Manic Fantasy Setlist October 3, 2009
Posted by coqfosters in All your life.Tags: checklist, life, music, shows
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Inevitably, you resign yourself to the fact that you’ll never see one of your favourite ever bands and then 10 years later – when you’ve completely written it off – the chance comes, you snap up the tickets, and it happens.
It’s crazy to think about, but ever since I was 15 I wanted to see the Manics live. Most logical folks will question their posturing and ridiculous attitude and legacy but in an age where there are no bands with any degree or modicum of substance, I’m glad I can at least say that this (along with one or two others of the time) was a band worth clinging to, a band you could BELIEVE IN. Those bands don’t exist anymore. But I’ll touch on that in a later entry at another time.
Like most people, when I started going to shows you really didn’t know what you were going to get. Now, setlists are immediately posted online from every show on the tour and you know more or less what you’re in for. Ignoring that, and the logic that dictates you’ll get more songs from certain albums than others, and the songs that always get played, I decided to construct a fantasy setlist – 2-3 tracks from each of the 9 albums. I’d love to see other folks do this for bands they feel passionate about as well so feel free to send them along.
These are the tracks I’d want to see on Wednesday, if I were running the show:
Non album singles
Motown Junk – ferocious raw energy in 3 minutes, perfect punk attitude.
The Masses Against The Classes – ferocious raw energy, 10 years later: ‘I’m tired of giving a reason, when we’re the only thing left to believe in…’ and how.
Generation Terrorists
Motorcycle Emptiness – The culmination of pop music’s obsession with the 6 minute power ballad… if it were a ballad. And that guitar just takes you somewhere else.
You Love Us – Just the prospect of a band playing this song to a frothing (not anymore, we’re all too old) crowd of people is tantalising.
Tennessee – ‘Media sells a trace of hate’ - never more resonant than now
Gold Against The Soul
Sleepflower – A little over the top and polished on record, might be great in a raw live environment.
La Tristesse Durera – Classic.
The Holy Bible
Faster – Again, the sheer force of the energy in this one is immense. Used to play this on my bass until my fingers bled.
Of Walking Abortion – They played this at the Millennium gig and Nicky said the bar must have sold a record number of pints during this one, but I love it! The bass drives it, but the ridiculous guitar riff makes that youngster Bellamy look like an amateur.
Everything Must Go
A Design For Life – You have to include it.
The Girl Who Wanted To Be God – Can’t imagine this gets many live airings but everything about this song is fantastic and perfect.
Enola/Alone – ‘I’ll take a picture of you to remember how good you looked…’ drenched in nostalgia.
This Is My Truth…
Ready For Drowning – One of the most underrated tracks of its time.
If You Tolerate This… – Somewhat of a wayward anthem which in a way is a metaphor for much of the catalogue.
Tsunami – Another quiet/loud one with a huge chorus. If only they ever actually played it with the sitar!
Know Your Enemy
Found That Soul – Can’t believe Let Robeson Sing gets more airings than this, straight ahead back to basics rock.
Freedom of Speech… – Particularly relevant (if slightly obtuse) in this country.
Lifeblood
To Repel Ghosts – Seems like the only way this should be listened to is in a very dark room with flashing lights out of booming speakers.
1985 – One of the most underrated album lead-off tracks.
Solitude Sometimes Is – If only for the xylophone.
Send Away The Tigers
Send Away The Tigers – Somewhere, Slash is trying to figure out how he didn’t get to that riff first. Can’t wait to see this.
The Second Great Depression – If only because Indian Summer is essentially A Design For Life Part Deux.
Journal For Plague Lovers
Journal For Plague Lovers – Don’t think this will be one of the new ones to get played, such a shame. Great chorus.
All Is Vanity – See above.
This Joke Sport Severed – Probably their most epic, string laden, beautiful track since the Everything Must Go era.
