The trouble is that the nieghbour dropped off an extra-large double-double at 1:30am and, being oblivious to how my body has changed since I was eighteen, I figured I was cool to down the whole thing and still nod off immediately. Before that was the other nieghbour and his girlfriend coming over to watch a werewolf movie (which prompted the question: "Hey, when's the last time we watched a movie that wasn't a horror?"). Before that was waking up at two in the afternoon because I'd gone to bed at five in the morning.
So I'm still awake at 3:30am, fully aware of the fact that I will be awakened in something like six hours by a three-year-old ruckus in the next room, fresh from two nights at her dad's house and forgetful of all the rules of this one.
Yay!
And what am I doing at 3:30am? Reading Cities of the Red Night and discussing with Steph whether or not I believe losing Amy Winehouse to her addictions would qualify as a tragedy. And if you're having trouble guessing which side I'm taking, maybe this will help: I'm citing great musicians, artists and writers who died young and asking whether or not Amy Winehouse can properly be compared to them.
And it's as I'm listing names of more and less obscure talents that I surprise myself by mentioning Kurt Cobain.
I look at the book in my hand and depart from the topic completely (Hey,
it's 3:30am, I've got the sleep schedule of an over-caffeinated cat and, like, zero attention span) and start talking about The "Priest" They Called Him--a nine minute and forty-something-second ep featuring W.S. Burroughs reading a short from his collection Exterminator! while Kurt Cobain plays some dissonant guitar in the background.
I heard it on CD way back when Kurt Cobain was still mentioned by everyone everyday. By that point I was more interested in Burroughs than in Cobain, but I had to admit that I was really into what they were doing.
Apparently the track was also released on a one-sided 10" picture disc limited to 50,000 copies. That sounds like a lot to a hardcore kid, but when you consider the followings that these two guys had, well, it doesn't seem like near enough.
Of course the recording is out of print. It's still available online at Amazon and, no doubt, eBay; and yet I find myself hoping instead to one day find it while rifling through bins in some dusty old record store in some major metropolitan centre. Maybe because that way there's a chance that I won't have to pay upward of $60 for the 10", or maybe because that's just how I've always done it.
In other news: I seem to have a couple of leads on amps, I'm just about ready to sit down and start writing something serious, I'm going to be listening to both Blue Train and Yanqui UXO tonight if it kills me and I've decided to forgo buying a motorcycle until after London (unless a stupendously good deal comes up in the meantime).
By the way, the link to my nieghbour's book does not constitute an endorsement--I have not read the novel. In fact, I feel compelled to warn you that if all I've read about Publish America is true, they'll publish anything. Nonetheless, there it is. Take it for what it's worth.
So I'm still awake at 3:30am, fully aware of the fact that I will be awakened in something like six hours by a three-year-old ruckus in the next room, fresh from two nights at her dad's house and forgetful of all the rules of this one.
Yay!
And what am I doing at 3:30am? Reading Cities of the Red Night and discussing with Steph whether or not I believe losing Amy Winehouse to her addictions would qualify as a tragedy. And if you're having trouble guessing which side I'm taking, maybe this will help: I'm citing great musicians, artists and writers who died young and asking whether or not Amy Winehouse can properly be compared to them.
And it's as I'm listing names of more and less obscure talents that I surprise myself by mentioning Kurt Cobain.
I look at the book in my hand and depart from the topic completely (Hey,
it's 3:30am, I've got the sleep schedule of an over-caffeinated cat and, like, zero attention span) and start talking about The "Priest" They Called Him--a nine minute and forty-something-second ep featuring W.S. Burroughs reading a short from his collection Exterminator! while Kurt Cobain plays some dissonant guitar in the background.I heard it on CD way back when Kurt Cobain was still mentioned by everyone everyday. By that point I was more interested in Burroughs than in Cobain, but I had to admit that I was really into what they were doing.
Apparently the track was also released on a one-sided 10" picture disc limited to 50,000 copies. That sounds like a lot to a hardcore kid, but when you consider the followings that these two guys had, well, it doesn't seem like near enough.
Of course the recording is out of print. It's still available online at Amazon and, no doubt, eBay; and yet I find myself hoping instead to one day find it while rifling through bins in some dusty old record store in some major metropolitan centre. Maybe because that way there's a chance that I won't have to pay upward of $60 for the 10", or maybe because that's just how I've always done it.
In other news: I seem to have a couple of leads on amps, I'm just about ready to sit down and start writing something serious, I'm going to be listening to both Blue Train and Yanqui UXO tonight if it kills me and I've decided to forgo buying a motorcycle until after London (unless a stupendously good deal comes up in the meantime).
By the way, the link to my nieghbour's book does not constitute an endorsement--I have not read the novel. In fact, I feel compelled to warn you that if all I've read about Publish America is true, they'll publish anything. Nonetheless, there it is. Take it for what it's worth.
3 comments:
link to your neighbor's book? which neighbor and which book?
Cindy Sprigg is her name, Galaxy Zoo is her book. The first time the word "nieghbour" is mentioned, it is a link to the Publish America page for the novel. Again: Publish America publishes EVERYTHING they get sent whether it's crap or just plain shit, so there's a better than even chance that it sucks.
oh... well then...
oh yeah! i forgot to tell joe to find that amp... i will tonight!
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