Death of the Album?

Recently, I have returned to listening to vinyl again and for one main reason, to appreciate an album's quality from the first track to the last without skipping the dodgy ones or the so-called 'fillers'. Often when the lack of free memory on my computer starts causing it to stutter, I have a look at what I can delete and come across hoarded album files that I never listen to, some of them are a complete mystery to me. Basically, there is too much there and not enough time to really listen to it and appreciate it.

When I listen to music on my computer, it is common for a song to not survive until the end before it is skipped. If there is a visitor around, this form of skipping becomes more extreme and irritating. 'Wait for this part', 'Hang on, the next bit is great' are repeated alongside this as a running commentary of a very low attention span.
I think this form of impatience and lack of commitment to a piece of music is common and becoming even more so. Are we really losing track (pun intended) of what magic there is in the beauty of a well-crafted collection of music that has been well thought out from the first audible sounds to the fade out at the end, from the title, the carefully chosen names of songs to the whole packaging that goes with it? There are still regular surveys in music magazines on what is the best album of all time with regulars always up there from bands like 'The Beatles', 'U2', 'The Beach Boys' alongside contemporary classic albums by 'Radiohead' and ...'Catatonia', well maybe not the last one.

The point is that for me, when I used to hear singles on the radio, I would anticipate the album with great impatience and would lose respect for the band if they couldn't match the quality of their singles with other great album tracks.

Nowadays it is a very rare occasion when I pay for music, which is bad in itself, but when I do and it is usually in vinyl form (having a really noisy disk drive discourages me from listening to CD's as well as the fact that the packaging not to mention the sound is inferior) I really do try to go back to the feelings I used to have when I had to appreciate the limited number of cassettes I owned and therefore would play them repeatedly until they became ingrained into me. For me the album is not dead and can't die.

Time to turn over to side B.

A New Start

So, another new year is approaching and this time I am quietly optimistic. I used to consider September 1st the beginning of the year. Now, it is sometime in the middle of October as this is when there is a new start in the teaching world and mine. January 1st has never had much of a strong meaning for me.

Despite this, plans are starting to form in my head. Resolutions have never really worked for me so I don't really spend much energy on them but plans are things that I do look forward to. Some involve the anticipation of hard work and graft, hours of mind racking and head scratching to create the finished product. Travel, on the other hand, simply involves budgetary plans but this does not make it easier in any way. It does make the long days of preparation, running around town and teaching worthwhile though and adds another worthwhile incentive to that of basic survival.

Regarding the eve of the new year, I plan to follow the pattern of previous eve's by relaxing. No fireworks, no over indulgence in champagne of other forms of booze, no dancing on tables, no mulitple countdowns which lead to a big anti-climax and most of all no big plans. I will save those for the rest of the year. 

Christmas - what I don't like and what I like.

I don't like Christmas for many reasons as I wrote one year ago in this blog. I don't like the build up to this time with all the signs pointing at you to 'spend, spend, spend' or face looking mean or being called 'scrooge', I don't like consuming so much food, I don't like Christmas songs (not even Shakin' Stevens), I don't like the hope for snow when it means I can't ride my bike, I don't like thinking about what presents to buy nearest and dearest, I don't like shopping full stop!, I don't like Christmas movies (as shown by my desire to watch a documentary about the fight for democracy in South America on Christmas Eve) and I don't even like saying the words 'Happy Christmas'.

What do I like? I think that for me the important thing is to appreciate who we know and where we are. It is the time for reconnecting with family members if we are far away. It is the time for having a meal together without thinking about work or anything else. It is the time to switch off for a short time and relax because that is what what everyone else is doing so it is hard to do otherwise. This is what I like and why I am glad to celebrate this time off.

Flying Home

One of the things I always find amusing about flying is when the captain switches on his microphone, introduces himself with a few words in the usual relaxed manner and says something like 'sit back and enjoy the flight'.

