Oh Mother, I can feel, the soil falling over my head.

It has finally come my attention I am utterly incapable of being creative. Now this would not have to be a problem, if I did not long to successfully express myself. Somehow, in some form.

I quickly learnt during my GCSE's I was fucking rubbish at art. Possibly due to my oafish tendencies and bear paws. Dexterity does not have my back. Sure, I could teach myself photoshop out of a book and become a graphic designer on myspace. But I am not a twat. I also lack ingenuity and ideas.

I have had a guitar for coming on to four years now, and I am utterly useless. I have very little theoretical knowledge other than a few chords. I can't even jam a few ideas in the hardcore punk stylee. I just cannot create when I have her in my hands. Maybe I should have lessons, but you cannot teach creativity. This puts me off.

So what about trying my hand at writing. I've tried that with this here blog. Dipping my toe in that magical sea of language. Only to start flapping like a cat in a bathtub. What a horrible similie. Its painful to write even the most simple entries. Serious.

I even stole the title of this post from our good friend Stephen Patrick.

The essence of this schtick is thus: I am totally mediocre and I will never leave my mark on this world. Most people at least reproduce another generation. I have however written this off as improbable.

I will however cut a deal with you. If you can stomach this illegible, unremarkable, piss poor version of story telling, I will keep it up. And God (Google) willing, this can be my meagre offerings of a legacy.

R x




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Saviour.

Bayo

One Love.

This Week's Top 5 Cuts

In no particular order...

Elliott Smith - 'New Disaster'.
This is my favourite song from the compilation album 'New Moon'. This album tracks his unreleased work between Heatmiser and the man's 3rd solo album 'Either/Or'. Frankly, how it didn't make it on to a proper release is beyond me. The meandering guitar line/melody which haunts the song is rather good and for a low-fi recording has a full bodied sound. I also managed to figure out how to play said guitar line.

Beck - 'Where it's at'.
The eagle eyed (no cherry) among you may have noticed that I purchased a deluxe copy of Beck's 'Odelay' last week. This is jam from the aforementioned record just has so much groove. I can't really describe it without saying it sounds like Beck (that Lofiamericanahiphoppsychy thing). Definitely a party tune. Well a cool kids party. "I got two turntables and a microphone".

Deal With It - 'Terrorstorm'
Deal With It are hard as hell. This number from the full length, is a stand out for me. The new record has more of a Leeway, Icemen, later Cro Mags, early 'tallica vibe to it, tastefully done I might add. Lyrically depicting the demise of the world outside backed with fat riffs this track really is a gem.

Morrissey - 'Speedway'
I love Morrissey. Possibly because I don't get laid enough. Probably because I have no time for the majority of lowest common demoninators I come into contact with. Either this song is one of Mozza's finest. I like it that much I have been listening to two versions. The one that closes the Vauxhaul and I album and the live B side to 'I just want to see...' Just listen to it. I particularly like the closing lines of 'in my own strange way, I have always been true to you'. I'm not wholly sure about the subject matter (it may be about the court case over Smiths royalties) but Moz can sculpt language like a master craftsman.

Squeeze - Pulling Mussels (from a shell)

This is a quintessentially English pop song, regaling all the fun of the seaside holiday. Best served with a 'kiss me quick, squeeze me slow' hat.
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A classic Saturday night in

This evening, I am alone - and it really feels alright. I've had quite a week.

I started work experience with a wonderful little PR company called Quite Great on Monday, and it's been highly enjoyable from the start. Thursday was quite a day for good news. I was (informally) offered a job, which, circumstances permitting, will be brilliant.

I also heard from my MA advisor that my dissertation is going to be published! The people who helped me out financially (those at the Harry Watson bursary)enjoyed reading it, and are going to publish it under the auspices of Norwich HEART. It will go online and in pamphlets. Once all is confirmed, I'll post a link on here for your delectation - it's really quite an undertaking though, I must warn you in advance.

