Guns, bitches, hoes and crack

04/09/2013 § Leave a comment

I was driving along yesterday and the radio played a tune by Roots Manuva. It’s not a new tune but this was the first time I had actually listened to the words and they made me lol. I did, I lolled.
I have put the lyrics at the end of this post for anyone who absolutely must know. Feel free to read.  And feel free to stop reading before you reach the end.RootsManuva
I wonder how Mr Manuva’s fans can be fans. Surely, a teenage kid knows they can do better. Even without Roots’ online rhyming dictionary of choice they could do better.
In years to come, the grandchildren of Roots Manuva fans will ask why this generation didn’t have any poets. The old ones will hang their heads, gaze at their slippered feet and say: “We did. We just didn’t listen to them.”

 

The Falling 

Guns, bitches, hoes, crack
Death and disease, and a baseball bat
STDs that have no name
Down at the clinic with a face fulla shame

Russian Roulette with a naked flame
Dangerously slow but in the fast lane
A big nose bleed and a bag of cocaine
Just got the news about the tumour in my brain

Just don’t care so we sniff it all the same
Caught my best friend sleepin’ with my girlfriend, Jane
Now I’m thinkin’ of a way to get them slain
Assassins for hire, they shall get paid

Two-G, Three-G, whatever it costs
None of those fools shoulda got me crossed
I’m just about ready for some treacherous thing
Hand grenade on the plane looks another Dunblane

Mass murderin’, brains on the floor
You’re dead ’cause I said you shouldn’t live no more
You done and made me lose my cool
Where’s my tool? Who’s the bigger fool?

Road rage, pavement rage, all kind of rage
You’ll be lucky if you get to see some old age
Every other day’s a good day to die
Best be careful, if you’s love your life

You don’t know nothin’, you don’t see nothin’
You don’t be nothin’, you don’t do nothin’
But we all got to be something and somebody
But everybody here can’t be that rich

You know the saying’: ‘life’s a bitch’
I got my finger on the trigger with a nervous twitch
Keep your mouth shut, help me dig this ditch
Don’t you be a stupid bitch

I took a blunt knife and cut a piece of my heart
That’s my sacrifice, my wayward device
It sound mad though, my self-mutilation like
Doctor Foster and his very first patient

The gods ain’t happy ’cause man is praisin’ himself
Plannin’ to get to heaven with that earthly wealth
Blood money, grudge money, nobody budge money
Mass futility, souls on the guillotine

Meantime I unravel, callin’ Jimmy Saville
Come fix my epitomy I’m bitterly the bitterness

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Dragging my heart around

08/03/2013 § Leave a comment

I was poking around on bandcamp today and was struck by this album art. It’s by Annie Hardy aka Giant Drag. Click on it for a larger pic.
I can’t think of any way to improve it. Does that mean it’s perfect?
GiantDragBeautiful photography. Don’t you love the backlighting? And the pose.
Then there’s the composition. That lovely expanse of starry sky.
The title is great in itself. But I love the way it sits at the top not trying to intrude with the understated G and D.
But what about the actual music? Here’s a sample:

Soundtrack

19/01/2013 § Leave a comment

My son gave me some quality headphones for Christmas. Coupled with my daughter’s hand-me-down (or up?) ipod, they have turned me into one of those zoned-out-on-public-transport people.
But I was slow to convert. I’ve always agreed with the people who made these signscanyouhearthebirdssinging
and don’t want to become this guynewyorker
although he is a very snazzy dresser.

But the sound.
It’s like a warm blanket on a cold night or a cool breeze on a hot night or a drug fuelled rave party in my head.

Anyway, here’s a brief look at what my morning commute is like.

Sorry for the quality (phone).

Well, it’s about time

05/05/2012 § Leave a comment

One day this week, before dawn, my wife was called in to work. I stared at the ceiling for a bit after she’d left and finally just got up and went to work early. There was no real need to — my work is cyclical and start-of-month is pretty cruisy — but I did anyway.
And while I sat on some public transport I thought: “What am I doing?” “What’s the rush?” “I should have hung out the washing.”
I have always seen time as a valuable thing. Years ago (with a bunch of kids to feed) I opted for time over career. I thought time with the family was a better deal than a larger pay packet.
So my actions that day surprised me. I smelled the sulphurous odour of a strong work ethic. How un-Australian.

