Thursday, September 28, 2006

48

I'm sitting on the sofa with Wolf 125 and a bass guitar. Today was the guitar's birthday. The name of the guitar is Coco Chanel. Wolf's not taking much as he keeps popping out to the garage to smoke hashish and Camels. I'm not sure which one is worse. Coco's not much of talker either.

Wolf comes back and we notice that the NZ Music award for best technician work is very poorly shot with cruddy sound. The presenter just reads out the names of the albums--there's no wipe-overs at the bottom of the screen showing you the CD covers or anything. It's just a list of names. Coco reckons we should email then and complain but we can't be stuffed.

Then there's this clip of Ruth from Minuit dressed in a schoolgirl's uniform--we look down on her from a high shot. She energetic, perhaps even anger, in the edgy three second clip. In a flash she vanished and I'm left wondering about that role, that message, and why it has been delivered to me.

Friday, September 22, 2006

49

--not that everything good was in the past, he adds.

He said too much.

--much good stuff was recorded in the early 90s. Suede. Happy Mondays. And the 90s is not without its pleasures. He adds.

He pulls into the full car park. She doesn’t want to wait in the passenger seat because she wants to pop out for the dairy for a chocolate bar. For a strange moment he wonders if Liquorland sells candy.

--Let’s drive on. I’m not so sure about the 21st. But I like Minuit. Yea, I like Minuit.
--I don’t know about them. I don’t like the name. How stupid is that? She adds.