Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Monday, September 8, 2008
So I was having a look at the paper this morning, and it seems like every day I am losing more and more of my faith in humanity.
I used to just ignore it, but it has gotten to the point where the drinking and violence on Melbourne streets has become a joke.
Granted I only recently claimed Straight Edge, but at the same time, I have abhorred the way that people keep themselves in public on a Saturday night in the city.
Sometimes I actually do wish that a great flood would wash away the scum and drugs from our streets. I don't know if I want my kids to grow up in this world if that's what they will see as normal.
What a bleak world we live in sometimes...
I used to just ignore it, but it has gotten to the point where the drinking and violence on Melbourne streets has become a joke.
Granted I only recently claimed Straight Edge, but at the same time, I have abhorred the way that people keep themselves in public on a Saturday night in the city.
Sometimes I actually do wish that a great flood would wash away the scum and drugs from our streets. I don't know if I want my kids to grow up in this world if that's what they will see as normal.
What a bleak world we live in sometimes...
the toneless soloist
bound for a pine box
flew too close to the sun
destined to fall
Fall as you sing
Sing as you fail
You won't float on your merit
the fear of sleep you hide
The pressure bearing down
Blue turns to grey
Grey fades to white
the dead stare begins
Devoid of all life
Still falling apart
The brightest spark glows
The burnt breadth of knowledge
Now no one else knows
The world should have ended
When you were thrown from the throne
You're life now in pieces
The embers will burn
And just like the pheonix
Your birth from the flames
They lick at your heels
And cry out your moniker
So this is now ending
My hands gnarled and broke
And at your throat turning
My fingers, you spoke
To say goodbye forever
And foretell what's to come
A world without words
Is one in which I refuse to live
- Craig Wainwright 09/09/08
We live in a world that is often so hard to understand. I am happy to say I have the escape of good books and bad music.
But I'm scared that they won't last for ever.
Then what will we do?
Television will destroy us. It destroys my mind.
But I'll just let it eat at me until there is nothing but a talentless shell.
Then I can be like every other drunk, football loving jock moron.
I won't lie down anymore.
Fuck.
flew too close to the sun
destined to fall
Fall as you sing
Sing as you fail
You won't float on your merit
the fear of sleep you hide
The pressure bearing down
Blue turns to grey
Grey fades to white
the dead stare begins
Devoid of all life
Still falling apart
The brightest spark glows
The burnt breadth of knowledge
Now no one else knows
The world should have ended
When you were thrown from the throne
You're life now in pieces
The embers will burn
And just like the pheonix
Your birth from the flames
They lick at your heels
And cry out your moniker
So this is now ending
My hands gnarled and broke
And at your throat turning
My fingers, you spoke
To say goodbye forever
And foretell what's to come
A world without words
Is one in which I refuse to live
- Craig Wainwright 09/09/08
We live in a world that is often so hard to understand. I am happy to say I have the escape of good books and bad music.
But I'm scared that they won't last for ever.
Then what will we do?
Television will destroy us. It destroys my mind.
But I'll just let it eat at me until there is nothing but a talentless shell.
Then I can be like every other drunk, football loving jock moron.
I won't lie down anymore.
Fuck.
Sunday, August 24, 2008
I don't exist.
I really wish I had written this song.
"Daniel Cowman" - Regina Spektor
On the day that Daniel Cowman stopped existing
The world should have ended right then and there
At precisely four-fifteen when he stopped existing
The world should have ended
How could it go on?
How could it go on?
How could it go on?
Oh and I don't exist
I don't exist
I don't exist
I don't exist
I don't exist
I don't exist
I don't exist
I don't exist
I don't exist
So now that we've got that straight
Doesn't mean that I can fly
Doesn't mean I that I can go do whatever I want.
Now that we've got that clear
And you know that I'm not here
Doesn't mean that I can go do whatever I please.
The premature ejaculation of his death
sentence hit Daniel in the face like a big round spitball hwk-pfffff.
And everything got hazy in the courtroom and then he stood up
And then he sat back down another two times in the row.
And everything got real slow like a gunshot in the movies
And he remembered heroin boy walking in through the door
Bouncing off the walls and the floor
Taking off his belt taking off his pants
Filling up the bathtub
Getting ready to go in for a swim.
Singing I don't exist
I don't exist
I don't exist
I don't exist
I don't exist
I don't exist
I don't exist
I don't exist
I don't exist
I don't exist
I don't exist
And now that we've got that straight,
Doesn't mean that I can fly
Doesn't mean that I can go do whatever I want.
Now that we've got that clear
And you know that I'm not here
Doesn't mean that I can go do whatever I please.
And you start remembering and remembering and remembering
And remembering...
The heroin boy, he walked through the door,
And he was screaming
And I was like 'why's you screaming like it's the end of the world?'
