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Monday, 10 July 2006
Flip to centre.
So what of these empty rooms, their bare walls and unhinged doors dominating all thoughts of cityscape? As all slowly comes together, like a relapsing universe, ideas upon ideas, we begin to wonder. One begins to draw structures, another teaches about psychogeography, another roots up the flaneur and leaves it to dry in the sun. Things do not fall apart.
In the meantime, I boldly stack records, case upon case, sleeve upon sleeve and rotate my listening hours. So much new material, so much genuine excitement in the music of today. Yesterday, the heat and murmur of internalised South-American anthropological musician made my limbs go. My head has not fully returned. I feel like a reversed photograph, the difference going unnoticed unless you saw me the first time.
12:47 Posted in Confessional | Permalink | Comments (0) | Email this