Sinister: I love my thundercats figures (especially cheetara)

[Corduroy Boy]

I love the ice and snow.
I love marmite.
I love frogger.
I love my fleecy quilt.
I love my trainers that look like bowling shoes.
I love fruit cake with one thick layer of marzipan on it and no icing.
I love indie dancing.
I love frankfurters, but only when they're not cooked.
I love playing jazz.


I played jazz yesterday. I will play jazz tomorrow.
I love playing jazz, because it makes you feel buzzy and vibrant, or so darn
cool you could die. I love wearing the full works, dinner jacket, ruffled
shirt, bow tie. I love watching peoples faces and knowing that they think
they're having a great time listening and dancing to your sweet music, but
all along you know it's not a patch on how you feel playing it. I love jazz,
because the song always goes on too long or someone gets a bit wrapped up in
a solo, but the whole group know exactly when to finish.
This is why I love the music on I love my car. All that beautiful
improvisation that makes you swell up but when you play jazz like that you
know it's unique, you can hear it being played back to you but you'll never
get it just like that again, those perfectly timed trills and cadences. But
you're not sad, because you know that when the time comes you'll have
something else up your sleeve. Something unique, something special.



Having mentioned indie dancing, a friend of mine and I were talking about
the misfortune of dancing to indie infront of non-indie kids who are your
friends. I still dance how I want, but sometimes I'll see them around later
in the week and they say, "Can you remember dancing on friday?! Whoa, you
must have been soooo drunk!"
to which I can only smile weakly and reply, "Erm, yeah...hammered..."
Having only had ribena and soda.

A short comment on the alternative formats for our children (or me!) in the
future as brought to the surface by Idles:
I only recently made a decision to buy stuff on vinyl. It does smell funny,
yes, but it's actually cheaper in many places. Loads of people say, "It's so
impractical, you can't listen to it on the move, it gets damaged easily, it
takes up more space, it's harder to change and skip tracks, you can't
pre-program it, there's no indication of how long the song is..." and many
more, to which I have to say, "Well, yes, that's true."
*But* records were the start of it all. The start of music being easily
available to those who didn't play their own or just wanted to listen to
someone elses for a change. And they're so much more *personal*, the whole
idea that got me into it was just thinking about owning these beautiful
thick, shiny discs of vinyl, carefully removing it from it's cover, then
it's dust envelope, and everso precisely placing it on the player. Then,
carefully lifting the arm down but keeping it up so the record just spins,
brushing it with a felt and soft bristle brush, perpendicular to the grooves
and towards the outside. Then gently let the needle that you have sharpened
yourself (OK, maybe that's a bit OTT) down on to the shiny outside rim and
hearing that little "pfff-t", and watching it move closer and closer to the
duller grooved area until....
"da-da-da-da-da-da-da....
there you go, way too fast, don't slow down  you're gonna cra-a-ash..."
The Primitives. GRATE.
You can't let *that* die out, and the only way to do that is to buy the
things.
My friend has a tangerine dream lp, which is brilliant because it's quite
old and you can't tell where the peripheral noise stops and the track
begins, same with my copy of Atom Heart Mother.

Laura, I mean Miss Llew, Her Llewness, Queen Llewy, "Mrs Llew to you", the
Duchess of Llew etc, I have a question. Are "Bright Eyes" good? I would very
much favour your opinion. Oh, go on then, the rest of you can chip in as
well.

Who is that girl who posted her address for seemingly no reason? I am going
to send you a Christmas cardand some Opal Fruits, because you seemed nice.

Time to yell a few MAD PROPS TO EVERYONE WHO IS NICE, and Ken Chu.

Stakes of holly to you all, to be taken once, through the heart.

Corduroy Boy Tom
Of who it has been said, "Just who is Corduroy Boy and what is his problem?"


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