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Well, I'm currently unemployed and facing four months of nothingness. The structure of my course means having to go back in October for a final three months and the odd break has caught me a little unawares, despite the fact that I've known it was coming since last October. I'm absolutely broke, relying on the very last of my savings to get me through the summer. I need to take my driving test before I go back, which means I need to get back behind the wheel and start learning again; it's ten years since I last got in the driver's seat of a car. The last few years, the thought of driving has given me the shakes. Don't know why, exactly, but it's the one thing I seem to have a real fear of (save heights, which has always been a physical thing anyway). I need to do it, though - my employment prospects are precisely fuck all otherwise. I rediscovered my love for Ken Parker's recording of Jimmy Brown earlier today, by the way. The weather's suddenly got pleasant around here, so it was kind of inevitable - sunshine, cloudless skies, a warm breeze and old Jamaican tunes are an absolutely unbeatable combination. I'm always amazed by how difficult it is to write a paltry 2,000 words on something you've got absolutely no interest in. This screen's been staring back at me all day as I've tried to find the motivation to get on with work that's due in tomorrow. There's no question that I'll do it and hand it in when I'm supposed to - I've not missed a deadline in the three years of the course and I'm not about to start - but right at this moment in time I just can't see how what I hand in will be of any substance. I'm going to do a bit of creative rewriting on the question and hand in a slightly different report than the one I've been asked for, as making out that I've misread the question is a more attractive proposition than writing something that makes no sense whatsoever. Anyway, you can consider this my 'avoiding repsonsibilities' post. Oh yeah, notice how I've... ahem... 'adopted' the use of post headings from various other blogs? I've been a bit worried that teh way I fiddled with the blog template has made it a bit difficult to separate posts out and this seems like the best solution. Whether I can be bothered doing it every time remains to be seen. Uncanny E-Men I don't look anything like the other members of my family. Whereas my brother or sister will frequesntly get told that they look "just like your uncle/dad/aunt/gran" blah blah, I'm generally saved the embarrassment. The only exception to this rule is my mum, who'll often comment on how much I look like her dad (it's a build thing; the rest of my family are fairly stocky, I'm skinny as a rake). Previously I've only had her word - and that of her relatives - for it. There are about two photos of the guy, who died before I was born, both taken when he was grey and the cancer was eating him. I've just seen another one that's hanging on one of the walls of my parent's house. I knew this photograph existed, I've looked at it a few times, but I've never really looked at it before. It's frightening. It's a group of seven guys in a band - a couple of trumpets, two sax players, a double bass, percussion and piano - taken, I guess, in the mid-late '30s. I couldn't remember which one is supposed to be my mum's dad, so I had a closer look. There, sitting by the piano, looking right back at me is... well, me. He's the only one wearing glasses, which is a bit of a giveaway, but when you look properly you see that everything about his face is the same as mine. Alright, maybe not everything; his is a little fuller than mine and has a slightly more stern look to it. He's also got a full head of black hair, while I'm a balding light brown, but otherwise the resemblance is uncanny. I mean, it's not often that you'll agree with anyone when they say that you look like somebody else, let alone notice the similarities yourself without prompting. A real B movie "Give me my face back!" moment. It's also made me realise that I don't really know anything about my mum's family. My dad's I'm fully aware of; mother from Orkney, became a teacher in South London, sister, for those that are interested, of Scots novelist Eric Linklater; father from Edinburgh, variety of jobs including pit worker, Petty Officer in the navy, part of a team that retrieved bounty from the German fleet that was sunk at Scapa Flow, ended up a lecturer in various financial subjects in London colleges. All I know about my mum's family is that they're all from around Ashton in Makerfield. I've got the vague feeling that the men were all involved in the coal industry, but other than that I'm entirely in the dark. That can't be right. I stole the face of one of them; I owe it to him to at least find out about his life. By the way, I realise that as far as those Third Eye Foundation posts go I turned the camera off just before the money shot. I'll write up the latest album this weekend, once I've got (avoiding) this work out of the way. First, a disclaimer: at the time of writing, I�ve still not got around to hearing the original versions of any of the ..Juju� tracks, so I�ve got no idea how the remixes compare. The first track is Yann Tiersen�s La Dispute. A simple Parisian melody plays out on a piano while a ghostly breeze stirs in the background. Eventually, a wheezing accordion joins the fray for a short period, before the vocal track from Lost gets superimposed over the top of the tune with added vinyl hiss and crackle. The accordion comes in again towards the end and the piece builds up to a crescendo. It�s remarkable just how well the elements taken from Lost fit in here. The sound envelops you totally and you lose yourself in its various layers. The next remix is of Tarwater�s To Describe You. A night time slink through deserted streets for the first half, electronic beats and flutters enter the mix at the halfway point, the ambience turning from downbeat, sinister French chic into something a little more urgent. Urchin�s Snuffed Candles follows. It�s reminiscent of a couple of the earlier tracks on Little Lost Soul (Half A Tiger and Stone Cold Said So in particular) and while it doesn�t do anything massively different from other 3EF recordings/remixes, it fits in with the rest of ..Juju� well. It�s easy to forget that this is largely a collection of previously-released mixes rather than an album proper, such is the manner in which they all fit together. As Snuffed Candles comes top a close it veers off on a tangent, sounding like a twisted take on a classical piece for kids. Remote Viewer�s All Of The WCKWC Want To BE Abstract begins with glitchy beats and clicks, a few 1970s space movie beeps behind them. Acoustic guitar begins to play a refrain over the top of them and more prominent, structured glitch beats join it. A clam drum and bass rhythm gets included later. The piece begins to take on an elevating, affirming quality similar to Goddamnit You�ve Got To Kind when a less ominous version of the standard 3EF wails provide another gentle layer. A beautiful number. The collaboration/battle with Chris Morris is something else entirely. Anyone who knows Morris� Blue Jam radio show knows that he likes his ambient dark, sick, twisted and horribly funny. That�s what you get here, a steady d�n�b rhythm constant throughout, initially providing foundation for a few low moans and calls, then Morris� trademark nightmare vibes take over. I don�t know what it is, but I like it. It�s one of the funniest, strangest 3EF tracks available and a must for Morris enthusiasts. Blonde Redhead�s Four Damaged Lemons becomes a delicate funereal music box lament, beautifully cold, and Faultline�s MUTE an industrial soundtrack that wouldn�t sound out of place on Ghost. Brilliant as all these tracks are, they pale in comparison with the wonder that is the remix of Glanta�s When I Dance; sexy, slinky, suggestive, alluring. Elliott hollows it out, gives crackle and spark. It�s proof, if proof were needed, that he�d make an astonishing producer. Remix collections are usually bitty, disjointed affairs. This one�s something of a triumph (if you don�t give a shit about any of this stuff after all these posts I still highly recommend finding yourselves a copy of When I Dance. A perfect full stop to a career, and as good an album as those �proper� 3EF releases. The last couple of months have restored my wavering faith. And how. |
Losing the fight against mediocrity for the last few years. | ||
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