So, in a nut shell, I'm one step closer to gainful employment and my academic pretensions are finally be recognised. A good week on Planet Joe.*

My soundtrack?
Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds - Murder Ballads
Neil Young - After the Gold Rush
Sufjan Stevens - Come on! Feel the Illinoise!
Fleet Foxes - s/t

I haven't listened to Neutral Milk Hotel all week.

Bring on Match of the Day!

Jx

*Planet Joe is a wonderful book that I highly recommend.

Confessional

Yesterday, whilst I was making the five o'clock escape from the office, I passed our building's cleaner. She is a middle aged, ginger haired women and on this day she looked particularly down. After I saw her, I felt sorry for her. I bitch and moan about having overtly dull job with an ongoing onslaught of tedious exams, yet she has to clean and tidy after us 'professional types'.

After this, thought I felt disgusted with myself. What right do I have for feeling sorry for her? She may enjoy her job or earn a decent crust. Or maybe she does it to support her family. Or maybe to feed her cats. Who knows?

I assumed that she was looking sad because she had to clean up after me. To me, this felt like I was looking down upon her career. What right, do I or anybody for that matter, to feel sorry for somebody because of there job, when I know nothing about them. She should pity me. Someone who hasn't got a clue.

The truth is, I think what I felt was respect for this woman. Cleaning is something that I hate, if this women enjoys it then right on! If she doesn't enjoy it and has to clean up after some of the chodes in my building - right, right on. At least she isn't dealing crack for a living. (Again another assumption)

I am fortunate enough that I shine a chair with my arse for my currency. But I do not feel that walking in her shoes is below me, far from it.

Besides, she could have had piles. That would make me look sad.
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Building blocks

HERO.

No more posts today, sorry.

J x

Ode

Can I borrow a feeling?

Could you lend me a jar of love?

Hurtin' hearts need some healin',

Take my hand with your glove of love

J x

Our Wax

Full commentary to come our or respected booty. Yarr Matey!

R x
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Chapters

'What is that feeling when you're driving away from people and they recede on the plain till you see their specks dispersing? - it's the too-huge world vaulting us, and it's good-by. But we lean forward to the next crazy venture beneath the skies.'

From Jack Kerouac, On the Road (1957)


Currently listening to: Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, Murder Ballads (1996)

J x

Sing to the tune of the sexual divide

Hiya love,

My mother was listening to something on the radio this morning - the channel, show and people involved is unimportant. The content, however, was fascinating, and I'd like to discuss it with you. Forgive my style for being overly formal, I've been writing applications and covering letters all week.

Anyway. Said program discussed the intrinsic sex divide in music fandom. It said that men, as a result of their very nature, are disposed to forcing their music taste on their spouses. This is particularly the case in younger men. The gentleman in question told of a situation in which he forced a pair of headphones on his now wife in order to educate her musically. He soon realised that this was perhaps not the basis for a healthy relationship, but the desire remained. Older men, heads of families, are disposed to playing their music loud while others are around - in the car for example - in order to better promote their music taste. The program even went as far as to suggest that, for many people, musical taste can be a vital factor when choosing a partner.

In my experience, all of this is true. I met my girlfriend at a show, and it began a long and happy relationship. Our initials bonds were formed over a love of music. I can't imagine ever being with anyone who doesn't have at least a passing interest in music. I don't so much care what they're in to - I'm just turned on, mentally of course, by that passion for the art.

Likewise, my father is incapable of listening to music quietly, or with doors closed.

This information made me smile. I agree with it completely.

There is a divide between the way men and women listen to and perceive music, and it should be celebrated.

J x

Currently listening (in a manly way) to: The Most Serene Republic - Population

Plus Benefits

I am ungrateful. I have it easy; career opportunities, a reliable car, a loving family, yet I am perpetually unhappy. Unfortunate. Unforgiving.