New York Sundays July 6, 2009
Posted by coqfosters in NYC.Tags: film, food, life, new york, walking
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So it occurred to me that I hadn’t written in a while, amidst a plethora of somewhat life changing events meant to disturb the banality of the hum drum, 9 to 5, day to day big city life. It’s been a bit of a wild one. The last couple of months since Los Angeles has seen career changes, going home, going around the world and back, in sickness and in rude health, richer and poorer and the rest of that shit they make you go through when you get married to someone, except I’ve been married to myself and isn’t that just always the case?
And of course there’s been no small amount of romance, of love (for fuck’s sake…), of parties and hangovers and rock shows and the morning after the night before, huddled in front of the video games not wanting to come out of my room until 7pm. And a bit of the odd work as well.
But what of it? I guess today I felt compelled to write after taking in La fille de Monaco, and realising that the more things change, yes, the more they stay the same. When I came to New York, by and large, all I had was cinema and music and an open map and despite the meticulous social planning that makes up most of the week, when you want to get away from your life you know that you can always rely on those same things.
I got the A to West 4th and walked across the village, headed into the Angelika, got my ticket, sat down, and got whisked away to that world of French cinema where only the names ever really change. There’s inevitably a bizarre love triangle, beautiful cityscapes, cute girls on scooters, gorgeous women making love to unattractive men (perhaps this is why we go), some twisted crime happens, there’s a wacky plot twist with one of the central characters dying, and then an end to the storyline that defies logic. Yet, I go back time and again because, fuck me, the French have figured out that this shit is gold and when you stop putting Depardieu in everything, it only gets better (no offense mate).
I left the cinema and walked down to the 2/3 at Chambers via Mercer and Church streets, as I wanted to avoid Broadway. Not least because I’d done that walk last week, but because of my longstanding ambition to walk the entire length of Broadway in Manhattan and having not done it yet, not wishing to get bored of it. Church Street was brilliant: garbage strewn everywhere on the street outside the post office at the corner of Canal made it feel like it was the end of the world, like one of those scenes from the opening of 28 Days Later, only without all of the evil undead and about 3,000 miles away. But otherwise, very much like that. There’s something alluring about Tribeca, it looks like it might actually be a fantastic place to live, quiet weekends and cornershop cafes amongst the bustling weekday activity of suits and deals. There was something a bit off though about the air quality, a slightly foul like something’s still lingering in the air down there from when the towers fell just around the corner, but that’s probably reading too much into it and one could come over all spiritual here but that’s just not my style.
Eventually made my way down into the platform, felt as if a train was going to hit me from behind as I walked atop the uptown A/C track in the mezzanine at Chambers, eventually making my way over to the 2/3 platform at Park Place. In 20 minutes we’re halfway up the island, alighting at 96th to pick up the ritual Sunday evening Pad Kee Mao, running into Walter on Broadway & 101st. Amazing to see your great friends when you least expect it, nowhere near where either of you live, totally by chance. Hit a shake at the Ben & Jerry’s before picking up dinner and rocking back up to 168th on the 1. And it was a truly stunning evening in the heights, blue skies giving way to red and orange through the clouds as the sun set over New Jersey and the Hudson River as I walked home.
Anyhow, that was about 4 hours of the long holiday weekend, the rest of it wasn’t worth discussing, but I’m amazed at how throughout the excitement, boredom, frustration, happiness, and the rest of the shit that’s happened over the course of the last few years, throughout all that’s changed, the interests that gave me something to work from when I moved here are still doing the business. Without the passion for culture and exploration I don’t know where I’d be, so cheers to NYC for today, back to work tomorrow, and I’ll write about the rest of the shit later. Perhaps even by next time I’ll have finished the Broadway Walk.
You Gotta Try To Remember The Way To The Top April 11, 2009
Posted by coqfosters in All your life.Tags: life, los angeles, music
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Cos I’ve gotta win, gotta win, let me win, gotta win…
Some albums were just made for sunshine. The first day I could get to Amoeba in LA, I was desperately looking for that record, but nothing stood out for me, and I left empty-handed. I went back the next day when the new Gomez record came out, more to pick that up to listen on the flight home than with any real expectation about finding a trip-defining record.
