Saturday, 4 October 2008

My new girlfriend

Yeah, so I think I've finally met the girl of my dreams, she's really beautiful and well adjus- ah ha! Got you. Of course my life continues to be an empty, loveless shell, the booze and the tears locked in nightly combat over which - if either - will be the one to finally send me drifting off into a fitful void. Ha, you believed me - joke's on you, sucka. Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahakillmenowhahahahahahahahahaha.
Erm, but anyway, below is a picture of Vanessa Redgrave, my awesome new combination record player/cassette player/CD player wot I bought off ebay. With her cherrywood body and dignified retro look, I decided she needed a name that evoked both redness and dignity and who is more red or dignified than Vanessa Redgrave? Nobody. Not sure I've ever seen the actual VR act in anything, but I think I get the point. And besides such matters are irrelevant - just yesterday evening me and my good friend Andy Field spend a good 15 minutes debating the pros and cons of Daniel Day Lewis as an actor, before both sheepishly admitting that the only film of his either of us had seen was Gangs Of New York. And it was probably the greatest most intelligent discussion ever, so there.


















Obviously if this blog had any sense of dignity I'd have ended with there, a simple way of sharing with you - my loyal, but dispersed readership - the joy that is my new toy. This blog has no dignity.
So the thing is I really fucking hate anybody who claims to be non-materialistic as if it was a virtue.
Frogs are non-materialistic.
Materialism is awesome.
And I'm obviously materialistic: I have a medium-large music collection and a laptop computer, both of which I'd have a stab at saving were a fire to trouble the leafy grandeur of Sefton Park Road. But it occurred to me that prior to purchasing Vanessa Redgrave, I didn't, y'know, particularly like anything I own. Not that I dislike any of it, just that there's no emotional investment; if somebody smashed my laptop up with a hammer, I'd just be quite irritated and buy a new one. I'd be annoyed if somebody threw all my clothes into a vat of acid, but not, y'know, devastated. Even my oft-stated love of Converse is basically laziness more than anything. If I loved them I wouldn't just buy a pair, wear them 'til they fall apart, and then buy another pair, I'd be building up a collection, limited editions, all that gubbins.
Anyway, I don't really know if this means I'm a sociopath, a hippie, a lumbering philistine who simply lacks the refinement required to appreciate the finer things in life, or a chimeric combination of all three.
What I do know is that I probably haven't been as pleased with an object I own as I am with Vanessa Redgrave since maybe an original Breakfast Club poster that I bought in Vegas eight years ago. Don't even know where that is now.
Anyway, blah blah blah, I'm sure I channel my materialism in other ways.
However, the acquisition of a record player that isn't the dilapidated monster in residence at Lukowski HQ: Birmingham has surely given me an inlet into becoming a vinyl junkie, and thus a route back to my discarded humanity. Limited editions, better sound quality... yeah maaaaaaaan.
So I played the various promotional 7-inches I've accumulated over the years. That was okay. The vinyl-only Organ and Fuck Buttons songs I'd been nursing for some time were a bit rubbish, but then again, I suspected they might be.
Then I went on a £5.50 spree on secondhand David Bowie vinyl (Young Americans, Low, Let's Dance, fyi). I was excited for the warmer sound quality. I probably haven't even heard real sound in years. I've just been emptily stumbling through life thinking I could hear music when really it was no more musical than a car screeching, a tramp vomiting. Sounded EXACTLY the same. Maybe Let's Dance was a bit better. Maybe. Probably not.
Then I put on my copy of In Rainbows, which comes on two LPs. Sounds fucking incredible. Genuinely, jaw-droppingly enhances it in a way that no digital remaster I've ever bought has ever done.
So I'm going to become a collector of double vinyl LPs of single albums. It's a small step, but I'm going to become a niche materialist at precisely the point capitalist society falls apart. Fuck you, the fall of capitalist society. I can hear some extra bleepy noises on a Radiohead album.
Customary concluding vid: as I've alluded, Let The Bells Ring by The Organ is basically a slightly meh early Smiths soundalike. However, it's collected on Thieves, an EP of their unreleased work that comes out Oct 13, and at least three of the tracks on it are so good they make me quite angry at the silly broads for massively, massively hating each other. Here are two of said tracks (plus a snippet of Love Love Love, odd editing, innit).
video

1 comment:

Sophie Hammer said...

Vanessa is a thing of beauty - surely many a real breathing lady will be lured back to twiddle its knobs, lol. And if not - well, judging by the red wine and pills in the photo, you've got a suitably glamourous abyss all scoped out...