Cherishers of Oustanding Loveliness,
The December 24 to January 5 period of the year is downtime. I’m uneasy with the idea that there are only 52 weeks in the year and we give nearly two of them over to this vague time.
The best event of recent times happened long ago on December 20. This was when I attended Belle & Sebastian’s show at Barrowlands, Glasgow. I am ashamed to say that I used up a Ticketmaster voucher that I received last Christmas to buy the tickets. As one of the few people who like music in the country, this is a shocking state of affairs and the job that I occupy must be held accountable and dealt with in the right manner.
I may have penchants for certain bands from time to time but I think Belle & Sebastian are the band that will always be the band that introduced me to music. Only this week was I lishening to BBC 6Music and a lishener had sent an SMS saying that hearing Step Into My Office, Baby at the age of 11 introduced them to music and lured them away from other rubbish noise. I must say that I have a similar story although I was older. I worked my way back from the same song after hearing it on Mark & Lard’s Biggest Show.
That Jonathan Ross had his show on Radio Double One and every week, he’d play a song by David Bowie. I think if I was to give an artist repeated exposure in a similar fashion, it’d be Belle & Sebastian. It seems that almost every song has been my favourite at one point. At the moment, it’s probably The Loneliness of the Middle Distance Runner.
The songs all mean something to me. I was Lazy Line Painter Jane working in the village shop. I tried hard not to please anyone all the time. I had a Dog Without Wheels. I was and can still be Wrapped Up in Books. I am the ‘boy on the bike’ in Fox in the Snow. I’m always reminded that It Could Have Been a Brilliant Career. I thought of The Gate when I left my post in the way that I did. Most recently, they released Write About Love and the lyric, ‘At one o’clock, I take my lunch upon the roof’, recovered my memories of often eating my lunch at the top of a hill overlooking the town.
The show was sublime, it passed by so quickly but it each song seemed perfect despite Stuart’s having a cold. It was perfect pop music in a great venue. I enjoyed 6 Day Riot in support, they too understand pop.
Songs are words, repeated over for our benefit and enjoyment. Despite the festive period, I have been repeating words for my employment but I have now written them so many times that I take the stories they tell for granted. I don’t think those words really convey how hard a worker I am but since those stories are the weightiest I know, I’ll keep repeating them until I fit a space that feels right.
I don’t really enjoy the festive period. I find it a time of unnecessary pressure and I received an emither on Christmas Eve which troubled me. I dwelled upon its contents; I was startled by its honesty and its bleakness. I had stopped thinking about the situation therein by Boxing Day but I was reminded of it again when someone showed me a picture of their new pet.
I decided that I would try shopping but it turned out that buying stuff wasn’t going to make me happier. I was going to Edinburgh but I changed my mind and went to Glasgow. I enjoyed the train ride more than the cities. I returned to my desk for a few days, until I took my bicycle to a castle where I saw a nuthatch.
I think New Year celebrations can best be summed up in two incidents I witnessed. On New Year’s Eve, I heard louding knocking at the door and I answered. A chap and his female friend are there. He sported a baseball cap bearing a plaid pattern and a pierced eyebrow, she a football strip and hairstyle that could be described as Jozef Venglos-esque. For the sake of privacy, I will use an assumed name as I recount the exchange between myself and the boy.
‘Is Mary Bonthrone in?’
‘You have the wrong address.’
‘Who lives here like?’
‘No ‘Mary Bonthrone’ lives here.’
‘Who lives here like?’
‘You have the wrong address.’
‘Who lives here like?’
‘This is The Bellyaches’
‘Where does Mary Bonthrone live?’
‘I don’t know.’
Off they went to find out who lived in the next house. On New Year’s Day, around 1100 hrs, I witnessed a riot roving down past the bottom of my street. They made it over the terminal moraine.
The best event of recent times happened long ago on December 20. This was when I attended Belle & Sebastian’s show at Barrowlands, Glasgow. I am ashamed to say that I used up a Ticketmaster voucher that I received last Christmas to buy the tickets. As one of the few people who like music in the country, this is a shocking state of affairs and the job that I occupy must be held accountable and dealt with in the right manner.I may have penchants for certain bands from time to time but I think Belle & Sebastian are the band that will always be the band that introduced me to music. Only this week was I lishening to BBC 6Music and a lishener had sent an SMS saying that hearing Step Into My Office, Baby at the age of 11 introduced them to music and lured them away from other rubbish noise. I must say that I have a similar story although I was older. I worked my way back from the same song after hearing it on Mark & Lard’s Biggest Show.
That Jonathan Ross had his show on Radio Double One and every week, he’d play a song by David Bowie. I think if I was to give an artist repeated exposure in a similar fashion, it’d be Belle & Sebastian. It seems that almost every song has been my favourite at one point. At the moment, it’s probably The Loneliness of the Middle Distance Runner.
The songs all mean something to me. I was Lazy Line Painter Jane working in the village shop. I tried hard not to please anyone all the time. I had a Dog Without Wheels. I was and can still be Wrapped Up in Books. I am the ‘boy on the bike’ in Fox in the Snow. I’m always reminded that It Could Have Been a Brilliant Career. I thought of The Gate when I left my post in the way that I did. Most recently, they released Write About Love and the lyric, ‘At one o’clock, I take my lunch upon the roof’, recovered my memories of often eating my lunch at the top of a hill overlooking the town.
The show was sublime, it passed by so quickly but it each song seemed perfect despite Stuart’s having a cold. It was perfect pop music in a great venue. I enjoyed 6 Day Riot in support, they too understand pop.
Songs are words, repeated over for our benefit and enjoyment. Despite the festive period, I have been repeating words for my employment but I have now written them so many times that I take the stories they tell for granted. I don’t think those words really convey how hard a worker I am but since those stories are the weightiest I know, I’ll keep repeating them until I fit a space that feels right.
I don’t really enjoy the festive period. I find it a time of unnecessary pressure and I received an emither on Christmas Eve which troubled me. I dwelled upon its contents; I was startled by its honesty and its bleakness. I had stopped thinking about the situation therein by Boxing Day but I was reminded of it again when someone showed me a picture of their new pet.
I decided that I would try shopping but it turned out that buying stuff wasn’t going to make me happier. I was going to Edinburgh but I changed my mind and went to Glasgow. I enjoyed the train ride more than the cities. I returned to my desk for a few days, until I took my bicycle to a castle where I saw a nuthatch.
I think New Year celebrations can best be summed up in two incidents I witnessed. On New Year’s Eve, I heard louding knocking at the door and I answered. A chap and his female friend are there. He sported a baseball cap bearing a plaid pattern and a pierced eyebrow, she a football strip and hairstyle that could be described as Jozef Venglos-esque. For the sake of privacy, I will use an assumed name as I recount the exchange between myself and the boy.
‘Is Mary Bonthrone in?’
‘You have the wrong address.’
‘Who lives here like?’
‘No ‘Mary Bonthrone’ lives here.’
‘Who lives here like?’
‘You have the wrong address.’
‘Who lives here like?’
‘This is The Bellyaches’
‘Where does Mary Bonthrone live?’
‘I don’t know.’
Off they went to find out who lived in the next house. On New Year’s Day, around 1100 hrs, I witnessed a riot roving down past the bottom of my street. They made it over the terminal moraine.
posted by Leif at 4:30 PM
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