What's your musical horoscope? (Put your music player on shuffle and write down the first 10 songs that come up.) Inspired by Stephanie.
I dont usually listen to my ipod on shuffle. Especially if I'm in a crowded bus or train and if/when a song that does not particularly suit the mood I'm in comes on, it'd be such a drag to try and skip it. I have playlists for the usual situations like the daily commute and such. But shuffling my ipod now, I get:
1. The Clientele - When I Get Home From The Party
2. The Ladybug Transistor - Choking On Air
3. Sufjan Stevens - Jacksonville
4. Belle And Sebastian - Step Into My Office, Baby
5. Saturday Looks Good To Me - We Can't Work It Out
6. Camera Obscura - I Need All The Friends I Can Get
7. Jason Collett - I'll Bring The Sun
8. Teenage Fanclub - Verisimilitude
9. Ambulance Ltd - Stay Tuned
10. The Arcade Fire - Wake Up
I dont know what it says about me, really. It looks pretty random to me.
I've started a new project combining my love for words and music. It's called Soundscapes and it is crafted to describe those moments of your life where words just arent enough. I know that mixtape type things are done to death already but hopefully this one will be slightly different. Please check it out here, and let me know any comments or suggestions for improvement. Thanks!
I'm a total geek when it comes to stuff like these. I revel in reading manuals and testing out all the configurations etc. I havent really test-driven my camera because I want to be sure I know what I'm doing, especially since this camera has full manual controls, aperture priority and shutter-speed priority (Swwweeetttt!). Even though I got a good deal for this camera (along with freebies), it still made a small dent in my wallet and hopefully it's going to be all worth it.
Writing songscapes is an idea I came up with a while back to try and articulate the feelings I have at certain points in my life. Life often flies past and it's hard to stand still sometimes and examine its moments. I believe that sometimes certain pieces of music can help you stand still and savour the moment before you have to move on with your life again.
I've written some others (#1 and 2 obviously) and maybe I will upload them here some other time.
I'm standing near enough to feel the heat but not near enough for it to be dangerous. Down below, it is intensely alive in bursts of reds, browns, yellows, oranges, and blacks. Smoke and ash rush up towards the sky as rockets of yellow shoot around in all directions. It was like a monstrous demon had somehow gotten trapped under all that rock and is now struggling to get free again. As the viscuous mass coughs up more smoke and ash, I hold my breath, not knowing when exactly hell will break loose and be unleashed against the surrounding plains. Lava begins to spill and flow down as stones and boulders get thrown out of its way. Cracks appear along the sides as the beast struggles to break free. The sky turned black and the thundering roar of the volcano will strike fear even in the strongest of warriors. The tension is unbearable, as for a moment, everything stands still. Suddenly, the volcano heaved and gave a final gutteral growl as all the reds and browns and oranges broke the cauldron and swept away everything in its path. Strangely enough, I am not afraid; it is almost comforting as I breathe a sigh of relief. I think about the time it took for the volcano to become the force it is today. The storms it had weathered, the years of nothingness, of standing still and then everything finally gets a chance to break free. I must have stood there awestruck when someone pulled at my sleeve, "we have to go," he said. "It's getting too close." As we scampered out of harm's way, I can't help thinking that I have somehow been purged and now I am cleansed and purified by the fire and ready to make a fresh start.
Disclaimer: this is by no means an objective review of the Mogwai gig that took place in Singapore, Esplanade Theatre on August 1, 2006. The writer is extremely biased towards the band.
Having crossed out every single day on my calendar towards August 1, it's safe to say that my expectations for the Mogwai gig are more than sky high. And the boys did not disappoint. Shuffling out in green Adidas jackets to a recording of a traditional Celtic choir in the background, the boys had big genuine smiles on their faces. Stuart was shy at first and merely said hello to all but slowly warmed up to bantering from the crowd.
Barring a few technical hiccups (I think I only counted 2), the band was tighter than tight. The set was a Mogwai fan's dream come true. Drawing equally from all five albums, the band showed true professionalism and an inherent pride in their oeuvre, be it past or present.
It would be hard to pick out a favourite moment or track throughout the gig. Sure, the crowd went mad for Glasgow Mega-Snake. But for me, the segue from Hunted By A Freak to a reworked version of Fear Satan, was one of the more memorable moments. It stands testament both to the underlying coherence throughout their repetoire as well as to the band's willingness to innovate, as the two tracks came from different albums. The boys displayed more than mere technical prowess; their music is both commanding and soothing at the same time. To say that the moment was an act of seamless mastery is an understatement.
Time stopped for me as I try to digest this amazingly unreal reality. I am still reeling from the entire set and I'm not hundred percent sure that I'm not dreaming this up.
Is this what they mean when they say that music transports you and brings you outside of yourself? That must be the closest to what I was feeling because there just isn't any other way I can describe this. Perhaps the most amazing fact of all is that the music is performed by mere mortals. They breathe the same air and walk the same earth as I do yet they are given this ability to transform reality for all. Everyone present was touched at some level by the music and it's hard to deny the power of the wall of sound. At times it leaps for your throat when you least expect it (Fear Satan), and as the beast gnaws at your jagular, and life slowly seeps out of your body, you've never felt more alive. Drowning in the madness of strobe lights and deafening feedback, it's all you can do to wish that this moment will never end.
p.s.: yes, i've got first row seats and jumped up the stage to grab the setlist. It's signed by the band too! More (nicer) pictures here, taken by my friend isaac: http://flickr.com/photos/30644623@N00/
There are some renovation works taking place at home and the mess and the dust and the dirt are driving me mad. Things you use everyday (toiletries, cutlery etc) suddenly get sucked into the black abyss and refuse to be found. It's so dusty everywhere that I start sneezing and coughing and breaking out in rashes the minute I step into the house. I've never been so grateful to go to work in the mornings before. And the thing is: I should be at home cos I'm down with the cold but I'd rather be in the office where it is at least habitable.
