Words = shit,
Words mean nothing,
Words != truth or now or what you feel,
Or what you will feel.
They’re easy and common,
Thrown around bedrooms,
Battered by misuse,
Until they bleed to death.
Hopeful even as they’re
Strangled by phones.
Their meaning beaten out of them
By their careless employers,
I love you.
I’ll never leave you.
You’re so important to me.
I can’t live without you.
I can’t imagine not knowing you.
We’ll always be friends.
I want to grow old with you.
Words = shit,
Words = shit,
Words = shit.
Tonight, my mate Kell came round and we had a chance to explore the lighting I used on the video for ‘Cut Out My Heart’ in stills. Click the pic to see more!
I think I’m really going to miss sodium lighting when it’s all been replaced by the modern, white light equivalents. I love the huge colour of sodium, the way it leaks through branches and the way it creates a fiery backdrop of light.
You’re glowing blue again,
Neon orgone, basking, stretching,
And every atom
Of every molecule
Of every cell
Although his kisses are still on you,
I know you want to be here, Little death, swearing, running,
Tearing through clothes,
Tearing through skin,
Until we are naked.
Bone grating on bone,
Sweat and tears and blood and fuck
Hello! Although I’ve been doing a lot of moping and licking my wounds, I’ve also been busy with music. And video! Check out what I’ve been up to:
I shot the vid on my lovely 5Dmk 2 and finished the edit (in iMovie) this Monday night, around 3.30am. So, it’s hot off the… er… Mac Pro?
The song pretty much sums up where I am now, it’s a snapshot of my emoness, I’ve just snuggled that negativity in quite an upbeat-sounding wrapper. It’s from my new album which should be coming out some time in early ’11.
Thanks to Kelly and Nat for agreeing to star in it and braving the cold!
Look, I’m an Apple whore. Well, inasmuch as a whore pays to get fucked by someone, that is. Perhaps I’m a reverse whore? I’m typing this on a 12-core Mac Pro, I have an 8-core MP in my studio, a Macbook for DJing, iPhone 4, iPad… it’s quite scary how much of my earnings I’ve given them.
What worries me is their recent lack of quality control / poor decisions.
PING – pongs. It’s pointless, clunky and resolutely anti-social. If this is Apple’s attempt to get in on the social, they’ve failed miserably. It’s not even an epic fail, that implies some kind of glorious mishap. Apple’s Ping is not a misfiring rocket, it’s a damp squib, sputtering in a neglected corner. No wonder the new iTunes update lets you turn the fucker off.
GAME CENTER (sic) – first of all, I like in the UK, so I would like to use Game Centre, thank you, imperial masters. Don’t impose your language on me. Secondly – what is the point? Can’t see anything about other gamers, it’s lumbering and futile. No-one I know who is a gamer uses it or enthuses about it. It’s an enormous bag of wank.
iPHOTO 9.1 (475) – so, I got the upgrade to the new iLife, looking forward to all the new social features (do you sense a new obsession for Apple emerging?). It was… alright. I was distinctly underwhelmed, to be honest. And Apple did its signature move: they broke usability in the upgrade. Look here:
Do you see where it says ‘Markeaton Fireworks’ in this view? Previously, I could click on that to change the name of the event. Not now. Apple, in their wisdom, now make me exit this view mode and enter the useless event view mode if I want to change the title. Why? Why fix something that wasn’t broken and that was logical? Now, I have to flip between views to label a set of photos.
Oh, and File Export? Doesn’t work now. Select some pics, click Export and… nothing. You now have to click it twice for it to work. And sometimes it doesn’t at all. Why?
And the last thing… they recently released an upgrade, taking iPhoto to 9.1 (475). I installed it and… it breaks Flickr upload. If I try to upload a set of pics, I get to the prompt where it asks for the new gallery name then I get spinning beach ball of death and then freeeeze. iPhoto falls over every single time. This is a classic Apple breakgrade.
Apple is renowned for its intransigence and arrogance, to both its re-sellers and average customers like me. But we could at least rely on some kind of quality control before. They seem to be misfiring consistently recently, both in terms of concepts like the godawful Game Center and Ping and simple software upgrades. Really, how could a kludge like the recent iPhoto upgrade have escaped into the wild? Surely Apple have some of the best coders on the planet working for them? And I can’t imagine they’re stuck for beta testers either.
So… I’m now left dragging pics onto my desktop and using Flickr’s web upload every time I want to update my sets.
I’m happy to be
In the glow of this bonfire
I’m happy to be
Surrounded and enfolded, invisible in the crowd
I’m happy to be
Though all of the above is obviously a lie
I could have come here with friends
But I didn’t
I could have met friends that were here
But I didn’t
I wanted to be
With a lover
With a friend
I know how much you love fireworks
How they scare you even as they excite you
If I can’t watch fireworks
With my lover
With my friend
I’ll watch them
I remember seeing a stand-up routine years ago. I think it was Richard Pryor and he was talking about how he could be perfectly happy, going about his business when he’d get hit by the word ‘nigger.’ And, no matter how logically he tried to see things, it’d affect him.
This happens to me still. Not was much as before I reached 6’1″, admittedly. But it does happen and I know how he feels. I don’t really know if any white person could say the same. Sympathy ? empathy.
On Friday night, I stopped at the Shell Station on the way home to fill up. I always talk to the bloke in there, he’s one of the cheeriest people I’ve met. Even at the start of a shift that won’t finish till 6am, he’s friendly and smiley.
This Friday, he didn’t seem his usual self. He seemed a bit stressed so I asked him what was wrong.
‘These two lads were trying to buy some fags, through the window opening. They gave me the wrong money. So I told them to give me the right money. They pretended they had but I checked again. When I said, “Come on, lads, this isn’t right,” they just started calling me a fucking Paki. Just shouting it again and again. Wouldn’t stop. Why did they call me that? I’ve always been alright with them. Always. Why call me that?’
I knew exactly how he felt. Unless you’ve been a victim of racial prejudice, you cannot understand how it cuts at you. Some people react by becoming invisible, hoping to evade any attention from potential tormentors. Others become a caricature of the ethnic group they find themselves lumped in. Their pantomime Asian or black or Jew serves, in exaggeration, as a shield. But it is also, of course, a cage.
It made me so sad to see this bloke who’s always so chirpy so unsettled and unhappy. Really, I wanted to give him a hug but I don’t know him that well. I told him I understood and he understood that I understood. We shared a look based on a common pain. I don’t think I helped much but at least he felt a bit less alone. We both know that some people will never, ever see past the colour of our skin.
And people ask me why my band is called White Town.