Being able to fly is an amazing achievement but not particuarly a comfortable one and for me it is not an enjoyable experience. After getting past the multiple security points and stressing about losing something or forgetting about a possibly suspicious object in my bag, which could encourage further inspection or even interrogation, then there is the flight itself to worry about. Yesterday, the pressure on the aircraft was one problem which made my head feel as if it was close to exploding. Yawning, swallowing and holding my nose and pretending to sneeze helped a little to retrieve my diminished hearing as well as easing the pressure in my head. The constant droning of the air conditioner was another thing to moan about.

My last rant is connected to the passengers I had to share my flight with. Why do people constantly turn on their phones when they are told that it is not safe to do so? I don't know how great a risk there is that phone signals may block or interfere with communication equipment at the airport but the risk of doing so is unnecessary when all that is needed is a little bit of patience.

After landing, the scramble to get back onto land is understandable as claustrophobia reaches its peak.

On the positive side, I am happy at being able to fly as it would take probably a day to get home. Thinking about spending countless hours in a bus followed by an unstable ferry journey makes me appreciate human air endeavours and I guess I can tolerate the above discomforts for this.

Why?

The title of this entry is still echoing in my head. Why? Why such unprovoked aggression towards innocents who soon had their night ruined and not only their night?

I was with some friends going from one famous bar in Krakow "Alchemia" to another, "Eszeweria". Our spirits were high due to the alcohol flowing through our veins as well as the fit of giggles that seemed to be infectious. Two friends had come in from out of town and the rest of us had all eaten some wonderful food together. Basically, all was good.

The first sign of a disturbance came when I saw someone running. He then hit another man who was soon clutching his jaw in pain. It didn't stop there. My two friends who had come here for the weekend were soon trying to protect themselves from the aggression shown by the hooligan who had just left his mark on the other man.

Then, he proceeded to attack anther friend. I watched, shocked, and sickened as this took place before me. I was stunned, too stunned to move. Despite our greater number, the sheer anger and rage shown by the two hooligans was too much. Finally, it ended and we escaped into the bar we had been aiming for. My legs were shaking as what happened finally began to sink in. It made no sense and that was the hardest part to understand. Had it been provoked, at least there was a reason. As it was, there was just a barrage of frustration and anger that sadly had the effect of sending three friends home early and left the rest of us in another bar with feelings that cannot be described by words.

Hooked!

What is it about music that captures me sometimes in a more extreme way than others?

Like obsession, I arise from bed with one thought on my mind or return home from work with a great need which is only satisfied when the first notes of the melody ring true to me. Recently this has been caused by an album I have known for some time but which has come back to me in a very poignant manner as if in revenge for not being appreciated before. This album, is the first one by Loudon Wainright III. The track below I wanted to share is one called 'Hospital Lady' but have been unable to find it online. For this reason, the link I have placed up here a clip of the opening track on that album recorded in 2009 which shows that he is still in good voice. It is the honesty and sincerity in his voice and also the beautiful sparcity of the compositions on this album that makes it seem as if he is playing in the same room that really appeals to me.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g_8Ludnqh_c

Routine Issues

So after thinking about life a little since the last post I have decided that it is not so bad after all. Monday has come round again and with it comes to mind a word that has different meanings for me - 'routine'. Sometimes it signals boredom. Escape from it becomes desirable and I think of getting away from it as quickly as possible. Bars come to mind - both forms, one which inhibits and one which somehow offers release among social circles.

Today it is normality and it is helpful. It signals that there is a new start and a new sense of purpose. I am obliged to follow patterns but in between the spaces the opportunity is there to create something that is mine.

Mortality Issues

It's that time of year again when there is a sense of excitement as the year nears its end. An extra digit is added to the the number we currently have. The same is true for my magic number. It's hard to believe how it has grown and matured in some way. It is also interesting to see how it changes identity both internally and otherwise. For some people, the difference is minimal or doesn't exist at all. I wish this was true.

December. Normally, this is a time of reflection, a near death experience when my life flashes before me. The landing of an airplane is the nearest comparison in mind. I wait for the bump as the wheels touch down and feel the relief of my fellow passengers who usually applaud to express this, at least on the flights between Ireland and Poland.

