Beafday 28

30. August 2008

I think last year was pretty rough in many ways. I had to work rather hard for the things that I wanted and yesterday it all came together in a wonderful festival of age, beaf and dance moves that could have belonged in a film called something like "step it up" or "shake it till it hurts". Even after all this time as a human, I've never gone to a beach grill party which is now surely on my todo more often list. Of course there were a lot of people that I longed to have there with me on the beach but so is the curse of living in a world that is vast and filled with fun peopole to know and share. I'm certain this year will be fantastic and interesting as the last one, in fact it'll defnitely see the release of the first game I've ever worked on, it's hard to describe how much I am looking forward to that day for a myriad of reasons. Right, time to dance along the lanes, buy donuts and just partake in the neverending music video that is the streets of Brighton. Thanks to all of those that came down to the beach and those that wanted to.

Drunken Master ... of cutting

25. August 2008

Ahhh, the warmth of a laptops underbelly, so comforting. Last time I got my hair cut I very nearly wept as I handed my already stretched card over to the lady at the front desk to pay. I vowed that I wouldn't fall for that glitzy hair-trap ever again and so began the search for some small independant place that wouldn't ask me to donate blood as they applied some luxurious minty conditioner. Mission success was reached last saturday as I descended into this basement which is so hard to find that the proprietor's first question was "who referred you". When I showed up for my appointment the cutter was preoccupied with three things, soundblasting the walls of the basement with Black Sabbath's Warpig, cutting some other kids hair and taking the occasional swig of the kronenburg beer that was propped next to the mirror, to be fair the client also had his own pint that he could enjoy. This all slightly confused me, coming from the world of "would you like a glass of water or coffee" served by 13 year olds in miniskirts. I was offered to go get a pint of my own from the pub opposite the hidden basement but I politely declined the generous offer. The cutter kind of looked at me with his head slightly askew and then smiled and asked me if I'd rather light up a joint ( I assume he thought I had one on me ). This I wasn't prepared for but I just broke out my extra large smile and refused again hoping he wouldn't put me in the box with all the other squares and push me out on the street. Eventually he finished the kid before me and started work on my head. Whilst the conditioner was setting in he'd swap out the vinyl records that kept everyones ears perpetually amused, going from sabbath to some "progressive pop" then the blackest of funk all the way to some fifties jazz. Possibly the most interesting haircut I've ever gotten, and after a couple of beers getting your hair cut is more fun. Lesson learnt, experience stored, glee for everyone. Did I mention that the cutter used to run a record store with David Holmes.

The human in your face

23. August 2008

So every nook, cranny and alcove has been explored, time to move uptown, up to LondonTown. Went there yesterday in search of cultural inspiration and human perspiration, which london had plenty of. Made funny faces ( mostly sad funny, and surprised funny ) at the amazing British portrait awards exhibition, seriously it's free and if you live near or in london, passing through or maybe kidnapped and held hostage there, you have to check this exhibition out. This one by José Luis Corella García just grounded me and made my jaw drop and eyes pop. Of course it doesn't compare to see it on a computer screen, but still you get the idea. Thought I'd take a small break from band pictures. One thing I noticed at the national portrait gallery was that the texts that accompanied the artwork sometimes just really deflated the whole visual excellence. Saying something like "the artist was investigating the effects of strong sunlight which made it hard for the model to keep its eyes open for long" just sounds horrible and it'd be better not to say anything at all. I wonder a bit if my single independant way of life is becoming too addictive. But then there's too much stuff to do, to follow that thought through to any sort of conclusion.

The flight

19. August 2008

Took an impromptu day off from work and was awakened by this loudspeaker equipped van that was screaming something about zippos sircus and how much fun it would be to traipse about with the hippos or something of that sort. I also had a super weird dream. The lead singer from Wolf Parade was dying from a failing heart, and his band and some other band which I forget who were would race each other on bi-planes to get to gigs. Then at the gig I could see him stumbling and falling but everyone simply thought it was part of the act and quickly lost interest and left before it was over, and then I think he just died. These times just seem so sad. Scott Walker who isn't the happiest pin in the basket killed my xbox, and Crystal Castles cancelled their performance here in Brighton. To top it off I started reading Flowers for Algernon (which isn't a love story). I can not believe that I left it for so long to check it out, it is absolutely heart wrenchingly sweet. I was planning on maybe making a trip up to London this friday, check out the museums, the parks but not the shops no surree. cultural friday this shall be. Hopefully I'll meet interesting people there as well. Oh and that reminds me I'm planning on returning to ice in October around the airwaves and if anyone is interested in going with me to that crazy queue hell, well contact me.

