Saturday, March 29, 2008

Nothing in particular

If you love me, leave me your T-shirts.

Thursday, March 13, 2008

The most underrated band from Manchester

Think Manchester 1980s, you get the baggy scene, the seemingly difficult delivery of UK indie rock amid all the nonsense pop and MTV cashcows.

No, i'm not talking about Morrissey et al or The Stone Roses. A band fell between the cracks. Or perhaps, like their namesake, The Chameleons unfortunately faded into the background before UK embraced indie bands late 80s to 90s.

Ditch Interpol because The Chameleons were the ones who mastered that dark post-punk romantics sound, 25 years ago.

omg, it's a quarter of a century.

They were the dark princes of Manchester rock in 1983. I guess the scene swallowed and extinguished the band like their lyrics from the band's 1983 debut, Script at the bridge suggests:
" Where are we?
First and last
Bound together in our past
Much too cruel
Much too fast'

With titles like A person isn't safe anywhere these days and As high you can go, the atmospheric riffs and lead Mark Burgess vocals, give the interpol a run for moodiness and incomprehensible lyrics.

This album is older than me and it's a keeper y'all.

P.S: Thanks a lot Mr Duffy for referring me to this band. you were right in your dismissive rwords in red ink for the magazine assignment: "They (Interpol) are a rip-off of The Chameleons. Check Script at the bridge"/

Thursday, March 6, 2008

Feast

Last night i had sort of a nightmare. I dreamt that i was eating a part of a human being. It was weird, maybe i have cannibalistic tendancies.

And mind you, the person who i took a large bite of, haha, was still alive and talking to me, after the meal.

One day, i guess with food shortages, cannibalism doesn't seem that faraway. Just like what Neil Gaiman's short story, Babycakes.

Yes, food from babies.

Saturday, March 1, 2008

All apologies: Six Feet Under



By far, the most beautiful scene in Six Feet Under.

Claire remembers the day Kurt Cobain died, as a reading takes place at her brother's burial.

Nate, her brother, then a high-schooler weeps by the stereo playing Nirvana's "All Apologies", smoking a joint.

"Nate," says Claire.

"Hey," Nate replied.

"Kurt Cobain died today. He killed himself," said Nate as he took a long drag off the joint.

"He was just too pure for this world," he choked.

The 13 year-old claire deadpanned: "His music will live on,"

Nate smiled. "Yeah, it will,"

He sighed, holding out the joint to her: "You wanna try some?"

"Yeah." Claire said as the door shuts.