It's times like these you realise the sheer number of things you take for granted. A nice hot shower in the morning? You can forget about that. I'd never ever forget the soul-crashing experience of having ice-fucking-cold water on your body first thing in the morning for as long as I live.
I watched the movie last night and it's excellent. It's probably one of the better movies to have come out this year thus far. It's definitely better than the lack-lustre Superman Returns, for which I sat through 3 arduous hours. This may seem simplistic but I'm thinking that movies, at least those of the "hollywood blockbuster" variety, fall into 2 large categories: the feel-good romantic comedy or the "explosive" action flicks. I have no problems with Hollywood blockbusters, though I am mostly unwilling to part with my $10 to watch something that I will forget the very next day. But the very loose categorisation of movies at least made for some kind of discussion of why people watch the movies they do. Do they somehow like watching their secret fantasies (both the romantic and the action crowds) being played out on screen? Or in the case of horror films, feel somewhat purged in a 2 hour cathartic process?
On one hand, the cynical may argue that going to the movies is no longer about the movie itself anymore. It's about the whole experience of going somewhere to do something. You only need to hang around any movie theatre lobby on weekend nights to ascertain this. On another hand, some go to the other extreme and delight in watching limited-run movies that are more esoteric in nature, or at least, something that the hol polloi will not go for.
I think I fall somewhere between the two. I've never been too much of a movie person, preferring to buy the dvd and watch it in the comfort of my room. I do like a brainless romantic comedy once in a while but I won't shy from watching an intellectually-intense film. I think in this aspect, Thank you for smoking fits the bill perfectly. On the surface, it's light-hearted and incredibly hilarious. There were so many laugh-out-loud moments in the show where I was positively squealing with delight. But I guess if you really think about it, there are so many layers in the movie that would unravel so much more than just a light-hearted satire. And I'm not talking about the dangers of smoking either. What really interest me are the issues of truth and its "spinability," people's perspectives and how to manipulate them, and the freedom of choice. It's ironic that throughout the entire show, the protaganist, Nick Naylor, is probably the only one who stuck with telling the truth at all times. One thing that struck me the most is how he said that in any argument, there is no need to prove the veracity of what one's saying, so long as you knock down your opponent's argument. You have to wonder if it's really as simple as that.
You know, I guess what I'm trying to say is that sometimes it's ok to give people more credit; they aren't always so stupid that you have to bash everything into them or give what they need to know on a platter. It's good to let people figure things out on their own.
Monday nights for me at least are usually spent in a delicate kind
of recovery. The brute shock of the week has just been unleashed
against you and when you finally make it home, all you'll want to do is
to curl up with a cup of hot tea in front of the telly or with a good
book in bed.
The last time I saw Coldplay was at a double-bill together with Travis. Now that was an excellent gig. It was intimate, cosy and just nice. Monday's gig was screaming "rockstar" a bit too loudly. Chris Martin and gang started about an hour later, which would not score points from me; I hate waiting. As it turned out, they played a good mix of both old and new tracks which means I wasnt too bored during the new tracks. The third track was Yellow and yellow beach balls were released into the crowd. It was fun.
Of course, I get my fair share of psychos during the gig. There was this person who dances in his/her (we couldnt tell) seat the entire time. I mean wtf. S/he looked like s/he was suffering an epilepsy attack! It was awful. Who the fuck dances in his seat? Either you get up and dance or sit down and not kick my knee every.single.time. Now I know why the word "spasm" and "spastic" have the same root word.
Wow. So it's Thursday already and I'm very tired. I caught a flu bug last night and crashed after taking medication at 9pm. The flu went away but I didnt sleep too well, hence my back is aching like crazy now. God! I sound like an old woman trapped in a (relatively) younger body.
It's good to be back (and bitching) again.
Wow. I finally got bumped up to a standard account at Vox. That's so cool! It looks genuinely cool and I hope I'm not going to lose interest in this, like I've done with so many others. Writing about everyday banalities is not something that can be easily sustained and I hate to admit this but I'm probably more inspired by the cool interface of whatever program I happen to be writing in than by what's happening in my life.
But writing, even about mundane stuff, is a good thing even though it may seem self-indulgent to be talking about yourself all the time. It helps you reflect on the comings and goings of your everyday life and perhaps gain a perspective, if one is needed. Writing things down, and have it stick to the laws of grammar and what not, helps you plan what you want to say. It is the most logical way of thinking things through, I think.
Writing is often said to be cathartic but there is a real danger of it being a obsession with trying to make meaning out of randomness. But I guess what's most important to me is that writing helps you look at the world differently somehow. A bus ride to work may not mean much but if you are going to write about it, somehow a narrative would have to be spun and characters worked out. It is good to have these little episodes written down even if you are merely trying to differentiate one day from the next because that would mean that you will be living each day in a special way, in your own way.

nice Spoon reference, and great camera, I actually have the same one, take tons of concert pics with it.... read more
on I turn my camera on