I recount all that I have achieved, add it all up and see what it amounts to. Is it ever enough? The answer is in the restlessness that brews inside me as I feel that the book is coming to an end. You, the reader and also I, the reader have a mutual desire. There is a great need to try to make the story as interesting as possible. Why? I sometimes wish I knew the answer but right now, I am happy not to know it. Ignorance or simple acceptance is sufficient.

A Brown Paper Bag

This is an idea I had for a song some time ago and while I still like the melody of the song, I thought perhaps it could work as a poem. I brought it along to my debut of the poetry open mic event but decided against reading it and took the option of reading a poem by Kavanagh which strangely enough complemented other readings of works by Irish poets. I have made some small adjustments but the idea is pretty much the same.

A Brown Paper Bag

I can’t see myself without you being around when the blinds have gently been let down

And the sounds of the sirens outside are getting close.

You hum that distinctive rhythmic sound and take care not to heat up or burn out

And I see you as an open umbrella both inside and outside.

The lights are always on when you’re here

The party’s never losing legs and crawling back home again

And images abound to my mind and tempt me with the light of beauty

That’s seen enough to be almost real.

I can’t see myself without you being around when the time has come to gently wind down

And the beating of my skin is getting fast.

You show me another magic world and keep me up to date with every piece of it

And I see you as a black cat on the street whatever that means.

The link is not so clear to me when you are here I could be anywhere.

The time gets swallowed by the day when you are here I could be any age.

I can’t see myself without you being around when the lights are slowly going out

And the cities arteries are clearing out.

You pour yourself into a glass. I empty it dry when my throat is raw

And I see you as a brown paper bag on a rainy day.

Lost

When I look out my window, I can normally see proud Wawel Castle perched in a very stately form on top of Wawel Hill but at this moment all I can see is a thick layer of fog.
It has covered even most of the Park Inn Hotel with visibility beyond that impossible.

This type of weather fascinates me. This blanket covering us creates mysteriousness and a sense of anticipation for the unknown that can suddenly break through this misty barrier and into sight.
Walking across the bridge that usually bears the brunt of my curses is no longer such a chore but a passage into another place that I have been to numerous times but now feels like my debut visit.

Of course, I am writing this still in the comfort of my warm flat and soon I will have to venture outside and the dampness may not be so thrilling but until then I can look at it from here and ruminate on what is behind this blanket.

Travelling Lone

Morning comes with a rustle of plastic.
Whispers break intent and open sensitive eyes.
Zippers like small engines are followed by the release of light
through opened blinds which say its time to go again.

City names all soon sound the same.
Distinguishing as challenging as recording quirky traits:
a passing handshake, two kisses on cheeks, words that terrify
next to those with the power to enchant.

Carrying around a black bulk cancels attempts to sink into the passing crowd.
Paper plans, eyes do 360’s dangerously attracting the eyes of veteran tricksters.

Four wheels, 8, more. Carriages clicking through flatlands,
On through mountains past watered beauties
soon to be followed by dry hollowed out nutshells.
Faces known become strange and exchanged for new arrivals
which in turn fade out of view.

Thoughts mingle, clarity lost to confusion as refreshing as lemonade with ice.
Away from the ringing, plans can be scrapped and promises not made to be broken.
Dates are lost in satisfying ignorance.
with concerns tapered to the next Where? When? How?

What would you do if I sang out of tune?

'I get by with a little help from my friends' - a song made famous by two artists and a TV show which arouses nostalgia whenever it is brought up in conversation. One of the artists is the above but the original composers of the song are of course, The Beatles.

On Saturday I was focused on the later version of the song at RMF, next to the famous Kopiec Kosciuskzi, for the purposes of correcting a Polish singer as he attempted to emulate the fantastic performance of Mr. Joe Cocker seen above in all his glory at Woodstock. Not only had the singer to perform in front of me and the two sound engineers but also three representatives from 'Open Finance' who were using the song to advertise the bank. So for about three hours we sat and worked together to get the singer to imitate the great performance of a Beatles classic.

The major pronunciation problems for me were with 'work' and 'buddy' with the latter sounding like 'body' which may have taken away from the innocence of the song had the line been
'All I need is my body'.