And he was like 'well it is.'
And I was sitting in the corner with my pants down
And I was sure that someone next door was blowing up balloons
And they was red and orange.
And there was that swell lady at the bar just trying to buy gin
And there was this other lady at the bar and she was trying to sell gin
It worked out good for the both of them.
And heroin boy started taking off his belt,
Started taking off his pants,
Started taking off his shoes
filling up the bathtub
Getting ready to go in for a swim
I says "No-o.
You're going to drown.
He says 'No-o,
I can't drown.
Simply because...
Shhhhhhh.
A man destined to hang
Can never drown,
A man destined to hang
Can never drown,
A man destined to hang
Can never ever drown.
A man destined to drown
Can never burn,
A man destined to drown
Can never burn,
A man destined to drown
Can never ever burn.
A man destined to fry
Can never ever ever
A man destined to fry
Can never ever ever
A man destined to fry
Can never ever ever die...
In any other way but frying,
Lucky that I'm dying
By hanging and not drowning.
So now that we've got that straight
Can't I just be left alone?
I want to take a fuckin' bath
"Daniel Cowman" - Regina Spektor
On the day that Daniel Cowman stopped existing
The world should have ended right then and there
At precisely four-fifteen when he stopped existing
The world should have ended
How could it go on?
How could it go on?
How could it go on?
Oh and I don't exist
I don't exist
I don't exist
I don't exist
I don't exist
I don't exist
I don't exist
I don't exist
I don't exist
So now that we've got that straight
Doesn't mean that I can fly
Doesn't mean I that I can go do whatever I want.
Now that we've got that clear
And you know that I'm not here
Doesn't mean that I can go do whatever I please.
The premature ejaculation of his death
sentence hit Daniel in the face like a big round spitball hwk-pfffff.
And everything got hazy in the courtroom and then he stood up
And then he sat back down another two times in the row.
And everything got real slow like a gunshot in the movies
And he remembered heroin boy walking in through the door
Bouncing off the walls and the floor
Taking off his belt taking off his pants
Filling up the bathtub
Getting ready to go in for a swim.
Singing I don't exist
I don't exist
I don't exist
I don't exist
I don't exist
I don't exist
I don't exist
I don't exist
I don't exist
I don't exist
I don't exist
And now that we've got that straight,
Doesn't mean that I can fly
Doesn't mean that I can go do whatever I want.
Now that we've got that clear
And you know that I'm not here
Doesn't mean that I can go do whatever I please.
And you start remembering and remembering and remembering
And remembering...
The heroin boy, he walked through the door,
And he was screaming
And I was like 'why's you screaming like it's the end of the world?'
And he was like 'well it is.'
And I was sitting in the corner with my pants down
And I was sure that someone next door was blowing up balloons
And they was red and orange.
And there was that swell lady at the bar just trying to buy gin
And there was this other lady at the bar and she was trying to sell gin
It worked out good for the both of them.
And heroin boy started taking off his belt,
Started taking off his pants,
Started taking off his shoes
filling up the bathtub
Getting ready to go in for a swim
I says "No-o.
You're going to drown.
He says 'No-o,
I can't drown.
Simply because...
Shhhhhhh.
A man destined to hang
Can never drown,
A man destined to hang
Can never drown,
A man destined to hang
Can never ever drown.
A man destined to drown
Can never burn,
A man destined to drown
Can never burn,
A man destined to drown
Can never ever burn.
A man destined to fry
Can never ever ever
A man destined to fry
Can never ever ever
A man destined to fry
Can never ever ever die...
In any other way but frying,
Lucky that I'm dying
By hanging and not drowning.
So now that we've got that straight
Can't I just be left alone?
I want to take a fuckin' bath
Monday, August 11, 2008
Think of me when you're putting on your makeup darling...
Sat on a plane about an hour away from home and I have had another of those moments when I really feel inadequite.
I have been reading an interview/piece on Radiohead and it makes me feel as though I have nothing of real value to add to the artistic world.
I have set myself a goal that by the end of the coming summer I will work out the songs I want to use for "Versions", then play all the instruments and record all of it myself on a 4 track tape recorder.
Whether I will use live or mapped drums, or any drums at all, hasn't been decided yet, but I need to do this for myself. Although the songs won't be mine, I still need to do the mechanical/practical side of things.
From that I really hope to be able to write my own suff and get some of it out there to make myself feel a little more productive or even more....
Who knows.
I really feel as though I could do so much more. I don't feel as though I have any real talent to speak of. I sit down and put pen to paper and just end up writing in circles, or drawing heavily from another source, or just writing plain garbage (opinion).
