musicandchips

Thoughts from 30-Something London



Monday, May 24, 2004 :::

Lunch-break blog  

I saw Suw of chocnvodka fame over the weekend at a Ska-B-Q at my place; she's doing great in the blogosphere at the moment, and she reminded me how long it's been since I last posted, and how much I miss it. Work is crazy busy and I still don't have an adequate home computer, so postings will continue to be sporadic at best for the moment, but I've got to keep my toe in, however minimally.

Loads of politics that could be autopsied at the moment, but there's more than enough comment going on elsewhere, and I don't have the time to indulge in a major rant, so instead I will make a difficult confession of my own. On Friday night I committed a crime so heinous that I shake just relaying it. I still can't believe I did it; I mean I was thoroughly and comprehensively drunk at the time, and my judgement considerably impaired by sustained sleep deprivation over the last few weeks, but even so... I mean there are some crimes that are just unforgivable whatever the situation, for which no mitigating circumstances apply, and for those guilty of their perpetration the harshest of penalties should be mercilessly enforced. And I, in a moment of extreme weekness, enacted the greatest of these:

Kareoke.

I sang kareoke at the local pub.

Me.

I wasn't even physically coerced or threatened with violence.

I did 'Come Fly With Me'.

People clapped.

I'm so ashamed.

I mean, I've spent my entire life ranting and raving about the criminal nature of the passtime; inflicting bad songs 'sung' badly on unsuspecting and generally completely innocent people just out for an evening down the pub with their friends or family. Why do it? Sing along to the jukebox yes, by all means, but to actually have your drinken strangled-caterwaulings amplified and screached into all corners of the establishment; what kind of heartless sadist would even contemplate such an act of sheer aural violence? And yet there I was, merrily tooting my flute for all to suffer. Perhaps it's time to re-evaluate my relationship with sambucca.

Having said that I went some way to atoning for my sins by hosting one of the best Ska-B-Q's and parties we've ever thrown on Saturday, and helped a friend move house on Sunday. So perhaps I'm not all bad. Also I've just thought of a worse crime than Kareoke; that Scissor Sisters cover of Pink Floyd's 'Comfortably Numb', a truly unforgivable act of musical terrorism from which I will never ever recover. Yup, I'm Ok really.

Loads of great sound-tracks at the minute, from the obvious (new Streets, Ash and Keane albums) to the not-so (12 Rods' 2002 album demos and the new Alan Parsons album), but mostly I have been listening to the ambient electronica mix CD my flatmate and liggerswithattitude partner did whilst under the spell of 'inspiration cigarettes' in about 1994. I'd disseminate copies, but that's in breach of copyright law and illegal, and threatens the very fabric of our society. Or something.


::: posted by Andy at 5/24/2004 12:09:00 PM








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