Sunday, 6 September 2009

It got colder, that's where it ends

Haven't posted here for months. All sorts of reasons and, simultaneously, no reason at all. It happens or it doesn't. Many's the time I've started writing a post and it's never come to fruition. That's just the way it goes.

There've been all sorts of lovely and important cultural events since I last posted. Maybe I'll get round to talking about them, maybe I won't.

I'm not long back, this evening, from a standard (I'm thinking of it as equivalent to Classic Coke) Duckie in terms of both Readers Wifes being present and correct. Amazing music, played in just the right order, some of it having gradually accreted danceable fabulousness over time (MGMT's Kids) and a good dollop of old favourite loveliness.

Amy commented on there being a "Back To School" vibe and, although my own work is constant through spring, summer, autumn and winter, I can see where she's coming from. I agree with Chelsea Kelsey about the crappiness of autumn creeping in and infecting everything. At the same time, I rather like the fact that it's chillier and we can start wearing different clothing. I've always liked coats; I suspect Echo and the Bunnymen scarred me.

The whole BAK TO SKOOL thing used to majorly hack me off as a child and teenager. I remember raging (in a middle class way) to my parents about the fact that shops placed huge placards outside their doors at this time of year ("why do they have to remind us our holiday's almost over?") and they assumed the most stupid, appalling spelling. If any sentient felines exist, I imagine they feel similarly about the lolcat phenomenon.

Forever Autumn has always linked, in my mind, with the War of the Worlds soundtrack. I can't listen to it without worrying - albeit distantly - about FUCK! ALIEN INVASION!!

(Possibly going to see District 9 tomorrow...)

It was an unusually quiet Duckie in terms of numbers. Rapunzel was there, as was my friend Justin. Amy made popcorn (which I smelled immediately upon entering the Tavern and) which troubled my dodgy teeth for a while and got irritated by the audience's apparent refusal to engage/click with her. I think they were actually distracted by Lazlo Pearlman's final reveal:

Sexy fucker.

The other act was a rather endearing punk-pop duo (or trio, counting their keyboard) Jean Genet, beautifully accessorised with eyeliner, black electrical tape and not much else. Sang a song about a fatal accident caused by Cyndi Lauper's Time After Time ("She's evil") and didn't take themselves at all seriously. Very cute.

Melanie Griffiths and Sal Solo were both present in our audience, or at least their lookalikes were. It was definitely a slightly autumnal, bittersweet Duckie. If it were me DJing, I would've played California Dreaming at some point. The whole thing that makes Duckie work, however, is the fact that the Readers Wifes aren't me. They're smarter than me, infinitely better at delving through past and present mehness to find the gems. That's what they're good at.

This is it, then, really. Lots of stuff since my last update and God knows when there'll be another. But hey ho.