I look at people like Thom York and Feist and Fiona Apple, Jesse Lacey and even Keith Buckley and others of their ilk, and then Chris Taylor, Pushead, Jacob Bannon (on multiple planes) and also local artists Callum Preston, Jake Rolfe and my best mate Shane Sterry and it makes me wish I had more patience, more co-ordination or just straight up talent to do the kinds of things they are doing.
Flattery is sometimes my way of expressing my own jealousy. I am lucky to be in a position to be able to put my ideas out there.
I just want add that my life actually rules.
I have the love of a beautiful woman whom I am honoured to have as my wife.
I have a lovely house that I get closer to getting from the bank every month.
I have 2 crazy dogs who I love as though they were my children.
I play in a band that lets me have my say.
I have some friends who I am sure would do anything for me, as I would do for them.
I have a job that pays well and is close to home.
I just feel like I could be so much more.
I wish I could build my wife the house of her dreams with my bare hands.
I wish I could hold a guitar and not feel like it's some foreign object.
I wish I could sing a simple tune.
I wish I was more positive about myself.
I do get great joy from the success of others too though. I don't begrudge anyone anything for being talented. I'm just jealous. Hahaha.
We'll just see where the summer takes us huh?
I have been reading an interview/piece on Radiohead and it makes me feel as though I have nothing of real value to add to the artistic world.
I have set myself a goal that by the end of the coming summer I will work out the songs I want to use for "Versions", then play all the instruments and record all of it myself on a 4 track tape recorder.
Whether I will use live or mapped drums, or any drums at all, hasn't been decided yet, but I need to do this for myself. Although the songs won't be mine, I still need to do the mechanical/practical side of things.
From that I really hope to be able to write my own suff and get some of it out there to make myself feel a little more productive or even more....
Who knows.
I really feel as though I could do so much more. I don't feel as though I have any real talent to speak of. I sit down and put pen to paper and just end up writing in circles, or drawing heavily from another source, or just writing plain garbage (opinion).
I look at people like Thom York and Feist and Fiona Apple, Jesse Lacey and even Keith Buckley and others of their ilk, and then Chris Taylor, Pushead, Jacob Bannon (on multiple planes) and also local artists Callum Preston, Jake Rolfe and my best mate Shane Sterry and it makes me wish I had more patience, more co-ordination or just straight up talent to do the kinds of things they are doing.
Flattery is sometimes my way of expressing my own jealousy. I am lucky to be in a position to be able to put my ideas out there.
I just want add that my life actually rules.
I have the love of a beautiful woman whom I am honoured to have as my wife.
I have a lovely house that I get closer to getting from the bank every month.
I have 2 crazy dogs who I love as though they were my children.
I play in a band that lets me have my say.
I have some friends who I am sure would do anything for me, as I would do for them.
I have a job that pays well and is close to home.
I just feel like I could be so much more.
I wish I could build my wife the house of her dreams with my bare hands.
I wish I could hold a guitar and not feel like it's some foreign object.
I wish I could sing a simple tune.
I wish I was more positive about myself.
I do get great joy from the success of others too though. I don't begrudge anyone anything for being talented. I'm just jealous. Hahaha.
We'll just see where the summer takes us huh?
Friday, August 8, 2008
Why I hate airports
I fucking hate flying.
I don't go too badly once I actually get in the air. Part of it could be the pressure fucking with my head and my sinus, some of it is the fear that goes with flying.
I have never really been one to worry about all the bullshit that goes with a fear of flying but you always have that little niggle at the back of your mind that you do your best to quash.
The best thing about the flying experience these days is the inflight entertainment in the form of foxtel for the princely sum of $9.90.
Seriously the best $9.90 I spent on the way to Perth.
Highlights/lowlights in the first hour:
Got stung with excess baggage, luckily it was only $20.
Joey, Shane and Pav nearly missed the flight, got paged and all.
The stewardess that look heeeeaps like my baby sister hooked me up a less cramped seat and a new screen because my one went on the fritz, then it started working again and Pav got a better seat because I moved and he got free Foxtel because it started working again.
Junkyard Wars
Inspector Gadget
Watching a cracker of an episode of Bargain Hunt.
Lollies and pringles and coke for dinner.
Awwwww yeah Ren and Stimpy!
Foo Fighters max masters with heaps of Nirvana shit too. Fucking ruled!
If you're reading this, go and check out a fucking Foo Fighters record.
I have no officially added Dave Grohl to my list of people I want to meet. Would be siked I reckon.
Oh yeah,
And I fucking hate landing...
I don't go too badly once I actually get in the air. Part of it could be the pressure fucking with my head and my sinus, some of it is the fear that goes with flying.
I have never really been one to worry about all the bullshit that goes with a fear of flying but you always have that little niggle at the back of your mind that you do your best to quash.
The best thing about the flying experience these days is the inflight entertainment in the form of foxtel for the princely sum of $9.90.