Back when I used to drive, I had an iPod connector so that I could constantly soundtrack the scenery without having to deal clumsily changing CDs or the dearth of quality on commercial radio. However, I don’t drive anymore, haven’t got the tools of the trade and was left with a rental car full of dreadful radio selections and one CD. So for the remainder of my week in Southern California, it was all about Gomez.
A New Tide is a solid record. It’s not amazing, and I guess most folks wouldn’t consider Gomez to have had a truly amazing record since Bring It On. That might be unfair. I’ve liked all the records, even if they are a bit hit and miss. And while A New Tide hasn’t been universally well received, sometimes that just doesn’t matter. It was that record that seems against all odds to have been made for sunshine. Like most Gomez records it has a couple of clunkers, but the highlights are simply stunning.
Lead single Airstream Driver is a fantastic singalong for racing through dense traffic, while deeper cuts Win Park Slope and Sunset Gates are hugely rewarding listens against the backdrop of the cool blue sky and mountains around LA. Little Pieces is an absolute gem.
I must have listened to the record 7-8 times driving to and from the office, back and forth from downtown, up and down from the Hills, down Sunset to In-N-Out and back, and then finally down into the OC at the weekend. Of course there have been many more records made over the course of history that have captured the essence of SoCal much better than this one ever could. But on the other hand, for me to have the chance to get away to someplace almost completely foreign and lose myself in almost every possible meaning of the word, it was important to have a record on hand to provide the perfect soundtrack. That I can count on Gomez to still do that for me after all these years since Bring It On is marvellous.
Coldwater Canyon April 1, 2009
Posted by coqfosters in All your life, Music business.Tags: checklist, life, los angeles, music, work
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I forgot what it felt like to swear in traffic, to race through a yellow, to commute in anything newer than an R44. So in that sense, Sunset Blvd in the morning has given me a new lease on life. Turning the corner onto Vine with the Capitol tower in the foreground has been an incredible feeling. Walking over the stars of Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, and more on the walk of fame has been bizarre. And walking into the tower has been remarkable, one of those things that most folks who work there might take for granted.
This is what getting into the business was supposed to be about, that old school record label feeling, the platinum plaques, the studios, the history. LA as a whole is a special but barely tolerable mess, but the tower is the jewel in the crown, a true landmark – one of few universally recognisable landmarks after the Hollywood sign itself.
I have problems doing the ‘tourist’ thing. I only came out here if I could get them to let me work, and I’m not really fussed about doing the things people need to do. Maybe it’s a New York thing, you live in the best city in the country and you start to think that nothing else matters. Driving across America last year taught me otherwise. There’s something special about LA, but the things you have to tolerate and manage in LA are the things that you never think about in New York. And I’m not a beach person.
But I love a good drive. Especially on secluded, winding roads. For all of the money I spent on getting a car out here, I haven’t been able to really drive on any street at any time that didn’t have any degree of traffic. It hadn’t really been enjoyable. So I ran a few errands in town and then headed out for the hills. That’s when you realise: it isn’t so much the things in the city that make the city special, it’s the things this city represents: stardom and seclusion, the ability to buy yourself a palace far above everyone and with a view of everything. To live a life where you’ll be seen more in a week than most people will in their lifetime, and then be able to bury yourself away in the side of a mountain on a street that bends like a contortionist on Robaxin. And some of them are probably on Robaxin.
So I drove up, away from Hollywood and Beverly Hills, to see those things, to get out on the open road, up Mulholland Drive and Coldwater Canyon and other streets which have had films named after them and if they haven’t, doubtlessly will in future. Simply marvellous: Stopping at scenic stopovers high above the smog, where you can see for miles. Getting lost and not knowing which way is which. Having to be careful to make the hairpin turn and not fall off the side of the mountain.
I may not ever get the stereotypical experience but I always want to get the memorable ones. Stopping at absolutely classic diners in Hollywood off the beaten path, ending up in a plainly bizarre used record store on Ventura Blvd in Studio City, keeping calm on the 101 with the new Gomez record, watching the sun set over Dana Point: all things to remember this trip by. The harsh realities of the greatest city await, but before I go back we might try and have a few more nights of unexpected, if memorable, moments.