Here’s a lyric from the song Time
And you run and you run to catch up with the sun, but it’s sinking
Racing around to come up behind you again
The sun is the same in a relative way, but you’re older
Shorter of breath and one day closer to death
A happy sentiment from those feel-good popsters, Pink Floyd

Yep. It’s the “Is your fridge running?” joke.

Ignoring the implied pointlessness of running here, I went for a jog at lunch time.
It cleared the cobwebs and made me feel good again. It helped me sort out my priorities and put the work bunny back in the box.
I promise, my countrymen, not to do it again.

Run the World (Girls)

19/04/2012 § 4 Comments

So I’m listening to Azealia Banks and I think “Did she just say what I think she said?” and she did. It shouldn’t be surprising – she’s a rapper and they are not famous for curbing their behaviour for the sake of being sensitive to others. For example, when Kanye’s grandmother tried to suggest he might be using the ‘a’ word a bit too much in his latest song, he I’m-a-let-you-finished her and she did’t get to finish.
But back to Azealia. Here she is and she is just so cute.

How does someone so cute get to have such a potty mouth? Somehow she manages to balance the two.
It’s a skill that girls, in particular, seem to need. We live in strange times. We can be who we want to be and do what we want to do. But ours is a very conservative society. It’s not the 1970s anymore – there are some things that society says you just can’t be and things you just can’t do.
I know lots of girls who admire outrageousness but want a fairly normal lifestyle. Does this clash? No – they manage.
But TV and film seem to have a problem with it and have decided to create this weird new stereotype. The promiscuous non-slut. People like Robin from How I Met Your Mother and Penny from The Big Bang Theory. Characters for loving and not judging. Are they real? I recently saw a trailer in which Kate Hudson’s character says: “You look familiar. Have we had sex?” Who says that?

Silver lining: People in general have strict standards but one of those standards is that we must not judge others. So you go girls.

I, for one, welcome our new robot overlords.

07/03/2012 § 1 Comment

James Bond and robots. Sounds awesome, right?
Penn, (the University of Pennsylvania) robotics students have programmed robotic quadrotors (they fly) to play the Bond theme. I don’t need to say anything more.

Barking up a wrong tree

04/03/2012 § 9 Comments

Had coffee today with my wife and my daughter and her boyfriend. I told them about joining the band I’m playing in and it finished with my daughter feeling very sorry for me. She said it was so full of cringe that I was a cross between David Brent and Mr Bean. I realised there’s a story here.

I was asked by a friend to join his band because they had a gig at a local street festival and needed a drummer. So I went along and met Chattelz – a nice bunch of blokes. We rehearsed and started working out a set list. Then they landed another gig at a community fete which was actually before the original gig (help, I’m using the word ‘gig’ too much). Meanwhile they were saying that they should make some sort of effort at promotion. I told them that I was their man because they needed my awesome graphic design skills (often my posts contain irony but there is none in this sentence). So I made business cards and flyers (above) and asked for access to the myspace page so I could edit it (still a work in progress btw). On the back of the flyer were some photos I had taken at rehearsal – Col, Pete, Mark, Greg and me with mini bios under the heading ‘Meet Chattelz’.
Then we played at the fete. I turned up and the others were wearing fedoras. “You didn’t tell me about the detective hats.” I said. At the next rehearsal I turned up with a fedora. “Hey guys, I’ve got a detective hat.” Eventually I got around to the myspace page. That’s where I made my terrible discovery.
The band bio had all the other members plus a ‘guest musicians’ section with the name of someone who played sax, someone who played keyboards, someone who sang backing vocals and (shock, horror) the previous drummer.
The penny dropped.
I hadn’t been asked to join the band. I had been asked to join them for a particular performance. The whole join-the-band and drummer-in-a-band thing was presumption on my part. Oops. To be honest, I felt a little bit queasy in the tummy here. So I spoke to my friend and apologised for getting it wrong. He said the guys were ok with it and not to worry. Aw, thanks guys. But still – whoo boy.

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