London Fields

10. August 2008

So I was asked yesterday if living alone didn't frighten me, and I was all like hell no, I love my tiny cube of studio living. Then I watched Reign over me, and massive doubts arose. Yesterday I was in Victoria Park, London Fields for Field Day. Learned that a smile can often lead to some very interesting storytelling, witnessed a man look at girl stuck in a trainstation, then ask her if she needed a hug, with her negative reply he subsequently asked if a kiss would be better and with little luck in that attempt he somehow came to the conclusion that joke-punching her would be a better approach. Very caveman. You can probably read from the picture which band this is, again this would be from atp. There was this human at atp that was female and during les savy favs performance which included a lot of jumping and colliding with other bodies she got kind of thrown into my vicinity. well I never spoke to her but for some reason her male friend thought that I was fly and offered me some powdery stuff which I politely declined. Then again yesterday, at the les savy fav performance, there she was, no words as usual but fingerpointing and acknowledgement. Anyways this somehow connects with gay pride and me trying to mime my longing to photograph a troupe of mimes, all I'm saying is that non-verbal communication is fun, I wish there was a day for it, for the whole world to just shut up.

Rainy day for pride of gay

2. August 2008

This is going to be supershort due to lack of battery powahh! Things have been moderately crazy. Work is amazing as always, this town is getting more and more insane, the other day when I was walking home an anonymous man offered to apply suction to an organ not commonly exposed in exchange for a lift to some unknown location. We've gone to see some absolutely terrific bands, most notably Beach House, Fleet Foxes ( see picture below ) and Ratatat. The future is going to be filled with further adventure in synthetics, beginning with me putting a better effort with this internet communicayh. Till next time of better battery life.

Sardonic Superskunk and Crystal Castles

16. June 2008

By some cosmic intervention the late train to Hove was cancelled leaving me stranded in Brighton. Not exactly a crisis situation. On my very straight walk back into Hove there was a Ja_zz gig happening, when I asked the drummer if they'd finished playing he thought I was asking if I could play in their set and I politely declined his invitation. That's how cool jazz bands can be, they'll just automatically accept you into their fold a bit like the locals here. Below is a different kind of groove, lead singer of Les Savy Fave reaching out to fans at ATP. Dressed in a Karate suit ( red spandex underneath ) he was the kung fu master of stage performance. It's hard to describe how hard it was to get that picture, enclosed by rabid rockers on booze and jumping pills, I had to concentrate on sweating as a lubricating mechanism so I wouldn't get dragged underneath the crowd. The Times New Viking ( gettit, it's a font joke! ) in the image below were very very loud and in a good sense very very good. Last week was surprisingly entertaining. The Fleet Foxes stunned me with their amazing vocal harmonies, saying that though I actually kind of preferred the Beach House which warmed us up with their melancholic ballads. Honestly I'd slow dance to their music till you start sleepily drooling my shoulder wet. The weekend ended in debauched boat rides with crossdressing crazies, much fun for everyone involved thanks Martin&Harley for the invite. That would only be upstaged with even swankier stories in the most hedonistic style, which would be simply not cool to delve to much into here. Tomorrow is the independence day of northern island rock. Happy joy everyone, one day I'll be with you.

A start, a style

2. June 2008

Glass Candy sings of computer love as I strain my laptop to capture images from their All Tomorrows Parties performance. I thoroughly recomend that peeps try finding their cover of the song Miss Broadway, and perhaps practice dancing with your pants over your stockings, nothing quite like it. The more I listen to these electro lovesick bands like Cut Copy, the more I delude myself that I could make those kind of sounds. So as an attempt of future mockery I went out and bought a microKorg, it's like a Korg but it has tiny knobs and keys. Suffice it to say that there's nothing micro about the waveforms it sends streaming from it's dual oscillators. Is it a toy, or is it something more serious. Well for now it's something of a toy and it's so much fun. Everything seems to oscillate, two weeks ago I was knee deep in playing gta4, absolutely engrossed in the story and the detail that went into making that game. Now however my evenings are spent scanning films and trying to make unique sounds from square waves and effects.

And if no one minds I'll be mine forever

28. Mai 2008

On the way home it felt like autumn had set in. Autumn is when my birthday is. Along with the chinese takeout there was this fortune cookie telling me that I should expect a letter or a gift from a loved one. Maybe that reinforced the misbelief that I was about to celebrate my survival for this calendar year. Due to the lack of festivities (my imagination forgot to invite guests) I fell asleep on my slightly too small couch and awoke to some late evening sunshine that got me kind of excited to go out running, but I'm also trying to watch a film which theme is on growing old and dying and it's confusing me as to whether I want to slouch or sprint. I heard two stories today about marriage, one was from a colleague. He's of Chinese descent and is getting married in a week, he told me that he was a bit stressed. I smiled, because who wouldn't be stressed. Then I asked him if there were any major differences to a Chinese wedding and a traditional Western wedding. This time he smiled and said that there were loads of little superstitions, like how the marriage date is determined from the names of the couple in question (lucky dates) and that was partly the reason why everything was a bit rushed and stressed. This classy guy just tied the knot last weekend, all the best to them. He was trying to explain to me the way he used two dimensional pre-described animations to simulate three dimensional rotations, it made him happy I think. I reckon it's hard though, making it all the way to the altar. A close friend of mine had to postpone her wedding due to red american tape. I'm sure that won't make a dent in her happiness but I'm sorry that the mighty gathering of people is not happening, oh well some other time. Maybe this was the wrong way to drop hints that I'm probably not coming home (as in iceland home) in July. I only know that I'm going to go for a run now, got to get those balls sweaty, everything needs some exercise, and slouching can be left for the golden years.

