I should be asleep so that I can wake up tomorrow for school.
But fuck, this is just too good and random to wait.
Firstly, all the following is from the Bridezilla Wikipedia Page. And none was done by me. I have an account on wiki, and I really can’t understand Japanese.
More on that later.
Anyways…
Click to enlarge. Now focus on the six there. The reference, that is.
The year of infinite sadness that is. It’s my HSC year. Oh God, help me.
Anyways, I’m getting used to not having a keyboard and mouse around (technically, a way of forcing me into doing homework and study) and going on the computer with an egg-timer next to me!
I have fifteen minutes to go!
Anyways, things to come in the next few weeks, IN POINT FORM!
Some decent Film Reviews
Photo blogging/reviewing of my trip to Sydney FC v Melbourne Victory
As above, yet on the awesome concert that was THE NATIONAL!
More on my little endeavours through life.
Overall, a more active blog, to keep me sane.
Also, the MASSIVE love for my Big Day Out post is both flattering and gratuitously accepted. Never had such a jump in views in my life! Thank you my visitors!
And so, a naïve pharmacist started what was set to be a big day, pun intended, at Big Day Out 2008. After all the dramas of buying tickets on-line at 4a.m., arguing with pedantic parents on my right to attend and a huge cancellation that came as unexpectedly as the death the day beforehand, I was on my way to what I hoped would be the first of many outings to what is an Australian institution.
I recently got the album Sound of Silver by LCD Soundsystem. It’s such a great, beat-driven, danceably-punky album. Really, for the most part, made of music you can just dance to.
Yet the last track, New York I Love You, But You’re Bringing Me Down, really does something to me. It’s very different to every other track: It isn’t stunningly built like or a crazy party track. It’s slow, conquered by vocalist/producer James Murphy’s crooning vocals, professing the ultimate love/hate relationship: one with your hometown.
In many ways, I feel the same about Sydney. Give the song a listen and you’ll know what I mean…
Sydney Festival First Night was arguably the best way to start a month-long arts, music and culture festival in one of the worlds most vibrant cities. Practically, close off the most family-friendly areas of the CBD and hold a party, complete with gay-disco weddings, raves in Business Precincts and Huge Swing lessons around park fountains.
However, the ticketed “big” headliner proved to be one of the most depressing, life-draining moments in my short live-music-viewing history. A Music Luminary in his own right, Brian Wilson has a grand history as an innovator of pop music in the 60’s, through captaining The Beach Boys. What I saw on-stage at The Domain tonight, however, was a man in tatters. He sat there, emotionless, reading the most well-known non-Beatles lyrics off a teleprompter, banging at a keyboard and flailing his arms around as an entourage of incredibly skilled musicians filled in the wide and deep gaps.
I was told that he suffered a mental breakdown that he never truly recovered from some twenty years ago and, I believe, it clearly shows. It’s odd, seeing an artist and/or band age, especially one that’s not only a celebrity, but so connected to the history of an entire generation. Bob Dylan does so many key-and-lyrical changes in a performance the next thing he’ll be doing a duet with The Mars Volta. The Rolling Stones use a tried and tested formula so much that their recent works sound like filler off albums released decades ago. U2 have seemingly forgotten that they’re not the UN; The Sex Pistols ruin their classics for video games;whilst others are fighting off deaths to rekindle their lost fire. The major difference between them and Wilson, at least, is that they all still show signs of life.
Such is the nature of music’s, or just art in generals, evolution that the artist may never be seen again in the same light, even if they don’t die. I’ve only ever known a Brian Wilson like the one I saw today, and will grow up knwoing Paul McCartney as a boring guy going through a bitter divorce, Michael Jackson as a strange black-turned-white man who “likes” children, and Mick Jagger and Keith Richards as silly old men. This is not because I’m ignorant to their histroy or their place in the music world, but becasue this is what I’ve been presented with as thier characters during my lifetime, leaving me to wonder how they truely were back when they were younger and not at this state.
I wonder where and how we’ll see the big bands and artists of now when they have reached their veteran age? Only time will tell.
Seriously. Were you all asleep during the lessons on light in Science? Did you even read the manual of your oh-so-hawt Sony Cybershot?
All you did was create an annoying strobe-light effect that distracted from what was the better show, that being done by Justin Timberlake. I laugh at the though of seeing your reactions after you took so-many photos with flash, only to see several black screens with dim patches of the stage lighting showing.
That, and you sucked as a crowd. Justin deserved better.
(On that note, the show was damn awesome. I thank Justin Timberlake for hiring the world’s hottest back-up dancers. Ever.)
To try to recover myself from the disappointment from not getting BDO tickets last night, I got the new Radiohead album. So, I paid nothing for it through their “Choose your own price, we really don’t mind,” (see post title) system. Yet not because I’m a scab; Radiohead is actually on the list of bands I will never steal an album from, ever. Rather, I don’t have a credit card. But I will buy the DiscBox version of it, validating my “purchase” as legitimate in my eyes, as well as being conviniently released the day before my birthday. Hooray!
For the record (no pun intended), the album is beautiful. Shows all those other Alternative artists how to do their job, as well all the nu-rave kids why they will never last. And in only 50 minutes as well.
Don’t ask me about which song was the best. I’m still very undecided.
So these past few days have been an equal mixture of lazy and exhilarating. Recently, I’ve gone from a double-headline concert with friends to just sitting at home listening to Silverchair’s Diorama on loop. It’s an interesting feeling, yet also a relaxing one. It’s not often (and it definitely won’t be often in the next year) that people get time to just relax and contemplate the world whilst randomly surfing the Internet. Talking about Silverchair, my hair has recently gone from madman-afro to brunette-Daniel Johns. It gets weird when you look at your own shadow and don’t think it’s you. Yet, overall, the new hair is much better to get around.
Another advantage of all the extra time is the time to watch movies. As was last night, with The Last King Of Scotland. The whole Forest-Whitaker-is-exactly-like-Idi-Adim thing is pretty accurate, so I won’t repeat what every other critic, award ceremony and movie viewer already knows. Yet for me, the film was practically held up by Whittaker. Everything else fell flat. James McAvoy, who’s the Scottish doctor and the technical lead in terms of screen-time, was an emotionless stool; by the end of the film, I cared more for his wide variety of cool seventies suits than him. And whilst I understand they were aiming for the thriller angle, the entire thing felt like a Bond film in the end, with Dr. No or Ernst Starvo Blofield being replaced with one of the most evil men in history. That said, you really can’t go past Whitaker, and there are some genuine moments of tension, usually carried by Forest’s ability to replicate Amin’s paranoid-yet-charming attitude.
Anyways, tonight I watch Zodiac. Right now, I suggest you watch the following spoof of the video clip to one of my favourite songs right now: Interpol’s The Heinrich Maneuver. Great fun, it most definitely is.
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I'm a 17 Year Old Sydneysider who sees, hears and experiences many quirky things. These little things are The Spaces Between, and are documented here. Full description in my Profile.
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