November 2009


You said “send me stationary to make me horny”
So I always write you letters in multicolours
Decorating envelopes for foreplay
Damn extended metaphors, I get carried away

On the back of a natural disaster, fixed with parcel tape and with kids sticking plasters
Nothing says “I miss you” quite like war poetry you carved in your door with a Stanley knife

I know this was from a few years ago now but I was listening to it yesterday and the geeky lyrics still get me every time.  It’s built to appeal.

It’s bad enough you ever use the word as an adjective
But to suggest we do it in heels is really quite crass
And frankly, we’re reasonably practical
And we know the benefits of always doing these things in flats

Who can argue with the sense of that?  Plus my all time favourite:

If you catch me with my hands in the till
I promise, sugar, I wasn’t trying to steal
I’m just swimming in copper
to smell and pretend like a robot

Will I won’t I shall I shan’t I?  Write?  Well.  I’m unwell.  A long felt awareness of continually running at sub-par always seems to manifest whenever I take some time off.  Maybe the energy and stresses of work allowing my immune system to keep trucking on, keeping a low profile from the distracted awareness of my brain, crash and burn when I stop.  When the long weekend and relaxation kicked in it translated into rapid sinus congestion, sore throat and muzzy head.

Reasons to write?  One being the fun weekend we all had in Akaroa.  Got monumentally drunk Friday night with good friends and to my immense sense of self satisfaction I managed to play the entirety of Tarot Sport to a room full of people in a party type situation.  And only 2 people asked me to turn it off (cunningly by this point of the evening attention spans had been tequilaed down to bare seconds so I just ignored their pleas for musical leniency).  I actually played Street Horrrsing too but there was only one other left drinking and awake by that point so not sure I can claim that one.

Our sortie on Saturday for a bit of a ramble was scuppered when we arrived on the desolate beach to find a freaked out surfer who pointed us out to his 2 mates who were being swept out by the rip.  Our mate jumped in his kayak and went out to help the swept away guy (the other one made it to the rocks) while we went to call the coast guard.

One helicopter later, lots of standing around for us (plus a fuck load of paddling our mate) and all 3 were safe.  Good result and they were sheepishly nonplussed once it was all over.  Surfers are stupid.  We on the other hand went sea kayaking the following day and didn’t need helicopter rescue.  We did need burgers though.

Then we all got to see this:

And finally, perhaps the most joyous thing of all is that someone has posted the boot of the Royal Albert Hall gig by Mogwai from 2006.  In the 7 times I’ve seen them this was and still is the best they’ve ever been and I’ve been hoping for a copy ever since.  Everything about that night was perfect.  The venue was immense; the crowd were real fans, committed and politely quiet; the sound was enormous, it filled and decimated everything else in the hall, you could feel it through every inch of your body (I thought the bass on 2 rights was going to rupture my sternum); the version of 2 rights was the best I’ve ever heard live, the welcome return of Tracy and the second surprise encore (which I almost missed thinking they had gone) of a monumental and righteous MFMK was perfect.  I was there with a sweet Jewish San Franciscan girl I was sort of dating at the time at the end of a brief summer of letting go; she jumped a mile out of her seat at the noise mid way through fear satan and half way through MFMK said, ‘wait, this is…’

Yes it is; with a smile.  It felt better sharing it with someone and I was elated for days.  The recording’s pretty good so please download, listen and share it with me.