![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Is there any particular reason I should be in London on Friday, Saturday or Sunday?
With council tax set to rocket, what (aside from the ace libraries) are Islington spending my money on? Well, they're cracking down on the illegal fag sellers on Holloway Road, which seems fair enough - except that from this page, they seem more concerned with ads aimed at the buyers than at taking down the sellers. The sellers are not exactly subtle - surely frequent, massed plainclothes sweeps would do the job? Oh, and there's the Finsbury Park Area Action Plan (not, incidentally, at the url given on the paper copy they sent out, which omitted the final .asp) - which, reading slightly between the lines, is clearly a manifesto for turning Finny P station into a ghastly, unwieldy mini-me of the mall-stations like Hammersmith. Still, if you've been sent a copy, do be sure to return the form with your comments - I have little faith that they'll take any notice of what we actually want, but if we don't participate in this sham we lose the moral right to complain about it later. Speaking of which, all those of you who endorsed the arrival of the serpent buses on safety grounds? A colleague saw someone trapped in the door and dragged along the road yesterday, an utter impossibility on the Routemaster.
Last night, I read The Life Eaters by David Brin and Scott Hampton, an elaborate blasphemy against the Old Gods in comic form. It's not true, but it's still quite a good read.
Does it unnerve anyone else that in all the posters for Sinatra at the London Palladium, there's no mention that the star of the show is slightly...mortally challenged? I mean, yes, you might think it's obvious, and I might think it's obvious, but I remember a Varsity music *editor* who tried to get an interview with Nick Drake...on which note Darker Than The Deepest Sea: The Search For Nick Drake by Trevor Dann
The dreamy, dark and folk-tinged songs of Nick Drake are part of the critical canon nowadays; he's a fashionable name to drop in interviews, or deploy on film soundtracks. But as is so often the case, this fame was strictly posthumous; the life Dann recounts is a depressing slog of repeated commercial failure and ever-deepening personal problems, climaxing in a drug overdose which may have been either a tragic accident or an unsurprising suicide. Dispiriting as it is, Dann's book also feels somehow slight, not so much through any fault of the writer (who, if not a great stylist, is competent and commendably thorough) as through the nature of the 26-year life it recounts. The singer Robyn Hitchcock (like Drake, a key influence on REM) is quoted as saying "Nick Drake's music brushes the ear" - similarly, Nick Drake brushed the lives of those he knew. At best, one interviewee after another repeats variations on a theme of how you never really got to know Nick, and he always seemed detached from life. At worst, he comes across as the Pete Doherty of his day, 'untogether' even by sixties standards, the blame for most of his problems very much on his own slender shoulders.
As the book recounts, Nick Drake is the sort of artist who breeds obsessive fans; his oblique lyrics can support myriad interpretations, and something in his vocal style makes the listener feel he’s singing just to them, that he understands. Most people would be better sticking with the music than reading this book; it’s more likely to detract from appreciation of his work than enhance it. There’s little new here, and less of that significant - except one late, distasteful and rather random suggestion that Drake may have been abused as a child, offered without plausible support.
My favourite new band name: The Strange Death Of Liberal England.
With council tax set to rocket, what (aside from the ace libraries) are Islington spending my money on? Well, they're cracking down on the illegal fag sellers on Holloway Road, which seems fair enough - except that from this page, they seem more concerned with ads aimed at the buyers than at taking down the sellers. The sellers are not exactly subtle - surely frequent, massed plainclothes sweeps would do the job? Oh, and there's the Finsbury Park Area Action Plan (not, incidentally, at the url given on the paper copy they sent out, which omitted the final .asp) - which, reading slightly between the lines, is clearly a manifesto for turning Finny P station into a ghastly, unwieldy mini-me of the mall-stations like Hammersmith. Still, if you've been sent a copy, do be sure to return the form with your comments - I have little faith that they'll take any notice of what we actually want, but if we don't participate in this sham we lose the moral right to complain about it later. Speaking of which, all those of you who endorsed the arrival of the serpent buses on safety grounds? A colleague saw someone trapped in the door and dragged along the road yesterday, an utter impossibility on the Routemaster.
Last night, I read The Life Eaters by David Brin and Scott Hampton, an elaborate blasphemy against the Old Gods in comic form. It's not true, but it's still quite a good read.
