No, really, its as true as I can make it. Its a fantastically bleepy vocoderd version of Love Will Tear Us Apart. Slightly sacreligious, one might feel if one could be drawn to make judgements like that, but what are icons for if not, well, clasting? Watch a space of your choice. Of course, Ive already made my pronouncement on it by not immediately spitting in its general direction. The malaise of not being able to stand up for or follow ideas through properly is an infuriating one prevalent in these alienated times. If something is worth thinking about in the first place, its worth developing thoroughly and bringing to a positive (or negative, ho ho) conclusion, and its maddening to come across people (and, of course, ones self, annoyingly) being smugly non-committal with their vaguely postmodern laziness. Sitting on damp cold fences gives you piles, kids. My personal comfort blanket at the moment is Stood On Gold by Gorkys Zygotic Mynci. Just to see its small yet perfectly formed vinyl loveliness begin to spin round (even before the music starts, just listening to the slight hiss through tasty Technics speakers) makes my bone marrow melt and my knotted intestines unravel with joy. And when its finished (and 7s finish so sweetly) the fragile arm of the cheap record player shifts from its active hovering position to glide silently back to the resting place where it comes to an halt with a tiny but definite click of satisfaction. Likewise the happiness of hearing Camera Obscura playing on the radio the other night. They r!o!c!k!e!d!, in particular showcasing the ivory-tickling talents of the (most likely glamorously fishnetted) Miss Carey Lander of this parish. I was a tad merry, having shared a bottle of Pinot Grigio with my mother over a most exciting green curry, and as the room revolved slowly about the central point of my futon in time to the gorgeous sounds from the stereo, all was well. Having spent far too much time _this_ weekend putting up my Mum's floor-length brown velvet curtains (very decadent and yet rather boring), I hope to be in London _next_ weekend to look at a house, go to the pub, and partake of at least a smidgen of the visit of the fragrant Ms Fruitloop. Oh, and maybe look at some art. So if I see any of you there, dont be offended if I seem absentminded. I shall probably be drunk. Which reminds me: I really should refrain from boozing quite so much at gigs. Its all very well, but my quality control goes right out the window, so the old critical faculties arent really up to appreciating the music. Or maybe Ive only seen fantastic bands lately. Brixton in only a couple of weeks! If people are interested, there are some photographs of last month's Brighton extravaganza at http://photos.yahoo.com/wintryme along with some other stuff from the latest batch of pictures I got returned with the aforementioned through the post. I love mail order photo development. Whoever it was that said theyve become addicted to buying things on the internet, Im with you there. Getting parcels in the post is so exciting because you never know precisely when theyre going to come, or whether the item purchased is going to live up to or even exceed expectations. Its the pleasurable uncertainty that one craves. Like being in love, no? Mmmm. Liz :x --- Tsuki-Yuki-Hana Twitch the blind and peep at the moon The big round moon like a piece of soap. It washes the daytime out of your eyes And fills them with night-time. Ivor Cutler --- _________________________________________________________________ Send and receive Hotmail on your mobile device: http://mobile.msn.com +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the Sinister mailing list +---+ To send to the list mail sinister@missprint.org. To unsubscribe send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to majordomo@missprint.org. WWW: http://www.missprint.org/sinister +-+ "sinsietr is a bit freaky" - stuart david, looper +-+ +-+ "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" "peculiarly deranged fanbase" +-+ +-+ "pasty-faced vegan geeks... and we LOST!" - NME April 2000 +-+ +-+ "frighteningly named Sinister List organisation" - NME May 2000 +-+ +-+ "sick posse of f**ked in the head psycho-fans" - NME June 2001 +-+ +-+ Nee, nee mun pish, chan pai dee kwa +-+ +-+ Snipp snapp snut, sa var sagan slut! +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+