Seriously the best $9.90 I spent on the way to Perth.
Highlights/lowlights in the first hour:
Got stung with excess baggage, luckily it was only $20.
Joey, Shane and Pav nearly missed the flight, got paged and all.
The stewardess that look heeeeaps like my baby sister hooked me up a less cramped seat and a new screen because my one went on the fritz, then it started working again and Pav got a better seat because I moved and he got free Foxtel because it started working again.
Junkyard Wars
Inspector Gadget
Watching a cracker of an episode of Bargain Hunt.
Lollies and pringles and coke for dinner.
Awwwww yeah Ren and Stimpy!
Foo Fighters max masters with heaps of Nirvana shit too. Fucking ruled!
If you're reading this, go and check out a fucking Foo Fighters record.
I have no officially added Dave Grohl to my list of people I want to meet. Would be siked I reckon.
Oh yeah,
And I fucking hate landing...
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
We Don't Like Romance
Been a little while since I update. Got told off on Saturday night for not updating enough.
Been listening to a bunch of stuff I used to ages and ages ago (or so it seems). Just started listening to The Promise Ring - 30 Degrees Everywhere after a long time, and it is actually still a fucking rad record. Lo-fi, low mixed vocals, catchy as hell. Just awesome.
Sussed a record by a band called Black Lungs called Send Flowers, and I have to say it has actually pushed me harder to want to do my own solo music/band/project.
I have actually been talking about this for a couple years now, I plan to record it and release it myself, hopefully play a couple shows and try to find some skerrick of talent in these old hands. The idea is this: Rewrite and record a handful of covers by some of my favourite artists (mostly female at this stage) such as PJ Harvey, Fiona Apple, Feist, etc... and record them using mostly the meager instruments around the house (which include: a tiny 15 watt amp, an old Ibanez SG copy, a fairly decent acoustic guitar, an out of tune piano and my Shure beta 58) and then put it out on some format or another. Maybe I'll just do it digitally, or sell whats left of my small record collection and put it on a 7".
It will be called "Versions" and it will be what it is. Whatever that might be...
Been playing interstate a bit lately, and when I have been away, been missing my chick like crazy, so I'm gonna re-work how I play interstate, to make sure I stay siked and that I an suss a family. But I am going to Perth this weekend, which should rule. Gonna play some good shows, drink some amazing coffee, see my mates new baby and just generally hang tough!
Also been listening to the new Carpathian record, Isolation, flat out. Such a well written record, and Marty has pretty much done everything I have wanted to do with an album, so I am both siked and jealous as hell. hahahaha.
The new Norma Jean album is also killing it for me right now. Heavy and melodic and well written. Good music is coming left, right and centre at the moment. Once the Hopeless album drops, I can take the next year off from music. hahaha.
Other than that, life is good, friends are good, the dogs are awesome and my wife makes the best corn flake crackles ever!
Stay gold kids.
xclagx.
Been listening to a bunch of stuff I used to ages and ages ago (or so it seems). Just started listening to The Promise Ring - 30 Degrees Everywhere after a long time, and it is actually still a fucking rad record. Lo-fi, low mixed vocals, catchy as hell. Just awesome.
Sussed a record by a band called Black Lungs called Send Flowers, and I have to say it has actually pushed me harder to want to do my own solo music/band/project.
I have actually been talking about this for a couple years now, I plan to record it and release it myself, hopefully play a couple shows and try to find some skerrick of talent in these old hands. The idea is this: Rewrite and record a handful of covers by some of my favourite artists (mostly female at this stage) such as PJ Harvey, Fiona Apple, Feist, etc... and record them using mostly the meager instruments around the house (which include: a tiny 15 watt amp, an old Ibanez SG copy, a fairly decent acoustic guitar, an out of tune piano and my Shure beta 58) and then put it out on some format or another. Maybe I'll just do it digitally, or sell whats left of my small record collection and put it on a 7".
It will be called "Versions" and it will be what it is. Whatever that might be...
Been playing interstate a bit lately, and when I have been away, been missing my chick like crazy, so I'm gonna re-work how I play interstate, to make sure I stay siked and that I an suss a family. But I am going to Perth this weekend, which should rule. Gonna play some good shows, drink some amazing coffee, see my mates new baby and just generally hang tough!
Also been listening to the new Carpathian record, Isolation, flat out. Such a well written record, and Marty has pretty much done everything I have wanted to do with an album, so I am both siked and jealous as hell. hahahaha.
The new Norma Jean album is also killing it for me right now. Heavy and melodic and well written. Good music is coming left, right and centre at the moment. Once the Hopeless album drops, I can take the next year off from music. hahaha.
Other than that, life is good, friends are good, the dogs are awesome and my wife makes the best corn flake crackles ever!
Stay gold kids.
xclagx.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