Your dancy dance makes my sweat sweaty

20. Mai 2008

I went on an impromptu outing to Berlin last weekend to meet up with Gudny and Baldur. My group of friends is so geographically challenged that when there's a possibility of three or more in one place, it makes a two hour plane journey well worth it. Literally three hours after touching down at Schonefeld airport I found myself in an abandoned factory with Baldur. The site was kind of pretty in the same way that corpses can be peaceful, this place however had a more massive pulse than anything I've known. Pumping out a connstant beat of a technical kind. I hardly remember the progression of time as we followed the beat. I do remember when at around seven in the morning, as the beat reached a climax that all the blinds were opened and everyone was bathed in strong sunlight. I half expected screams of pain as the pale looking bodies would burst into fire, revealing their inner vampire at last, but no such luck only sweaty humans smiling with their runny mascara. Thanks sooo much for the hospitality and fun G & B. Here's one of the first images from All Tomorrows Parties, in this particular one I think Jens Lekman is actually singing about Berlin and how he can't be Ninas boyfriend, mainly because she likes girls. I liked it when Jens and his whole band ended by dancing around the stage with arms stretched as if they were airplanes. His songs never had a happy ending, but at least his airplane dance didn't end in flames. I always preferred to shoot Fluff with a wide open lens. Images such as these shouldn't really be kept in the dark. Pictures are important, there's this little gallery in the North Laine here in Brighton which has had such fantastic exhibitions, pictures that swallow your attention, get your imagination going and very nearly go outside the frame in their exposition. As a closing note, if you are planning a wander with some music, check out Crystal Castles and Caribou.

Stretched to the point of numbness

14. Mai 2008

Tiredness creeps up on me, a reminder of all the energy spent on swaying, nodding vigurously or jumping last weekend. There were more subtle reminders, like the glitter stuck to the bottom of my bathtub. I very harshly forced myself to spend time at the laundromat instead of revisiting Glass Candy at the Barfly. Hell, it's not like the future isn't filled with exciting activities, Thursday evening will be spent at the Great Escape here in Brighton, with all different manner of bands playing, Vampire Weekend again, Sunset Rubdown, The Go Team! to name only a few of them. And the good thing is that it's all happening at local venues, somewhat similar to the icelandic airwaves. After work on Friday the plan is jump ship and go out on the town, when I say ship, I mean England and when I say town, I really mean Berlin. I sometimes get pangs of guilt, like I should be working harder, saving more money and not going after all these events. Like my granddad, who is probably the hardest working man I've ever known and an absolute legend. He lived through quite interesting times and I used to cherish the little clock deliveries we did together, when I was working for him. Thing is though that his stories made things very real and finite to me. If all goes well I'll have a grandchild that has the attention span for some story telling, and I want to make them interesting.

A christening of a camera

13. Mai 2008

Right lets kick this year to life. I'll start by confessing that until recently I'd never gone to one of those "let's get fucked on music and mud" festivals like Glastonbury and Roskilde. I was always more of an Inside Pookie. I say until recently, because last weekend was the dorktastic event called All Tomorrows Parties. I know nothing I write can really do justice to the drum genius of Caribou, the ethereal way The Dirty Projectors penetrated the audience or even the poptastic beats of Vampire Weekend. I can however say that I did take my camera with me to the front of nearly every performance ( and even putting a skinny tie on especially for Of Montreal). Now since there was such a huge varience in terms of music styles there'd be moments like when Les Savy Fav were performing, that everyone at the front were mad with punk movement, while the lead singer pretend raped a man dressed in a Pink Panther costume, then putting on said costume to basically crowd surf the audience, everyone meanwhile quite happily sweating their own bodyweight and moshing as if bones were rubber. At the time I thought nothing could bring more joy ... but I hadn't seen Of Montreal. Now I will have to wait for the films to get developed but in the meantime imagine Bowie reborn in the Stardust personality, except he's surrounded by tigers and skeletons that battle it out while he sings songs of rejection. As if my camera hadn't gone through enough trauma during Les Savy Fav, the Of Montreal gang decided that it would be a splendid idea to spray everyone in glitter and champagne, which is how I turned up for work on monday. A good start for a year I already have high hopes for. To the people that made up the times in between bands, you were cherry and some were Robert Smith.