Overflow Wounded (detail) Full picture here
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More scrolling - bloody hell!
Blogging's not dead, it just smells funny, as Frank Zappa never said...about blogging. An FB friend said blogging's been killed by microblogging - she's probably right, but also wrong. When we say a phenomenon's dead we mean it's supposed to be dead, or is dead to us, don't we? I hate that idea; not the personal perspective, but the common consent/drive that supposedly eradicates a thing because, well, that looks like the way things are. It's the mindset of idiots if you ask me...and I'm not about to be idiotic in that respect. I'm idiotic in other ways, thanks. Like the way I carry on posting here, perhaps.
'A labour of love', they call it. If it's such a labour you shouldn't be doing it. Not that I don't labour hard over every word in order to express myself in the clearest way possible, of course - ha-ha. But, you know, when it stops being enjoyable...stop. A lot of bloggers stop because they get so few visits, of course, but I'm happy with my stats. Both visitors are regular at least. The address of one looks familiar, much like mine. Perhaps I should try turning off the thing that registers my visits.
My friend cited one blog she loves so I went there only to see it was stopping. More than that, I thought 'This isn't a blog'. It's a professional-looking site run by more than one person. More like an online magazine, which I've nothing against. Someone has to be professional about supplying information, images, articles etc. But to me that's not blogging. The spirit of blogging is one of individualism and all the cranky personal aspects that entails, isn't it? One person's taste, thoughts, philosophy, meals, records, books whatever.
I know we're all supposed to be hooked on speed in the form of tweets and picture-viewing - no time, NO TIME! But where are we rushing too? Nowhere. The rush is the thing, isn't it? Or rather, the thing is to rush everywhere in order to satiate a hunger that cannot be satisfied. We only stop when we're exhausted, not satisfied.
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By the way, if you see this book lying around, let me know. It's here somewhere. The flat's not that big. But I've lost it, only having bought it two weeks ago. I've looked all over. It's stupid. And maddening. (This isn't my copy, although mine is/was the same edition)
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Source Direct's Approach & Identify has been reissued with a version by Demdike Stare. 20 years old...blimey. Revisiting Source Direct recently, though, they've aged well to my ears. They were favourites in '95 but, you know, one's taste does change. Still, I'd rather listen to a lot of old D'n'B than most new music. That's not strictly true. What I mean is it gives me a buzz that's missing from lot of new stuff, especially with moments like the 4.48 mark on this tune. Demdike Stare do what you'd expect them to and I ain't complaining. It's a predatory sound with sparse claps and the bass of doom, plus what sounds to me like a touch of Mica Levi's Under The Skin soundtrack. All good.
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