<br />
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I really need to figure out how and where to start hosting music and using those nifty flash player dealies. When I get my laptop fixed I'm really going to try and expand this blog to the best of my ability. Hmm.Charleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09250584139891862085noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3525556553920461708.post-88557290369059302642009-10-29T06:10:00.000+00:002009-10-29T06:10:57.456+00:00Mtume - You, me and he<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/FUCkcvdQ7Fw&hl=en&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/FUCkcvdQ7Fw&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br />
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You, me and he is Mtume's fourth record. Its a concept album with a narrative about love, lust and infidelity that stretches out over its nine tracks. Its the sort of thing that sounds laughable on paper, and the title track's promo video does all it can to whittle the song's credibility down to a nub but casting all that aside its a pretty fucking killer record.<br />
<br />
Some of the tracks are a little sparse even in slow jam terms and there are points where I'd really just like there to be a few more instruments thrown in the mix but aside from that it really is an untouchable album. Maybe not the danciest there is out there but definitely one to sit back, light a doob and fucking chill to.<br />
<br />
Check it out.Charleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09250584139891862085noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3525556553920461708.post-25888739238203228982009-10-25T09:56:00.003+00:002009-10-25T10:03:45.150+00:00Cough CoolEver have one of those nights where your vomit looks like chopped raspberries? Then you drunkenly strop off home by yourself like a menstrually afflicted girl? I definitely just had one of those.<br />
<br />
So I woke up this morning hung over and all kinds of embarassed, I figure the best cure for shame and mild if not misdirected agression is the internet coupled with copious amounts of self indulgent blogwhining. <br />
<br />
So here goes.<br />
<br />
Here we have <a href="http://www.myspace.com/coughcoolmusic">Cough Cool</a>, named after a Misfits song I wont pretend to have heard more than once. Doomy with a vaguely melodic slant, vocals come on like a gregorian chant, minimalistic lyrisicm echoing, bellowing and repeating. Instrumentation gets frantic at times but for the most part everything is very deep and foreboding but in a real simple way, mostly just organs and guitars. If only I listened to better music, Id have something wildly esoteric to compare it to.<br />
<br />
The track Girl Tell Me sounds like a love song written in an abotoir, which by all acounts is a good thing. Watery guitars on top of haunting refrains, comes complete with Ohs and Ahs. Lovely stuff. Perfect music for those moody Sunday (or any other day of the week) morning hang overs. Theyre becoming fairly routine as of late.<br />
<br />
Heres an obvious Misfits song I really like. <br />
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I ought to get off my ass and find something constructive to do.Charleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09250584139891862085noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3525556553920461708.post-46547566123419332912009-10-23T00:28:00.000+01:002009-10-23T00:28:36.828+01:00Wild Nothing<div style="text-align: center;"></div>Back on the internet, sort of. <br />
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I fell through a roof, left my job and somewhere in between all of that my laptop broke. I need to find a way to get it fixed, I'm missing the cold glow of its screen.<br />
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Anyway, here's a cool sound I saw on Pitchfork today. <a href="http://www.myspace.com/wildnothing">Wild Nothing:</a> Some guy from some place, real autumnal vibe, sort of like all those depressing and/or Scottish fey bands from way back when.<br />
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Could do with a better voice but everything else is sounding twinkly and ethereal enough to make up for it, not to mention there's a pretty bold cover of Cloudbusting by Kate Bush. <br />
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Oh, I had a job interview for a shop called Beyond the Valley, one of those boutique type places that sells £95 jumpers and mirrors laser cut in to the shape of a woodland animal. Real swell place up in Carnaby street - next door to the Lomography shop actually - anyway, interview went well and I have a trial shift next week Thursday, wish me fucking luck cause I litterally walked out on my job at H&M just to get to the interview itself.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">Kate Bush was a babe<br />
</div>Charleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09250584139891862085noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3525556553920461708.post-77958161705116943732009-09-28T23:15:00.001+01:002010-01-27T14:53:01.595+00:00Toto - Georgy PorgyOh boy, if you could just bare with me for a moment and listen to/watch all three versions of this song. <br />
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<object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/IEnRAeHtogk&hl=en&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/IEnRAeHtogk&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br />