Operation Goldsmiths February 24, 2009
Posted by coqfosters in All your life.Tags: checklist, life
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“It’s insane. I have the most amazing family.”
Zac is an incredible storyteller. Over a half hour story about his admittedly amazing family, I’m instantly reminded why I came back to Michigan for the long weekend. Why spend Valentine’s Day with only one person you love, when you can spend it with 10?
Zac is going on about what everyone in his family does and the stuff his grandpa invents at the age of 87 and you can’t help but be impressed. He’s impressed, that’s why it’s ok to be impressed and not feel bad about your own family. What about my own family? They’re all lovely folks but outside of my nuclear family I don’t really have many real relationships with them. It’s my own fault – I’m bad at staying in touch and I hate reunions.
It’s kind of trite to say ‘my friends are my family.’ I know this because even though it is true, your circle of friends is this ever evolving beast and from being dropped off at each one’s house over the weekend by another friend who doesn’t talk to them anymore, I felt like a kid whose 4 parents had divorced and was living some kind of fucked up joint custody nightmare. And similarly, it’s love that tore them apart.
From being far enough out of the picture, I’ve learned to appreciate every second of my time with these people. I’ve tried hard to maintain these relationships, far harder than I probably ever have with most of my family. It’s been worth it so far, but someday I will feel guilty about this.
In the end I flew in because I care more about Zac and Jon and their band than I do about many things in life. It almost doesn’t make sense. If I can lend my ears and my voice for a night or so to help them on the road to being more successful and being able to make even better music, then it’s more than worth my investment. It’s crazy to believe in something so much, to come back here and tell everyone you know about it and not have them care. Maybe it’s better that this band is (outside of the Midwest) largely my own secret. But on the other hand you want to keep fighting because there is all of this potential for so much great things. That I can get reports from friends in Indiana and Kentucky about the latest shows and have people calling me on their phone in Ann Arbor mid song and go over to friends’ houses and hear them playing the record that I introduced them to… it makes me immensely proud. When you work like I do from 9-5 on some of the stuff I have, you realise that there is substance there and that is worth every second of helping and fighting for.
But Zac’s stories – which I won’t share here – were worth the trip alone. Somewhere along the way these guys became great friends who I miss. I miss them as much as I miss my other friends who can’t get it together enough to speak to each other anymore, whose love and relationships and pettiness tore them apart from each other. Who couldn’t look at the big picture. Or maybe we all just drift apart, as I would have if I had half as much of something worth fighting for in The Best City In The World™ as I did back home.
Let us keep things in perspective. The great thing about coming to NYC is that once you beat New York, you can fearlessly go anywhere. The next step will undoubtedly be the hardest. I promised myself I would move to England by 30 and it’s time to start making that dream a reality. The first step is putting together the plan – a lesson I learned from my own grandfather. This is Operation Goldsmiths: a project that has been years in the making, and after seeing my friends and family consolidate their relationships with their significant others and the things in their lives that make them happy, one that has never been more important.
I love these people so much and the most important thing for me to do right now is to move even further away. Still, it’s what I’ll do to start creating my own fantastic stories again…
Zeitgeist January 16, 2009
Posted by coqfosters in All your life.Tags: life, new york
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Tom Rexford’s a bit of a legend. Seriously – I remember when he walked in to the SOC dressed like a rockstar from Neptune back in like 2003 with a couple of lackeys behind him, and I thought ‘where the hell is this guy from?’ Then there was the time we both wore eyeliner to our respective meetings and I walked over and he goes ‘I knew how to put on makeup since I was in the womb.’ Then a week later he pissed off a balcony in full view of everyone at a party, and told me stories about walking up the Cass Corridor in the dead of night with a girl on each arm and telling drug fiends where to shove it, about the first time he did this and the seventh time he did that and a bunch of other stuff I can’t repeat here. It was exciting. I couldn’t figure out what we were doing in West Michigan.
