More STUFF - no worries if this one's just as unpopular as the previous one - five-track CDR with one bonus track not on any download, hand-made hand-painted sleeve with CDR wallet attached, painted CDR label, limited to 4 copies
Includes unlimited streaming of kiwifruit crosssection
via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
more distorted piano ambient - sometimes I forget that my favourite album of the last ten years is the discordant home-schooled guitar-OTToverdosed Julia Hartley Brewer At King Tuts - how did I end up painted into this corner ? - not that I dislike this new one, oh no, not at all - and that might be part of the reason.
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It is surely a shocking indictment of Thatcher's Britain that here on the 21st November - this far into this grey winter - I still have not turned on my heating, but I have the world's largest collection of charity shop jumpers and my body is still warm, but my legs can get cool so a couple of days ago I got some Asda long-johns - a tenner a pair - grey or black, and I chose black.
"Medium" is a bit tight on me and I try not to make various necessary adjustments when out in public. But they're okay. They let my mind wander to various nothings that an old man's mind drifts over to when all purpose has left him.
Talking of jumpers - yesterday I went to Turner Sims for their free lunchtime concert for Trans Day, there was a group of about 8 people, a famous trans group from London, and they were singing, some of it was very beautiful, but after a while the constant "ooooooh"-ing got a bit samey - it was a bit like Paul-stretched Enya. I sat in the front row, about as close to them as possible, next to me was my chum Neil, and Ian too, and further off were Barbara & Co from Hythe. So I was feeling quite relaxed and didn't feel any of the embarrassment that my younger self would've felt during the various moments of mild audience participation - when I make it a point never to do anything.
Sorry but I was a child once and I remember seeing the documentaries on the TV about the rise of the Nazis and how everyone would stand up and raise their arms in grainy brown choreography - and it was not so much to do with the politics, and I just vowed that whenever I was in any kind of crowd I would never never do what everyone else was doing - even if what everyone else was doing was Motherhood and Apple Pie. As my best friends kindly say to me, I am indeed an annoying contrary cunt and they'll never talk to me again and they don't and they haven't.
But all was going well yesterday till towards the end when one of them recited a personal poem and at one point he mocked the boring conventional person s/he'd been before the op saying that that person was sooooo boring that they'd actually used to wear jumpers. I looked down. Yes I was wearing a jumper. Later, during a moment when no one could've noticed, I glanced around and noticed that no one anywhere was wearing a jumper.
When did jumpers become so uncool ? All right, I know that jumpers have never been cool cool COOL. But I've never thought of them as somehow screaming the word UNCOOL. Think of any cool rock star and google their name and bring up a million images of them and I'm sure some will show him/her in a jumper - I have no problem whatsoever in automatically and instantly and unprompted filling my memory with a photo of Johnny Rotten at the height of punk in a jumper. All right, he might have been mocking it.
But anyway, it seems that I must now get rid of all my jumpers. I shall miss them. They are so handy. I really don't want to have to wear jackets all the time. They just never hang right on me. And without jumpers it seems I shall have to turn on my heating. Oh what a bore it is to be a cool musician and always have to do the cool thing.
But at least my legs are warm. No mention yesterday during the Trans gig about long-johns and whether they're fashionable or not. But I must report a shock this morning. I sat down to have a pee - perhaps because I was doing something else as well - and when I stood up and started to put myself back together I noticed around the end of my penis a dark smeary discharge, it was like over-ripe blackberries had oozed out of my dick. Oh god oh god oh god - this is it - this is the end - bladder cancer - to add to the pancreatic cancer that I had a couple of weeks ago when my poohs suddenly went pale for a few days - back then it turned out that I'd simply been eating too many pineapples.
I turned the light on and put my glasses on and it turned out things weren't as bad as I'd thought - Asda's black long-johns aren't very well made, they moult strands and they stain you where you might have dampnesses and really all I had was a classic case of the clap your hands here comes Chinese embroidery - so now it is onward and downward until the next health scare next week - oh god oh god oh god - and a couple of days ago a kind person messaged me and asked if I was feeling suicidal because my apology about the forthcoming surfeit of physical product made me sound like I didn't want anyone else to "come along with me" - no I am not feeling suicidal, quite the opposite, I actually wouldn't mind living for another hundred years but I could do without all the health scares and sudden discoveries that I am even more uncool than my dad was when he was this age, when he let it kill him.
she says this is the last album she'll make like this before she goes off and makes stuff with Lana Del Rey - so just for this moment we have Kathy to ourselves - (yes I love Lana's music too) Simon Aulman
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