Another day, another soundscape. This one starts of badly, but towards the end features a sweet flutey bit that works well.
Last night on TV, I watched the fascinating programme by Stephen Fry talking about being bi-polar. While I don’t think I have the condition, I understand the manic phases, the insomnia and the crashing depression. However, when I am up I am incredibly creative and will spend my time pouring myself into the music or whatever takes my fancy at the time and have no time for sleep or anything else. When I am down, a big black cloud descends and I can be a right moping misery for days on end with no energy to do anything. I always thought it was the creative spark at large and not a mental condition. Luckily, having a dog and a strong routine and a sense of optimism has banished the low-points. The thing that got me was when Fry was talking about the self-loathing and he kept reeling off a list of how wretched he was. I thought that was perfectly normal for an Englishman, or was that just me? Again, there was a time when I’d have a mental flash of all the mistakes I’d ever made in my life playback in my head like a flicker book and then I’d privately berate myself for being completely useless. It was a real eye opener, but at least I know I am not bi-polar, as I believe a lot of what happened to me was down to the “Young Man Blues”. As I get older, I am feeling a lot more comfortable in this skin.
And why do I keep getting the urge to write “bear” at the end of bi-polar…?
Category: Diary
One of the things I miss about the heady days in summer I used to spend with The Missus going through the racks at various second-hand record shops is that you could take a punt on an unknown album for a quid or two. They were adventurous times and I came into contact with a lot of different albums – some good, many bad. But it was more about exploration than anything else.
Today, I was thinking back to those times and I remembered taking a chance with Sally Oldfield’s first album “Water Bearer”, purely because it was a £1 and because she was the older sister to Mike Oldfield. Being impressed by her soaring vocals on Steve Hackett’s “Shadow of the Heirophant” from the “Voyage of the Acolyte” album, I knew I was onto a winner…and so I was. It truly is a great record once you can past the references to Tolkien and elves. But heck, that’s what prog rock is all about, eh? But this is more folky and there are some great tunes, one of which “Mirrors” took me instantly back to my childhood. That’s another great thing about taking a chance on a mystery album is that you are never sure if you are going to find a track that has you reeling back exclaiming “I remember that! – I didn’t know it was by this artist”, etc. So anyway, I dug the album out this morning and gave it a couple of spins. It made me feel very old indeed.
Anyway, “Mirrors” was the breakout hit for Sally Oldfield and just in case you forgot what it sounded like or have never heard it, someone very kindly posted a TOTP performance on YouTube:
My original idea for the sleeve for my CD boxset “God Pays Debts Without Money” was to feature a rogue’s gallery of pictures of yours truly, mainly because it was cheaper and quicker to scan a few old pictures than to take the artwork seriously. After testing out the design on the general public, it was realised that my ugly old phizzog was just too disturbing and so instead I needed a new piece of art to lead the eye.
Now the great thing about the Internet is that it brings you into contact with many different people and I have been lucky to have linked to a very talented chap called Taren McCallen-Moore who produces some very visually interesting pieces. For me, he is a cross between Robert Crumb and H.R. Giger and I love the way he uses a biro to create visually arresting pieces. I am lucky that he agreed to produce a piece of art to adorn the cover of my CD and I have even paid him a small fee for his trouble. This is the first time ever that I have actually budgeted for one of my CD sleeves, as usually I do all the work myself. But when I saw what Taren produced just from giving him the title, it was pretty easy to part me with my cash. The new art is below and captures the title perfectly:
How’s this for art, eh?
For more great pictures and art created by Mr McCallan-Moore, head over to his new website at www.taren.co.uk
Either this is a complete work of genius or the musical rantings of a madman. You decide:
Flat-packed bedroom furniture arrived early and woke me from a deep slumber. Somehow I’ve got to get this stuff upstairs on my own as the delivery men point-blank refused to take the wardrobe and drawer kits upstairs and left them in our tiny hallway. Should be fun putting those together…not…
Anyhoo, I was pottering around early, realising what a bitter and twisted old man I have become when I decided to relax a bit and do some “on-the-fly” recording. These improvisations aren’t as hot as normal as I can barely breathe first thing in the morning, let alone play guitar. But it was a good pressure release to have some playing time. I hope you enjoy these (even if they are a bit rough):
14-09-06 Improvisation
14-09-06 “B” Improvisation
In the post: Bill Bruford – Rock Goes to College DVD. A classic performance from the late 1970s. A review will follow.
