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the fluorescent lighting in my room keeps humming, and loudly. i have to keep hitting it with a walking stick to make it stop. that's what comes from living in a room that used to be an office. no bloody central heating either. poor little me.
it is my intention to issue a series of 6 very limited edition unsong cdrs, available exclusively from the macrophonies organisation web site (or possibly at gigs), and under the subsidiary cdr label 'micro'. each disc will contain one ultra-extended remix of a single track from the debut unsong album 'the frailty of angels, the treason of people'; some remixes will be subtle, others will sound utterly different from the source track. £5 each / £25 for all 6 (+ p&p). those interested should specify their desired track.
of course the problem with the above idea is that i could do all the work, printing, burning etc. and it might be that no fucker is interested direct any interest to: email@example.com or perhaps i should wait until the album's actually out and at least some of you fuckers have it?
loathed though i am to (mis?)quote pink floyd: "is there anybody out there?"
just got my hands on a copy of macrophonies organisation's first vinyl release. a split 10" from andrew liles and ruse, 'a love song (versions 1 - 11)' / 'radar' is a lovely item. on baby-pink vinyl, liles' side reflects, in my opinion, the closest he's gotten to his goal of 'aural pornography' to date; ruse's side is a catalogue of electronic disturbance par excellence. i advise all of you to buy it immediately (after you've bought my cd of course).
still no news from ny. not looking good for an american live debut. shame. no doubt there'll be a london live macrophonies organisation event soon after my return.
"according to a recent job survey, having a monitor nobody can see is the second most important thing after salary."
kidney update: the doctor told me today that i'm a 'stone grower'. now i've been called many things in my time
i've had what i now believe to be my first kidney stone related dream: i was house sitting at a friend's parental home in norfolk. desperate to urinate, i made my way to their bathroom only to discover that instead of a toilet they had a large plastic rain barrel. the lid of the barrel was clear plastic and i could see that it was full of murky water. when i lifted the lid the water drained quickly away, revealing huge chunks of beef stacked inside. as i began to piss, wasps began to crawl over the soaked meat, buzzing angrily.
'panchira', japanese: ("this peek-a-boo crime --- and it is a criminal act, fellows! --- is so prevalent in japan, there's a special name for it: "panchira." "pan" is short for panty, and "chira," is the japanese word for getting a glance of something --- such as in stealing a glimpse of underwear from a girl going up the stairs.")
the freshly pressed cds have arrived. woohoo! 'the frailty of angels, the treason of people', the debut album of unsong material, is now officially available for purchase. discount on orders of 100 or more.
if i didn't think i'd look like a total twat with a beard, i'd never shave again. stupid, irritating and dull way to spend your time.
went to the 33rd international antique scientific and medical instrument fair this sunday. well, it's a hobby. all the stall holders kept asking me if i was a doctor. saw w a y more things that i wanted than i could actually afford. what i reeeeally wanted was a perforator, but they retailed at about £200 ("what's a perforator?" i hear you ask. trust me, the squeamish among you don't want to know). i finally settled on a scarificator (circa 1850) and a beautiful skin grafting razor from the 1920s. the man who sold them to me looked alarmingly like harold shipman.
recommended: (audio) the sound of the wind in the radisson sas portman hotel lift shafts / (comestible) the classic jacket potatoes with beans and sausages / (visual) lovely new gherkin-shaped building going up near liverpool st. station / (sensorial) my first beer since the kidney stones
reviled: (audio) the postman banging on my front door holding a registered letter that isn't even addressed to me / (comestible) salad cream / (visual) stratospheric price tags on medical instruments i deserve to own / (sensorial) the encroaching winter cold
an old woman evangelising through a megaphone at the angel islington this week told me that i should beg forgiveness for my sins. i said thank you but forgiveness was not something that i felt particularly in need of. she then informed me that i was "spiritually dead" and that i was on course to suffer "the second death" in, or around the vicinity of "the lake of fire". it raised a smile on a grey day i can tell you. pardon me for thinking we were living in the twenty first century. i have to say i'm having a job seeing this 'human progress' thing everyone seems to be so convinced about. i mean, jesus quite literally.
spent yesterday lunchtime in postman's park, near st.paul's. a wall in the park is decorated with ceramic tiles commemorating people who lost their lives while trying to save another's. "in his last heroic act he was scorched to death" is there anyone you'd die for? i mean really? deep down? honestly? press your hand to the screen and say their name. say it out loud. i can tell if you're lying.
that's it, just heard the ny gig is off for definite. late november should see the whole macrophonies menagerie come out to play live though, keep em peeled.
now it's off to new york anyway