These are great times wasted
I was old and I was young
These are great times wasted
I was old pretending to be young
I’ve been nostalgic for college a lot lately. The excitement of the working world has ground to a bit of an uncomfortable halt – the oil’s come off the gears and it’s making an unfortunate squeaking sound not unlike one of those old subway trains they’re about to throw in a reef somewhere in the Atlantic. No one needs that. It’s crazy though that in a city like this, I miss those characters. Maybe it’s because you see someone on a platform shitting into a bag and you think ‘wow, only in NYC, what a character,’ but that is the extent of your relationship. I was lucky enough to have a personal relationship with some real characters. Perhaps for some folks I was fortunate enough to be one of those characters. But all the characters I know here remind me of characters I knew there. Sort of like when you duplicate a tape and it sounds just about the same as the original but not quite as crisp and clear.
I spent New Year’s in Chicago with Jonny Warbucks. Chicago has this kind of cold that cuts through your bones to the point that you might as well not be wearing anything because you can’t feel the difference anyhow. It was so cold my phone stopped working. But it was worth it. Saw a lot of me old muckers from the Laker years. Went to the IO, the MCA and other places with acronyms as well. I have a lot of very dear, very intense memories of my time in that city and going back brought many emotions, yet didn’t stop me making new memories. From the most bonkers New Year’s Eve in recent memory down a bar on Irving Park to Bunger cracking uncomfortable herpes and rape jokes in packed elevators in Water Tower Place, it was a week to remember. I can’t remember when I’ve had a week to remember in New York!
And now that you’ve chosen something
You told me you’ve chosen the same as before
So what is it I should know?
It’s what I don’t know
Thinking back to when we were all in Allendale, most folks said they’d be coming out here. This was the place everyone wanted to be! But it isn’t. It feels like everyone that came out became miserable about what they did to make it out here, and those that didn’t… are generally quite boring. It feels not all it’s cracked up to be. The lustre’s just come off a bit. I’ll admit it: I’m bored in NYC. The good news is that this has kicked up the inspiration to see the world again. To take some time off and do the trips I want, a few sneaky weekends back in the midwest, see all of the characters and meet new ones and recapture the spice ‘ay life.
Anyway, someone gave me some Motley Crue books the other day and it made me think of Tom Rexford. Tom was the closest link to that band that we had. Because it takes the slightest gesture to spark memories of real characters. The characters that bring colour to our lives.
Skating Among Skyscrapers November 25, 2008
Posted by coqfosters in All your life, NYC.Tags: health, life, music, new york
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EC came down and asked if we wanted to go ice skating on Friday. It was her birthday do. Just the idea of it was euphoric. Bryant Park? I’m there.
I mustn’t have been skating in what seemed like years. That’s probably because it was years. I never used to go a week without hitting the ice, even in the summer. I put my skates in my bag Friday before work and wouldn’t have had to worry about ruining it – the blades were too dull from years of moving from closet to closet.
We met in front of the office and headed up on the R to Bryant Park. It’s a miniature Winter Wonderland they’ve built beneath the skyscrapers, with no small contribution from Citi, whose massive banners were all over the park letting us know in no uncertain terms who was subsidising our free skate. You’d have thought with the massive layoffs they wouldn’t have money for that, but as I’m all too aware, it seems most of business is style over substance.
On the first properly cold Friday of the year, it’s no surprise the crowd was massive, but what amazed me was that there were loads of great skaters in the crowd, mostly kids. Where did these people grow up in NYC that they could skate consistently enough to get that good? With the exception of the Chelsea Sky Rink, it seems every other rink is outdoors. Ice time is hard to come by.
On the other hand, I was surprised at how well I could skate. I’d always been extremely confident but it really is like riding a bicycle, you don’t forget how to do it. What I did forget though was how much better I felt from doing it, from the excercise, something I never got from running. Rollerblading isn’t the same, and when you’re ice skating you’re not the only chump doing it. I went back to the office afterwards and dropped off my skates in my desk. A new old hobby for winter worknights I feel…
Saturday night I headed back down into town for the We Are Scientists show at Irving. They’re running some great art on the Subway at the moment, even installation pieces. While waiting for the Q at 34th Street, I came across the REACH New York, An Urban Musical Instrument installation. If you didn’t see the signs, you wouldn’t have even known it was an art piece, just two green bars stretched along the platform. The idea is that you put your hands over various sensors and it makes sounds. There is a bar on the opposite platform as well, so uptown and downtown travellers can collaborate to make music together. A fantastic idea! A great break from the banality of staring into space on the platform wondering if the train is ever going to come.
