Sinister: Standing on a corner in Winslow, Arizona

Daplyn Elizabeth elizabeth.daplyn at xxx.com
Thu Dec 6 13:41:14 GMT 2001


...and I'm quite sure I'm in the wrong song.

What I want for Christmas, apart from Elijah Wood (is is freaky to fancy
a Hobbit?) is a Tigermilking in that there London Village, the which I'm
sure Il Biondino Mark is working on if he knows what's good for him.
New Year will do, but I feel the need to dance like a loon, and South
Wales is not the place for it, unless the dancefloor is made of coal.

My Powerpuff Girls advent calendar has been broached, the goose is
apparently getting fat, and the Festive 50 is upon us again.  However,
it may well be a bit too chirpy for those of us who are perpetually
lovelorn ie. seemingly most of the contributing list, soppy buggers that
you (we) are.  Lurkers may all be happily married and wildly in love,
but I somehow doubt it.  Anyway, even lucky sods like Mr Apps and Ms
Fruitloop must have somber moments, when contemplating the vagaries of
the universe simply cannot be done to the accompaniment of pretty music
about happy things.  

So, then, howsabout letting me know your top three Moping About
Relationships albums?  A Misery Loves Company (not the musical.  Or the
piece by Philip Glass, for that matter) chart may be compiled if I can
be bothered.  For starters, here's my current run-down:

  3. Reading, Writing and Arithmetic - The Sundays: "I never should have
said/ that the books that you read/ were all I loved you for" is exactly
the kind of thing I find myself regretting.  Vitriol is satisfying in
the coolth of the moment.  But.
  2. Vivadixiesubmarinetransmissionplot - Sparklehorse: "I want my
records back/ and that motorcycle gas-tank I spraypainted black".  And
because I got my dad to buy it for my birthday a couple of years ago and
had to dictate the title letter by letter several times.
  1. The Good Will Out - Embrace: Ooh, I can just hear the stones,
pointy sticks and other missiles coming my way.  If you disregard the
attempts to rock out shouty-style, it makes half a gorgeously gloomy
album.  I stand by what I've said previously about French horns.  And
just because.

Please reply chez moi, as littering lists with lists is neither big nor
clever.

Anyway, aren't most pop songs (most artworks, full stop?) either about
getting it on or whinging about not getting off?  Even the standard
'hello trees, hello sky, you're lovely' (copyright The Field Mice) song
is a c/overt variation on

"I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er hill and vale;
I saw some nice flowers and pleasant shrubs
And thought if I wrote a poem about them
I'd get a snog.
Was I right?"

Faced with a painful choice between devoting your precious time to
artistic or romantic endeavour?  Why not combine the two?  I'm just
saying, see.
  
Working for the joy of giving?  No thanks.  But the company I'm temping
for produces CDs for Beggar's Banquet (and Mute, Wiija, Setanta, blah
blah, blah blah), which means that records by Hefner, Gorky's Zygotic
Mynci, The Fall, Avalanches, Badly Drawn Boy etc. are made here IN THIS
VERY BUILDING.  Also Fields of the Nephilim.  Cor.  Exciting, eh?  Oh,
what idleness and a customer database can engender.

* * *

When cars on a dark motorway start weaving and dancing in time to the
music on the stereo, you've either had a bit too much to drink or are
experiencing a moment of great serendipity.

  Liz D :x

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