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<object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/f7Kr9qNLRRE&hl=en&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/f7Kr9qNLRRE&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Charleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09250584139891862085noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3525556553920461708.post-11650973425205596912009-09-23T01:49:00.000+01:002009-09-23T01:49:12.563+01:00Tom Tom Club - Under The Boardwalk<div style="text-align: center;"><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/SjeL9bMRnaI&hl=en&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/SjeL9bMRnaI&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br />
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Have I given Tom Tom Club enough of a chance? I got an album of theirs once and Genius of love was the only song I liked. I hate when that happens.<br />
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I woke up with £30 this morning, I think im going to bed with at least £70, this is how girls in Hotters must feel. I'd love to have breasts that big and full.Charleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09250584139891862085noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3525556553920461708.post-66196408165845195452009-09-21T23:12:00.004+01:002010-01-27T14:53:16.246+00:00Washed Out - Life of Leisure.Last night more than any other night I was anxious to finally get up and move out of home again. This afternoon I chanced upon what I'm hoping will be my new home for the next bunch of months, and I'm pretty psyched about that. <br />
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In the hours between last night and this afternoon I hooked myself up with what I'm guessing is <a href="http://www.myspace.com/thebabeinthewoods">Washed Out</a>'s second or maybe third release, Life of Leisure, and boy is it great!<br />
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It's six well crafted tracks that recklessly blur the lines between disco, new wave and modern dance music whilst managing to stayalmost completely non derivative. Each cut has something fresh and intriguing lying behind it, whether its the sombre synths and longing vocals of second track "New Theory" or the after hours sleekness and haunting soul of sixth track "Lately"; its all cut with a bright sophistication and boldness that's oft absent from a fledgling musician's earlier output.<br />
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Life of Leisure sets out in earnest to carve new sound out of old wax, it bravely sets out on its own two feet and takes you on the ride with it. That's one of the best aspects of this album and pretty the majority of the music Washed Out has made so far, listening feels like being propelled through a field of sound, I think its the way the vocals sound so distant or maybe its the way each of the songs sound in sequence, so robust and layered. <br />
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Whatever really, I'm getting a bit purple prose to be honest. The bottom line is that its refreshing to hear such a mature and fresh set of sounds and that Life of Leisure is probably one of the best EPs (or is it a mini album?) that I've listened to all year. Probably one of the best I've listened to in a good number of years, but maybe that's my honey moon ears and I'm gushing just a little too much.<br />
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Either way, if you read this then I urge you to check it out and make your own mind up. While you're at it check out a guy called <a href="http://toroymoi.blogspot.com/">Toro y Moi,</a> I don't really know what to say about his music aside from the fact that its balls out awesome and you're a prick if you don't like it. Then check out his side project <a href="http://hypem.com/search/les%20sins%20lina/1/">Les Sins</a> tré tré chic disco in the dark kinda stuff, if you're picking up what I'm putting down.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://download136.mediafire.com/qf9ldmv3covg/w4z2tyonnon/Washed+Out+-+Life+of+Leisure+%28EP%29+%282009%29.rar">Washed Out - Life of Leisure</a><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://download181.mediafire.com/g0ba311tzzzg/gccdzjdnddn/toro+y+moi+-+demo.zip">Toro y moi - Demo</a><br />
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<a href="http://www.myspace.com/lessins">Les Sins </a><br />
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</div>Charleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09250584139891862085noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3525556553920461708.post-7531121405970453202009-09-21T01:41:00.000+01:002009-09-21T01:41:29.189+01:00My sugar thing, my choclate starI turned twenty last week. I went out on the town and had a swell time with the guys. I also met Joe from Hot Chip, and hugged him, for a second time.<br />
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I think I'm starting to grow a beard, its somewhere between non existent and incredibly unbecoming.<br />
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Here's a youtube video or two.<br />
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<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/sjwbnoQJkm8&hl=en&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/sjwbnoQJkm8&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Charleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09250584139891862085noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3525556553920461708.post-12519504396554246042009-09-16T03:13:00.000+01:002009-09-16T03:13:30.472+01:00moodo, foodo<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_15CYpoBu2zw/SrBJeOXJT4I/AAAAAAAAAKg/mUiebwKfg9Q/s1600-h/Moodofoodo+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_15CYpoBu2zw/SrBJeOXJT4I/AAAAAAAAAKg/mUiebwKfg9Q/s320/Moodofoodo+1.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">http://lukeramsey.blogspot.com/</div>Charleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09250584139891862085noreply@blogger.com0