Once I got on the Q (one of the brilliant new R160s), I also noticed the fantastic piece above from Chris Gall spanning the bench opposite. Gall is a fantastic artist in his own right and you can find more of his work on his website.
Finally, I met up for drinks with RJ at the King’s Head and then headed over to the show. The last time I saw W.A.S. was at The Syndicate party during last year’s CMJ. They were still working on new material and it wasn’t a hugely confident show. The difference in their stage presence was like night and day. This was a mature band, segueing seamlessly from track to track. Decent turnout as well, and you couldn’t throw your drink without hitting a socialite (though that’d likely be the point). The only down side of the gig was that the mix was substandard and Keith’s guitar (and at times his vocals) was drowned out for much of the show. But nevertheless it felt like seeing a band come of age.
It was the last gig of a busy concert season, and likely of the year for me. Kentucky calls on Wednesday, and then we regroup for a frantic finish to the year before the holidays. Still not exactly sure where I’ll be on New Year’s, but all signs at the moment point to heading from the 212 to the 312 for 2009. If you’re going to be in the Windy City too, give me a shout.
Lady’s Bridge November 2, 2008
Posted by coqfosters in All your life, Music business.Tags: europe, life, music, work
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The idea of an album about a place, whether in name alone or in actual execution, is always incredible. I’m listening to Richard Hawley’s Lady’s Bridge right now, the album which takes its name from the bridge of the same name in Sheffield, linking the Wicker with Waingate. Fantastic sounding places, but you can find that out on Wikipedia.
Obviously the cross-section of listeners who can directly relate is always going to be limited depending where the artist is from (even if it’s a place like London or New York which are like outer space to most people who live in those cities’ respective countries). And I’ve never been to Sheffield. But Lady’s Bridge creates a magnificent association, it makes you want to experience what inspired Hawley. He’s one of those artists that I never really listened to as much as I should, despite his being involved in what seems like scores of projects from artists I always loved, particularly most Jarvis Cocker projects.
Tonight just seemed like a perfect night to put this album on. I look forward to nights in more than nights out. As much as I love an exceptional night out, there’s still nothing better than listening to a great album. It’s why it’s so hard for me to succumb to logic and leave the music industry – I could be doing so much better elsewhere! But the availability of great music always makes it worth the punishment and masochism involved in working in an industry run by know-nothings and do-littles, hell-bent on architecting the demise of art as we know it. Listening to Lady’s Bridge on the weekend makes the week tolerable. It’s not a record for the train, lush soundscapes that would get lost in the hustle and bustle (is bustle ever used in a sentence without being preceded by “hustle”?) of every day life. He must owe much inspiration, as his mate Cocker does, to Scott Walker. Roy Orbison is channelled here as well. It’s wonderful listening.
Every so often I do get the feeling that I should have done more when I was younger, in the same way I wonder whether in the future I’ll feel like spending the time in on the weekends now will feel like throwing away the best years of my life. A good record takes all of that away. It eliminates any undercurrent of negativity. It’s the only real relevant anaesthetic and certainly the cheapest. A good record makes you feel like things are possible.
Like Lady’s Bridge, I used to love writing about places, once I got over the idea of writing about frivolous things that generally get you worked up when you’re a teenager. Everyone wants to write songs about love but when there is something concrete in the shape of geography that can be attached to feelings and ideas, the result is so much more real. There is more romance in that than there is in love itself, a vacant concept.
Speaking of which, it looks like Paris is becoming a very real thing, pencilled in for 2/19 at the moment. It feels like an album release date, you just try to get everything lined up ahead of time and hope it doesn’t have to get pushed back for some reason. I’m excited, probably more excited than I’ve been for a trip in a long time. The transcontinental trip in May was amazing, but much more spontaneous. It will be great to have time to think about all the things I want to do ahead of time. If nothing else, it’s justification for staying in on a Saturday night to plan the next adventure. When you have the soundtrack and the inspiration, all that’s left to do is execute. It’s time to make a date with Air France.
