It's been an odd day , today. Absolutely everything went wrong at work, culminating in the entire desk freezing up. Finished my shift in the old production suite for Capital FM on the 3rd floor- it's a tatty little studio, with it's only saving grace being the fact that it's got an analogue desk. Analogue is so much snappier than Digital: the segues and links become razor-sharp. But...as I said, the studio had seen better days.
Then, all the email servers locked up and every printer in the building went off-line. By the time I left, I was fighting a rising sense of resignation and tension, allayed only by the purchase of some musical goodness from Fopp on my way home. Tonight is therefore full of Faust and might end up with me checking out "The Ice Storm". It's also a day which follows a night of restless sleep for me: i'm sure it's got a lot to do with the weather. I'm one of those people who seems to have in-built sensors to detect the moments when the weather swings between phases; hot to cold, high to low pressure. Today has seen the clammy heat of the last few days bottleneck itself into one of those situations where release is the only option. As I'm typing this, I can feel the temperature sinking like a stone: Thunder and Lightning can't be far off. Being so high up here, that's always a near biblical experience. The clouds are already fat with rain, heavy and brooding, the noise of the planes flying through them bouncing back to earth with greater intensity. They become more opaque as well: West London is wearing a wooly cloak of cloudy luminescence. I'm listening to Wim Mertens, sipping a Vodka and Coke, resigning myself to a long and peaceful sleep.

Absolutely immersed in all the This Mortal Coil CD's at the moment. *Drifts off to sleep in a state of advanced reverie*
I wish you all bliss. G'Night all.

Great night tonight, went to the BMG/Zomba pop quiz up in town (we came second) then got a taxi home. The whole of Hyde Park must have had its grass shorn today, the smell of grass clippings filled the cab as we sped past Lancaster Gate: it was actually quite intoxicating.

Been a busy couple of days, lots of gigs. Saw Keane over at the forum; but was solely in attendance to see the support acts: Thirteen Senses and Bell X1. Thirteen Senses were slightly hesitant, but then again, playing a big venue like that early on is always fraught with difficulty. Bell X1 were wonderful, their set containing one of the most magical pieces of gig theatre ever. To precis, singer starts to jump around the stage,falls over bass guitarists monitor wedge, lies on ground with legs waving in the air, continues playing, finally gets to his feet obviously mortified and the audience rewards him with a cheer of genuine love and affection. If you can make a total cock of yourself in front of that many people and look truly contrite, they'll love you forever.
Another voice-over booked for this evening (hurrah!) then it's off to meet Kirk in the Spanish Bar.

New blogger interface. Seems crap.

Sorry. I've been rather lax of late as far as updates go..but it's been an odd few days. first I find out that an old friend of mine died at the weekend, then another long-lost friend turns up. Bad news is, he's in jail. I'm really overjoyed to hear he's fine, but slightly humbled to be the only person chosen as a conduit to the outside world. It's all left me a little detached. Off to the Thirst bar tonight for some DJ action...then some sleep would be nice. *Sighs*

Rain, rain ,rain. Where did summer go? It was only here for two days. Bah, I was starting to obsess about skating everywhere as well.

Do guitars have souls?
Got my '74 Tele yesterday evening, it's the most wondrous thing i've ever owned. But, the strange thing is, it's a little bit tricky to play. The action is great, the neck is a dream... it's just...sort of involved. It's as if all those people who've played it before me have imprinted their musical knowledge into its DNA: as a real novice, I get knocked back by the guitar when I try and play it. All that expereince that's buried deep in the grain of it's body...seems to resist being unlocked by a mere chancer such as I. However, it's as I would have expected, this is a guitar with some serious history: i've got to treat it with some serious reverence and i'll get back so much more.
Great night last night, off to Death Disco. Wish I could remember it all. *takes some more resolve*

Oooh, nearly forgot. Cool screensaver which will turn your monitor into a plane (Sort Of.)

A day of strange weather yesterday, when I got off the tube from work, the air had that wonderful ozone freshness to it, but things changed really quickly. By 7 o'clock, we were enduring a huge thunderstorm, hail and flash floods (one closed the M41).
Hmmmmph. I was rather loooking forward to another week of fine sunny weather so I could get skating again. IT's always round about April/May that the urge to skate appears: if I do nothing, my dreams end up full of smith grinds.

I'm currently listening to one thing. One thing only. Made to Love Magic. Tears in my eyes again.

Back in London after a wonderful sunny weekend in Brighton. It's really the most amazing place in the spring: there's a real sense of excitement about the coming months, whereas London still seems shrouded in a fug of laissez-faire bewilderment.
Looks like I may have got myself a vintage Telecaster. It's only been a month since I started to play, but the Tele seems to have it's claws in me: I became obsessed with the idea of an old guitar supplying me with knowledge via some strange form of musical osmosis. The upshot of all this is that a '74 blonde Tele should soon be mine. Hurrah!

Busy couple of days....Tuesday night was the launch for the new David Devant album over at Lock 17 (which used to be Dingwalls) Good gig, great night out, but the trouble with midweek aftershow parties is that by the time you're hitting the free bar it's nearly midnight. Felt like shit this morning. Tonight was the launch of Wall of Sounds new compilation CD "Two Cultures Clash", which is a fabulous idea: get the of UK and european dance music producers (Cassius, Roni Size, Howie B, etc) and get them over to Jamaica to record with the llikes of Ward 21, Danny English, Cecile and Bling Dawg. The finished results are amazing. A truly pan-cultural dancehall explosion.

Yes, it's real. And, I got linked; which is the coolest thing that's happened to me in ages. When I started this little blog, it was purely as some sort of pressure release valve. I write most of it when i'm away from home, in my little garret in West London. So it's a strange feeling when it's embraced by others; there's comfort in anothers embrace- mingled with a smidgeon of fear, as if the tide is pulling you away from the shore, into the unknown.
It's a sunny evening, the sun is actually so bright i'll have to draw the blinds. Will sit on the balcony, look at the sky and listen to some Lowgold. It is the golden hour, after all.

Today, it's all about these two sites: Teenage Angst Poems, and the 10 worst album covers ever.
Great gig last night, like watching the BMX Bandits playing the first Voidoids album.