I am having trouble giving in to this mediocrity. The realisation that I will be doing something I don't give a hoot about with majority of my waking hours.

Education, the inquisitive mind will set you free, yet it is hindering me. Cementing the shackles. University showed me how life could be. My studies taught me to look beyond the surface.

I feel I need a lobotomy to fit in. To give in to being a drone. Never question why I am a dogsbody.

Like the Talking Heads, I find myself asking 'Well, how did I get here?'

"Shine on me baby, 'Cause its raining in my heart".

Why don't you quit then?
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rut

Good evening dearest,

How are things? You know, I'd really like to hear about what's going on with you. I've got nothing to offer right now - I'm trying to think, but there's really nothing.

Today, I listened to the Good Life's Album of the Year. In a nutshell - Tim Kasher from Cursive goes a bit country and tells the story of a single relationship, from inception to breakup, in one LP. It's a super listen, if a little heavy-going in parts. I like the production (Mike Mogis of Bright Eyes fame) and the songs. The lyrics are very much the record's centre piece, which doesn't usually float my boat, but Kasher is just so astute and self deprecating - like Bukowski poems put to music - that it's very difficult not to retreat with him, into his seemingly miserable little world.

Just check it out yourself.

Bye.

J x

On a new phase in life

Once again, I am back on planet earth. Last night, I got a little cryptic - I just felt like I had a few things to tell my darling blog - and I'm sorry. I see daylight, so I think that means I might have crawled out of my own arse.

So, I finished my Ma. I am a master, the master, of the history of medicine. My thesis seems to have been received well thus far, but we will see how it fairs. The only important opinion really is that of the examiner.

I've learnt a lot this year, about myself - I'm scared of a lot of things but, when I put my mind to it, life can really be quite easy. There is so much in the psychological battle that we wage with our own minds on a daily basis. We slash and we stab and we cut at our own psyche. We put up walls that need not be there. We tell ourselves to fear things that are nothing more than particles, ether, circumstance. But how do we harness the power of our own minds?

How do we save that little part of us that says 'hey, junior, this is all bullshit'? Because, there really is no need to worry, is there? We can overcome any obstacle, can't we? Fears, and challenges - all they require is work, commitment, strength and positivity. How can I preserve this mindset?

In the coming weeks, I will return to this post. When my confidence is knocked, as inevitably it will be in my search for gainful employment, I will try to restore this frame of mind.

I can do it. I can, and I will.

Shit, it's getting dark! I think I've retreated back! Back! Back! Back up my own arse!

Just listen to the Boss and be done with it.

Joseph x

A letter

Oh humble blogosphere, have I offended thee?

You don't call any more, and it's been months since your last letter.

I'd all but forgotten about you, even found a new mistress.

But it was never like it was with you - I wrapped things up after 21,000 little words, and then I left without so much as a note.

I need you back.

What if we just went back to the way things were? I'd cut my hair like I used to, and wear that old t shirt you bought for me. You know the one.

We just need to spend more time together.

For a while, after we split, I didn't have much time for anything. But then I put on a Neutral Milk Hotel record - In the Aeroplane Over the Sea - and it made me remember how much I loved having you around. Just to talk to. You always were a great listener.

I felt deeply in touch with something inside me. I think it was my soul. The music and words sounded so awkward, but in some beautiful and undeniably potent way, it all just fit. As Aeroplane played, I was the only person in the world, but I wasn't afraid. I was just relieved and elated.

I thought you might like to hear about it, that's all.

I understand if you don't want to talk anymore, but please give us - me - another chance. We had something pretty special didn't we? I promise I'll check in everyday.

I love you.

J x

Crackberry.

Robbie Snugglebugs has got a new phone. It's a BlackBerry Curve 8320. I can blog from it apparently. So this is the first post from my new 'lifestyle accessory'.

P.S

Listen to Nimrod by Green Day.

Why?

Because its an underated gem.

And because they will always be better than Blink 182...

R x
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