Sinister: The self-referential society (do not read if you value your sanity)

[Alasdair Cook MC1996]

The spirit of rock 'n' roll is alive and well, and it is dedicated to
the first Sugercubes album. Where were YOU in '89? Have you ever
dedicated an ideaological way of life to such a transitory item as a pop
record? It seems churlish to me, but then perhaps I am not sufficiently
imbued with the ghosts of The Camden Falcon. Or even The Spreadeagle,
stretching the point somewhat, at such times as certain unknown (but no
less - or, perhaps perversely - more important) pop icons have graced
it's hallowed bar stools with their messy-haired presence.

Perhaps pop should not be dedicated to aspects of life, instead we
should postulate the theory that pop music IS life itself. Every
intonation of the picking hand fires the imagination, especially when
said player is of sufficient talent to rise above even his or her
band-mates (good as they may be) and lift otherwise pleasant songs to
stratospheres as yet uncharted. My God, he plays it BETTER LIVE!

Contained within even the most basic of lyrical movements, something
will stir the belly of one small boy, who watches, and dreams, or
doesn't dream, but does. What was the first song YOU ever wrote? Dreams
are never meant to be real, though. He dreamt of adoring crowds and all
he got was this lousy quiff. Waiting for the more important to
soundcheck. Going nowhere to most folks, travelling at light-speed to
others. Perahps they cancel each other out and he ends up back where he
started, confused, but happy. And with the memories. Where were YOU in
'99?

Some people even find love through pop music. He met a girl. She moved
away. He wrote a song. He went to find her. He would have swum the
ocean, but a plane was more convenient, and much less tiring. They
flaunted their imperfections at each other, and were happy for a while.
Some things ARE more important.

A snapshot of his life was all he ever gave them, but the flash didn't
wake them up, it was the music that did that. The music of someone he
loved. They went to the park. Someone, somewhere, caught a bus.

Alasdair Cook is out at the moment. Please leave a message after the
tone. Beeep...

xx
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