In the meantime, I recommend: Richard Hawley – Tonight The Streets Are Ours
Le vent nous portera October 26, 2008
Posted by coqfosters in All your life, NYC.Tags: europe, life, music, new york, walking
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There is a certain greyness about New York in the autumn that is really quite evocative. Walking down the street is a bit like being the Bittersweet Symphony video, although usually I only knock over one or two grannies on a leisurely day out. But it does feel very cinematic.
I was out running errands on a grey day last weekend and stumbled into an incredible little market, completely out of the way on 25th street in what served as a carpark during the week. You’d only find it on accident, I don’t think anyone knew it was going to be there. But what characters! Fabulous African style masks, chandeliers and lamps that would look lovely cleaned up and restored to their full glory, art prints they’d tell you were rare, but probably weren’t. They’d tell you anything to move it. Old wedding gowns, hanging right there in the street! It was a very raw experience. Came across a great looking Shirley Bassey record but wasn’t going to be bothered for five bucks. Next time.
When I was a kid my parents always used to drag us round these horrible shopping trips, looking for nothing in particular. Markets, furniture stores, bric-a-brac… I don’t recall them ever buying anything on a single day out to one of these places. We had too much stuff anyway. The shoe’s on the other foot though now and I’ve started to become quite inspired by old stuff, design, etc. You walk through a market and wonder what it would be like to have a mansion and outfit it with all this ridiculous stuff from another time. Still a bit of a modernist at heart though.
I still get nostalgic for London. Defining experiences here seem to reinforce my memories of time in London. That market run reminded me of going up to Wembley before they destroyed the stadium and walking through the market on site there. After work on Friday I walked up to Penn Station. Penn Station is a defining cultural landmark I think, but more than anything else walking through the ticket hall reminded me of Victoria. Not as a straight comparison – they are aesthetically quite different – but the mood, experience, and atmosphere are essentially the same. I took the 1 train to Columbus Circle. I go into work later than most people and leave later than most people so I’m never really on packed trains. Instead of reminding me of what it’s like to be on a packed train in NYC at rush hour, it brought back memories of being crammed in a Central Line train out of Oxford Circus.
Even the nights out bring back the memories. I went out to see Late of the Pier play their CMJ showcase, followed by a James Lavelle DJ set and a masterclass in electrorock from Soulwax. LOTP were something else, and the Astralwerks crew looked quite pleased. James Lavelle was probably on for twice as long as he should have been, but the set made me think back to my first ever dance festival experience, at Creamfields, watching people go mad for sets by Carl Cox and Darren Emerson. Jonny Flaws was with me last night and pointed out that seeing a rock band is about experiencing the band, but seeing a DJ is about experiencing the moment with your friends. There’s a lot of truth to that. Pete Tong was the MC on the night and I remember listening to his old mixes on Radio 1 online back when I lived at home. Soulwax are geniuses and no mistake – they even audaciously managed to cover Daft Punk’s Robot Rock in what was an unbelievable set.
Despite the large nights, it’s been a fairly chill out mood lately. I hear the Kings of Leon album everywhere but all I want to deal in is Charlotte Gainsbourg, Sia, Gomez, Emiliana Torrini, Noir Desir’s quieter, moodier moments… and French cinema. I feel like despite all of this English nostalgia a trip to France is really on the cards. Paris is calling, perhaps by the death of 2008 but likelier at the birth of 2009. The time is coming to create new memories for which to become nostalgic, and I need them desperately, because unfortunately those critical moments are not being inspired by work anymore. I guess the market in a vacant carpark on a side street ends up being a relevant metaphor after all: if there’s nothing of interest you’re being supplied with, time to step off the beaten path to find something inspiring. Otherwise the grey days become less evocative of strong feelings and more of an obvious metaphor for life in their own right. It’s time to get to work and plot the next adventure. It can’t come soon enough.