In the end the singer nailed it pretty well on the head with a throat rasping Cockeresque performance. There had been an earlier suggestion that he either smoke 20 cigarettes or drink some 'spirytus' (I don't think this word needs to be translated to get the meaning) in order to get that throat wrenching effect but it turned out pretty well without the need to resort to such drastic destructive methods.

I haven't been able to get the song out of my head since. Anyway have a listen as it should be coming your way soon and let me know if you think it is a worthy cover version.

Another Year

So another increase to the millenium and another chance to start again with new aims and goals.

Personally, I always feel the beginning of the school is the beginning of the year for me as this is when everything changes. Nothing really changes in January, but in saying that I am going to use this new year to try to take an optimistic approach and not focus on giving up things but on achieving aims, most notably; raising my level of Polish, studying hard, getting fit and making something to be proud of in music and writing.

These aims have not changed from last year except perhaps the getting fit one as I sense my metabolism is beginning to slow down meaning I must speed up my activities to counter this.

Time will tell if these aims are achieved but if not ... well ... there's always next year.

Time To Be Happy?

'Tis the season to be jolly, tra, la, la, la...' and so on.

The question is why do we have to be 'jolly'?

Okay, I don't want to be all pessimistic and a party pooper but I find that when there is a lot of peer pressure on me to do something, I have a tendency to not want to do it.

Spending time with people, eating and drinking until you feel like exploding are all enjoyable and the fact that this type of debauchery is allowed at this time of the year is a bonus, but what about those who don't like listening to Christmas songs like me? There you go, I have said it and I'm not taking it back. I'm particularly worn out when it comes to 'Fairytale in New York' and even the words 'scumbag', 'faggot' and 'arse' don't excite me anymore like the way they did as a child. This is something that does not make me 'jolly' and neither does the stress involved with shopping for presents and being surrounded by hundreds of other anxious, fed up and worn out people who probably wish it was somehow easier and knowing that the prices will all be dropped as soon as the madness is over.

Why all the fuss for such a short period of time? Bah humbug. Roll on summer days.

And On It Goes...

It's embarrassing to continue reading about Ireland being such sore losers against France. Granted, it should not have been allowed and the referee was at fault in a massive way for allowing such a blatant act of cheating to stand.
It didn't stop there though and asking for the French to be noble and agree to a replay was ridiculous enough. Would we have agreed to such a request? I don't think I need to answer that.

Secondly asking for an extra place to be made for our little country was daring and also pushing thins too far. Of course if we were allocated a place, then of course another country would also have to be given a place to make the numbers even meaning that there could have been a battle on to decide which other poor country lost in the most unjust manner.

I am disappointed that I can't cheer on my country in the next World Cup and even my adopted country will not be there - probably a good thing considering that the hooligans will have no reason to kill if they lose as if they need this anyway - but I think that all of this is a farce. The performance was great and I felt that everything was given. Can we not be proud of that rather than continue clutching at straws and behaving like really sore losers when you consider that had the goal not been given it still didn't guarantee Ireland qualification at 1-1 on aggregate?

Moan For Today

Having had a problem for some time with what I consider to be my 'Black Speed Demon' - not to be mistaken with my 'Black Beauty' - I decided to try to get if fixed. The problem was with the pedal which was loose and in danger of coming off. After a lot of careful consideration I figured that the risk of becoming a road decoration was too high so I finally resolved to do something about it.

The first shop I entered was full of happy helping people who even held open the door for me as I struggled inside with my injured steel horse. Upon further inquiry I was informed that she would be restored to her former glory and ready to be ridden again in no time once for the modest cost of 110zl including a new basket as the old was was broken like an exposed blade.
'Pan mozna zostawic rower ale przyjechadz znowu w Poniedzialek' ('Sir may leave behind his bicycle or return again on Monday') I was informed because the piece I needed was not yet available but there was no need to fret their warm smiles told me and after again having the door held open for me, the day seemed so much brighter than before bringing a smile to my own face.

Cruising home in no great rush I decided to check the competition and to see if they were as charming. The door was not held open for me which was a bad start and gave them a minus rating. There were no smiles but the gruff man took the bike and got to work straight away which was something that hadn't happened earlier - interesting. I waited patiently while he worked away and, prosze bardzo - it was fixed. How much? 10zl.

