Sinister: Maybe tomorrow I'll want to settle down

Martin Robinson martin at xxx.uk
Mon Nov 8 14:12:13 GMT 1999


Hello friends, friends to be and even (shudder the thought) people who
actually watch Friends,

This week I have been mostly pretending to be a music journalist. This is
quite fun and mainly involves being a bit of a tosser, which I have been
excelling in for years, seeing many gigs and being opinionated about
everything. In fact, it is de rigueur in these circles to give everything
either a big thumbs up or thumbs down. Which seems quite strange when
applied to everyday things, for instance by coliander is very IN at the
moment as straining water is mirroring late 1990's postmodernism, but my
sieve is OUT as it's completely ripping off work my tea strainer's been
doing for years. In fact I am starting a new comic called Food Maker, or
maybe Kitchen Utensil Express. Maybe... Watch out for the forthcoming
coliander backlash though, or maybe Hungarian goulash, at least the recipe
for. Anyhow I digress...

I too agree with the eloquent Archel that The Littlest Hobo is a top tune.
It also has very profound lyrics, well I understand them anyway if that
counts. "Until tomorrow the whole world is my home." Aahhhh...

Anyway back to attending Ryan Giggs. Stereolab were most good last Monday
in fact they proverbially kicked arse which I found quite surprising, I was
over the moon with their performance. Super Furry Animals were also most
fantastic and the man of the match was definitely their closing version of
the "The Man Don't Give A Fuck" with full costume accompaniment. I also
attended the Arab Strap / Tindersticks affair which was very much a game of
two halves, though never were particularly intriguing. The gaffer reckoned
they would both be a lot better live than in my bedroom. But they weren't.
Maybe they should play live from my bedroom. Maybe not though as I don't
think I'd want that bearded chap talking about shagging in my bedroom
really. Call me old fashioned. Oh, and I also saw a band called the Boxing
Gloves, I think, whose spangly pop certainly packed a proverbial punch or two.

Anyway ,there's a voice that keeps on calling me. Down the road... Just
turn around, and I'm gone again.

Te ra,

Martin

ear confection recordings
(http://www.send.demon.co.uk)

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