For the first time in a fortnight, I had a lovely undisturbed sleep last night. Knowing that the new fitted carpet would keep away any nasty fumes from the neighbours, my subconsciousness allowed me to comfortably slumber in the coils of sleep. I had a dream and I don’t remember much of it, but I was fourteen or fifteen again and I was out with my grandparents at the social club they used to attend. I kept fiddling with my watch and got into an argument with my grandfather about it. He forbid from ever wearing a watch again. It was a strange uncomfortable and aggressive dream and my grandfather was never like that. I only saw him lose his temper twice when he was alive.
When I awoke my right shoulder and centre of my back was totally rigid, obviously from pushing the double matress up the stairs yesterday afternoon. I’m not as strong as I used to be. Ouch! I was planning on doing more decorating today but after painting the ceiling tiles, I had to retire because my shoulder was just too painful. I have a high pain threshold but the twinges were off-putting and I was scared of falling from the ladder. Total concentration is key to ladder work and I didn’t want to fall off and get my head stuck down the toilet bowl or anything.
In the post: the new album from Steve Hackett “Wild Orchids”. Listened to it a couple of times. While some of the songs are fine, it hasn’t gripped me like the previous album. I might write a proper review if I can be bothered.
Daniel Double-Barrelled Name, lottery millionaire, political conspiracy theorist and thespian bar-none commented:
I’ve been reading your personal blog entries concerning your father and have been absolutely gripped by them and not felt liek commenting because what can I add?
But I’d just thought I’d leave you a note.
Peace.
Yes, it has been strangely cathartic to put it all on the page. I don’t know about it all. They leave me blinking well baffled. You give someone your number and say: call me. It’s as simple a process as that, so when someone is reluctant to lift the phone and dial the number, you begin to question things. With regards to my father, his reluctance to contact me could be a multitude of things. It could be that he doesn’t actually like me, feels awkward, he could be away on business or having a technical problem, or maybe he’s lost all his dialling fingers in a freak gardening accident? Who knows? Not me. If you ever want to meet for a pint sometime, drop me a line, HG, and I’ll tell you more stories. 😉
In his diary, Robert Fripp wrote:
Benevolence is constantly available.
But, we are not constantly available to Benevolence.
To be available to Benevolence, we have to do a little to move towards it.
But, rather than do the little we have to do, we do lot that we don’t have to do.
Rather than do the little that is possible for us, we seek Big Things beyond our reach.
This is the tragedy of the human condition.
This seems quite apt with what’s happening at the moment.
On seperate matters, today the new carpet was laid in the bedroom and it looks very snazzy. I am very impressed with the job. The main part of my morning was moving all the stuff out of the bedroom so that the carpet fitter had full access to the room. Moving the mattress down the stairs illicited a few swear words – after the job was done, moving the mattress back upstairs eliciting a fast-flowing cascade of verbal abuse. Luckily, I had warned my mother in advance who offered her help in moving the heavy item up the stairs. Of course, I didn’t ask her to lift it – her job was to loosen the mattress whenever it got stuck on a stair, with me at the bottom, huffing and puffing, weight fully behind it, like a modern-day and out-of-condition Samson moving the pillars (or as this is bed-related, maybe it should be pillows?).
Anyway, job done and the Missus will be mightily impressed. I feel shagged out, but did spend yesterday stripping the wallpaper in the toilet and painting all the woodwork, pipework and cistern. Everything is lookng zingey already and it will better when I wallpaper it tomorrow. I even have some spare carpet from the bedroom to use in the bog – schweet!