I felt so happy that I also decided to buy a back light and a new basket. Riding on my wheels in her full beauty, I couldn't believe how close I had been to being ripped off until I got home and realised that after the short journey I had the same problem again. At least I have a new basket and light I suppose.

A Song

You've got the eyes to control the night
and the sense to use them well.
You feign indifference when it suits you
and can't resist the touch of my hand.

If I could get inside that head of yours
who knows just what I'd find?
There's wisdom in the posture that you choose
so are you really that wild?

At this stage you may think I am writing about my girlfriend which would be weird of you so please continue reading

If I was at your level what would I see?
And with nimble feet what would I scale?
It seems a simple day to me to spend strolling around
There's no lack of what you need but is there more to you than that?

Getting closer...?

Let it go don't make a scene I'm trying to host some company
Your tricks and moves won't work on me or anyone within this room
So close your mouth.

I'm trying hard to work all these things up against a wall
I see they're on their knees, you're on the ground rolling on the floor.




Yes it's him - Have a listen to the song "kot" on Myspace

Relationships

Being with a partner is not always easy and the two most important words necessary to remember are possibly - compromise and perspective.

Recently, after having some discussions with various acquaintances, who like me have a passion for music, I have come to the conclusion that these two words can be just as important when it comes to playing in a band. There is a big commitment in coming together with a group of people in order to share a common sound or noise, depending on your perspective. It can lead to arguments, unfaithfulness and to being stood up on occasions but, on the other hand, as one friend quite rightly put it, singing is like making love. If this is the case, sharing this with a combination of other instruments could be perceived as being an orgy.

Before I get too carried away, I want to come back to the feeling of being cheated on. This happened to me yesterday and I suspect that an affair is taking place behind my back. In fact I know that this is the case and that I am being cheated on. The guilty party even informed quite plainly that he spent last evening with his girlfriend which left me with a sour taste in my mouth which is still proving extremely difficult to wash away.

Sentiments

I have always been a sentimental person and it is something that I often feel is a burden and that to break off the restraints of this useless emotion would spur me forwards and not backwards but at what cost?

A good example of this sentimentality was on display yesterday when I was rummaging through my old CD's and I found footage of my brother and I performing to a camera about three years ago. In this short documentary which is completely overshadowed by my brother's drums, - not a bad thing considering that I look like I am playing on a child's guitar both in appearance and in sound, we both look fresh faced without the scraggles of hair we have allowed to exist on our faces. We also look innocent which is something that I don't feel qualified to comment on at this current time.

The point is that watching this I felt as if I had lost something. It is true that I am no longer the owner of the guitar but it was something else that I felt was missing and this has to be put down to the emotion that started off this rambling. A lot has changed since this session but on the whole it has changed for the better so why this feeling of lacking? It is a similar sensation I have when looking at photographs. Does it mean that I am scared of going further from what has been or does it simply mean that I am a human and there is no need to analyse it any further?

Wroclaw

Five days in the west of Poland with my parents was really nice. Wroclaw is a city I had already visited twice before but it is a place I could go back to on many occasions. It is similar to Krakow due to the fact that its main attraction is also a large market square and the beautiful architecture that surrounds it.
The city has a lot of quirky elements to it including the collection of gnomes which can be found randomly scattered around. Originally, they were used as a protest to the Communist system but now they function as a tourist hunting attraction. Another more Romantic element can be seen on Tumski Bridge where padlocks line both sides of the bridge. First of all I thought that it must be a prime area for bike thieves but upon further inspection I saw that each padlock had the names of men and women inscribed on them which brought back memories of the same quirkiness in Vilnius. Before getting married, this custom is carried out and the key is thrown into the river to symbolize the love of the couple. We were also in time to see a pumpkin festival which took place in the Botanic Gardens and showed how creative people can be with this strange vegetable.

Rather surprisingly, there are some areas not far from the tourist attractions which badly need investment and the city's hosting of the European Championships will surely see a lot of improvements taking place outside the attractive Market Square. Like every city in Poland there are the remains of Communism which can still be seen. One example can be seen above. I don't think it needs a comment.