Sinister: Reporting Bach

[Liz Daplyn]

Well hello there chickens.

HASTA LA VISTA

  Like rats leaving a sinking city, the young and the restless are 
(re)emigrating for shorter or longer periods of time depending on finance 
and inclination.  The restless having inspired the Sarah Garret Sonner 
Memorial Games a couple of weeks ago and the young being Greg, whose 
farewell picnic of the weekend was as drunken and damp as anyone could wish 
for, even Mark.  And we liberated a flat football from a tree.  Not to 
mention communing with a scraggy urban fox at the stage of the night when 
the red wine wears off and it's time to catch the nightbus or a nasty cold.  
Or both.

JE NE COMPRENDS PAS

  Anyway, something inspired me last night to listen to the recent Peel 
session again, and even sober I still like it.  Particularly Love on the 
March (am a sucker for Astrud-Gilertesquerie and other bossa nova stylings) 
and Desperation Made a Fool of Me.  A bit dubious about You Don't Send Me: I 
know it's difficult to rhyme with 'offend me', but 'you don't send me...' 
flowers?  Text messages?  Insane?  Grammatically inelegant, I'm calling it, 
and I'm a fan of the split infinitive, you know.

I QUATTRO STAGIONE

  God I love the BBC.  Televised last night (previous to my tape-listening 
antics.  Bugger, that reminds me - my tape tree tape will be in the post 
tomorrow, to whomever it concerns) from the Royal Albert Hall (scene of last 
autumn's triumphant B&S do - content!), a Henry Wood Promenade concert 
consisting of the Best Vivaldi Album in the World Ever Part III, performed 
con brio but with occasional glibness by the rather good Venice Baroque 
Orchestra.  Italianissimo.  The chamber organ was a little lost in the 
space, but the lutenist was manic and fab.  Belfast Bob could take a few 
lessons in fretwankery.

A LA RECHERCHE DES TEMPS PERDU(ES?)

  This all took me back to even before being on Sinister, sitting in my room 
at home revising for my GCSEs to the accompaniment of tapes of works by 
Antonio, also his mates Georg Frideric, Arcangelo and Jean-Baptiste.  *sigh* 
  Nostalgia for horrible teenage things like exams and such.  However, and 
this is a rather laboured segue but bear with it: Sinister is one of the few 
things that I first encountered while (still just) a ghastly teenager, and 
it's had the grace to remain a thing of beauty and occasional annoyance in 
my life ever since.  Gawd bless.

  Eeeek!  Must buy new red pants.  Last year's are in Wales.  Profundity is 
quite beyond me at the moment, but I'm still quite good at baking so I'll 
see some of you in a couple of weeks for fun and games.

  Love,
    Liz :x

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