Tuesday, June 24, 2008

7 Up

Funny how a few days off makes you lose all momentum. So I'm perversely grateful for Mr Impostume’s invitation to tell the world (well, you know…) my favourite seven songs of the moment. A bit off piste for me so I’ll try not to get too NME circa 1988 about it and go on about crystalline guitars and stalactites of sound. I won't tag anyone because I have used up my tagging goodwill the last time. So...

Concerning the UFO sighting near Highland, Illinois – Sufjan Stevens.

Stevens can be a bit too close to Paul Simon for my comfort but this is altogether stranger and more alien, more like something from the darker side of the 1970’s, the accompaniment to a Richard Prince painting of mid-western farmers staring up at strange lights in the sky, or the existential angst of Richard Dreyfus in Close Encounters. It manages to sound both awe struck and painfully slight, like it might be blown away at any moment and it stops long before you expect it to, which is always good. I believe it’s probably about God but that’s ok with me.

Ghosts – Japan.

From a time when pop was obsessed with exotic otherness and gloriously unafraid to be pretentious this is a masterpiece of grandly arch songwriting. It’s also oddly heartbreaking, David Silvian’s voice cracking with a mixture of emotion and affectation. A perfect balancing act caught between debonair croon and genuine despair. Good xylophone too.

Landslide - Fleetwood Mac.

I have something of a soft spot for Fleetwood Mac especially Stevie Nicks era Fleetwood Mac (well only Stevie Nicks era Fleetwood Mac to be fair) and this is beautiful, a barefoot gypsy skirted lament for lost innocence and a dawning sense of her own mortality sung when she must have been about 24, which only makes it sadder.

Push The Button - Sugababes/Orson.

Slightly sacrilegious I know, but I'm plumping for Orson's cover version for sentimental reasons although its not strictly as blindin' as The Sugababes' stroppily libidinous original. Incidentally, in a rare brush with glamour for me I once sat at the same table for dinner as Heidi from the Sugababes. She was very short.

Don’t Talk to Strangers - Ariel Pink.

Sounds like the whole of the 1980’s being played out the window of a car passing you on the freeway while the tape recorder melts in the sunshine onto the seats like an ice cream. I can’t get enough of that sort of thing. It was the same with The Avalanches’ Everyday, which sounds like being trapped in the broom cupboard of a villa in the South of France whilst outside an incredibly glamorous party is taking place.

Millionaire - Queens of the Stone Age.

Has the best pause in any rock song ever, like the the moment of calm as someone catches their breath before throwing you headfirst out of a window. Brings an utterly propulsive thrill every time it happens.

Automatically Sunshine - Diana Ross.

Absolutely, without a shadow of a doubt, the best song to accompany one's wife walking up the aisle.

Cautious Opening

The ol' interweb is sometimes tiring and sometimes a strange and mysterious place where strands of thought and unlikely connections take you on delightful journeys of coincidence. Or maybe its not coincidence, maybe it's simply that it connects you quicker and more efficiently to places and people you might have taken years to discover otherwise.

Take for example this typically obscure set of linkages. Fresh from reading an article on wind farm protesters, I followed Sit down man's link to the Sequipedalist's excellent piece on the origins of electricity pylons, objects which have long fascinated me precisely because of their odd invisibility to the kind of Nimby aversion to wind farms he mentions (in comparison to much smaller structures in the landscape), as well as their strange beauty. From the Sequipedalist to Things and another link to Blissblog's recent posts where I'm intrigued by a reference to band July Skies, whose myspace site lists 'pylons marching across fields' as one of their favourite things. Sadly, they are silent on the subject of wind farms. Regardless, its enough to make me want to buy their album. All of which is not meant to reduce these things to some kind of viral marketing strategy but to enjoy the mysterious drift of ideas.

Longer more consequential posts to come including a response to the impostume's kind invitation to list my current favourite songs as well as a tribute to Fidel Castro's ice cream parlour policy.

Monday, June 9, 2008

If we took a holiday, just some time to get away

This blog is taking a holiday. In fact this blog is taking a honeymoon. It's the old story: blog meets blog. They fall in love, marry and go on holiday to Cuba. So, no postings for a couple of weeks. Total radio silence. In the meantime, posted below are some (more) thoughts on architecture-less architecture.