Does it unnerve anyone else that in all the posters for Sinatra at the London Palladium, there's no mention that the star of the show is slightly...mortally challenged? I mean, yes, you might think it's obvious, and I might think it's obvious, but I remember a Varsity music *editor* who tried to get an interview with Nick Drake...on which note Darker Than The Deepest Sea: The Search For Nick Drake by Trevor Dann
The dreamy, dark and folk-tinged songs of Nick Drake are part of the critical canon nowadays; he's a fashionable name to drop in interviews, or deploy on film soundtracks. But as is so often the case, this fame was strictly posthumous; the life Dann recounts is a depressing slog of repeated commercial failure and ever-deepening personal problems, climaxing in a drug overdose which may have been either a tragic accident or an unsurprising suicide. Dispiriting as it is, Dann's book also feels somehow slight, not so much through any fault of the writer (who, if not a great stylist, is competent and commendably thorough) as through the nature of the 26-year life it recounts. The singer Robyn Hitchcock (like Drake, a key influence on REM) is quoted as saying "Nick Drake's music brushes the ear" - similarly, Nick Drake brushed the lives of those he knew. At best, one interviewee after another repeats variations on a theme of how you never really got to know Nick, and he always seemed detached from life. At worst, he comes across as the Pete Doherty of his day, 'untogether' even by sixties standards, the blame for most of his problems very much on his own slender shoulders.
As the book recounts, Nick Drake is the sort of artist who breeds obsessive fans; his oblique lyrics can support myriad interpretations, and something in his vocal style makes the listener feel he’s singing just to them, that he understands. Most people would be better sticking with the music than reading this book; it’s more likely to detract from appreciation of his work than enhance it. There’s little new here, and less of that significant - except one late, distasteful and rather random suggestion that Drake may have been abused as a child, offered without plausible support.
My favourite new band name: The Strange Death Of Liberal England.
no subject
Date: 2006-02-21 11:07 am (UTC)Club Mental is on Saturday Barry. I hope you remembered to put it in the Guide! We need all the help we can get because it appears that NO ONE LOVES US.
xx
I'm sure I've said this before, but...
Date: 2006-02-21 11:10 am (UTC)Re: I'm sure I've said this before, but...
From:no subject
Date: 2006-02-21 11:15 am (UTC)I'm coming round to your view on bendy-buses, but it's because I'm a racist.
no subject
Date: 2006-02-21 11:17 am (UTC)Explain your working on the second point.
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2006-02-21 11:30 am (UTC)What are the plus points again?
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2006-02-21 11:19 am (UTC)This is purely from a passenger perspective - I'm not going to touch the pedestrian/cyclist viewpoint, it's a different argument.
no subject
Date: 2006-02-21 11:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-21 11:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-21 11:30 am (UTC)(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2006-02-21 11:30 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-21 11:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-21 11:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-21 11:39 am (UTC)Legitimate reason a) They'd rather have the dealers where they can see them.
Rubbish reason b) It would really screw with the racial mix in their stop and search and arrest statistics.
Reason c) that I haven't thought of yet.
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2006-02-21 11:40 am (UTC)(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2006-02-21 11:39 am (UTC)just because injury is possible does not mean injury is more likly
again bendy busses *are* safer - statistically, but again I'll remind you that the real reason bendy buses are better is that they are fairer to less able bodied people and people with children
but that again we know that statistics or fairness have little place in barry's world if he is inconvenienced slighty
no subject
Date: 2006-02-21 11:42 am (UTC)(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2006-02-21 11:46 am (UTC)Fairer than Routemasters. But not modern double/single deckers with low floors. Bendy buses are overcrowded and have less seating. The 25 route is horrendously overcrowded, and almost every time I've travelled on the bus I have seen pushchair-wielding mums/elderly people pushed out of the way or simply not let onto the bus at all by the selfish citizens of Tower Hamlets.
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2006-02-21 12:19 pm (UTC)(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2006-02-21 11:44 am (UTC)-x-
Cross-time Britney? I wouldn't mind travelling through her vortex.
Date: 2006-02-21 11:46 am (UTC)Re: Cross-time Britney? I wouldn't mind travelling through her vortex.
From:Re: Cross-time Britney? I wouldn't mind travelling through her vortex.
From:Re: Cross-time Britney? I wouldn't mind travelling through her vortex.
From:Re: Cross-time Britney? I wouldn't mind travelling through her vortex.
From:Re: Cross-time Britney? I wouldn't mind travelling through her vortex.
From:no subject
Date: 2006-02-21 11:58 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-21 12:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-21 12:03 pm (UTC)Doesn't matter if I don't write cheques, I write rhymes.
Date: 2006-02-21 12:08 pm (UTC)Re: Doesn't matter if I don't write cheques, I write rhymes.
From:Re: Doesn't matter if I don't write cheques, I write rhymes.
From:no subject
Date: 2006-02-21 04:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-21 04:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-21 04:10 pm (UTC)True fact: In the mid-80s, an Elvis compilation came out to mark his "30 years in show business".
no subject
Date: 2006-02-21 04:16 pm (UTC)