Tuesday, October 23, 2007


In the past week, at least two or three hours of each day has been devoted to recording. Although not without its benefits, eating, drinking, and pissing tend to take a backseat during that time.
Typically, my ears are exhausted from spending hours obsessing over a five-second section of a song and I'm so restless that sleep is ruff.

Nonetheless, there's a particular Andres Segovia record I can always put on. Pulled from the 50 cent bin at the shop, it was so terribly hacked it looked unplayable. Fortunately, my taste is so warped from endless listening of bad cassette dubs on blown car speakers during my teens that this was a plus. The sound is perfect: a mess of clicks, hiss and rattle with grit to throw the needle from groove to groove mid-note. Played loud enough, it sounds like Christian Marclay got a hold of a Derek Bailey album and gave it the business. Played quietly, ENB and I could fall asleep to it every night.

In terms of the actual sound of the recording, Stuart Scharf's score for George Dumpson's Place is somewhat similar. Opening with the same boxy acoustic classical guitar sound, Scharf's music eventually veers into jazzier territory without changing mood. It's a nice piece and a nice film I sometimes throw on when I'm overwhelmed.

Speaking of, ever read the A section of the New York Times? Cripes.

Last night was LH's going away party at the Elks Lodge. RSW and I were on the fence about attending but I didn't want to say no to visiting the Lodge before it's shut down or sold. RSW did end up passing and ACL and I went ahead. Unfortunately, it was pretty ritual. Same old shit. It was like a carbon copy of the last Lodge party but the jams were a bit more piss. And despite being the most packed I've seen it, excitement was a little low. Either I wasn't feeling it, or it was a pain in the ass because it stunk and you couldn't walk anywhere, or my tastes are changing.

A quote from Dan Clowes' story "The Party" would be appropriate but it's not handy at the mo'. In regard to attending parties, one's hopes are often that something amazing or wild would happen... but never does.

It could be argued that an individual gets one or two really good parties in his or her life. There's an age, a time, and factors that come together for a 100% experience. After that, it's 70% or below, 80% if you're lucky. I want more.

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