Some of my excellent friends were recounting stories from Trash Sydney the other day and one of them recounted a particularly horrifying tale of setting alight a mattress in Benito Di Fonzo's house. This is not fabulous. I do not like that my friends set alight a mattress in Benito Di Fonzo's house. I hope nobody was hurt.
I have been very busy with Operational Planning Day at my place of employment, fortunately they paid for my lunch in a nice pub in Surry Hills, it has a clock on the wall showing the time in Reykjavic which is very handy.
Listening to my new Radiohead album on the way home I began thinking about my Radiohead scale of people. It is not a linear scale but it does have ends. At one end are people who did not know that Radiohead had a new album, these sorts of people might say aloud in a record shop in Newtown "I only listen to mainstream and R&B". This may cause some panic and distress in Dale who might reply "Shhhh you're in Newtown now".
At the other end of the Radiohead scale are people who might in a car in Surry Hills whilst taking Dale back to Newtown after playing guitar excellently at The Hopetoun "I am not fussed with Radiohead. I think how they are releasing this album is interesting but I don't think that they acknowledge their influences enough. I think they take credit for originality that is not necessarily theirs to take".
I am in the middle of the Radiohead scale. I like Radiohead but I do not own all of their albums. I pre-ordered my copy of In Rainbows and was curious as to how it would sound. I was very interested in how they circumnavigated traditional distribution methods and contractual obligations, slightly alarmed at the mass potential for breach of copyright and generally very pleased to be a part of it, in a small way.
At either end of the Radiohead scale are people I could never be. One because I am incapable of happily diving into the pool of mainstream then swimming lap after lap finger to toe with the ones in front and behind. The other because I have not the skill, the knowledge nor the sheer fucking style to dig all the way to the bottom of the well and see what the rocks are made of.
I will be content to walk around with my tiny headphones, take my measured doses of musical understanding, my wide open capacity to feel, press play and just walk where I'm going.
I have been very busy with Operational Planning Day at my place of employment, fortunately they paid for my lunch in a nice pub in Surry Hills, it has a clock on the wall showing the time in Reykjavic which is very handy.
Listening to my new Radiohead album on the way home I began thinking about my Radiohead scale of people. It is not a linear scale but it does have ends. At one end are people who did not know that Radiohead had a new album, these sorts of people might say aloud in a record shop in Newtown "I only listen to mainstream and R&B". This may cause some panic and distress in Dale who might reply "Shhhh you're in Newtown now".
At the other end of the Radiohead scale are people who might in a car in Surry Hills whilst taking Dale back to Newtown after playing guitar excellently at The Hopetoun "I am not fussed with Radiohead. I think how they are releasing this album is interesting but I don't think that they acknowledge their influences enough. I think they take credit for originality that is not necessarily theirs to take".
I am in the middle of the Radiohead scale. I like Radiohead but I do not own all of their albums. I pre-ordered my copy of In Rainbows and was curious as to how it would sound. I was very interested in how they circumnavigated traditional distribution methods and contractual obligations, slightly alarmed at the mass potential for breach of copyright and generally very pleased to be a part of it, in a small way.
At either end of the Radiohead scale are people I could never be. One because I am incapable of happily diving into the pool of mainstream then swimming lap after lap finger to toe with the ones in front and behind. The other because I have not the skill, the knowledge nor the sheer fucking style to dig all the way to the bottom of the well and see what the rocks are made of.
I will be content to walk around with my tiny headphones, take my measured doses of musical understanding, my wide open capacity to feel, press play and just walk where I'm going.
Comments
I hope they did.
And the house burning down was unrelated to mattresses.
Cassowaries are far eviler, if that is a word. To me they look like a turkey cross emu cross dinosaur. Which makes for a very cross looking bird that will kick the shit out of you. Eat one of thm instead. In a casserole.