so that it wouldn’t be Untitled 131

Again I roll out of bed at … oh, goodness … 11 o’clock.

Bah.

I manage to do guitar and vocals for River Rise and put a guitar on Mystery Dog. If that one turns out to have lyrics, I’ll be interested to see how they go, as I only put that title there so that it wouldn’t be Untitled 131.

I decide that I’m going go out and do exercise (dammit). As I mention this to H, I turn and put my shoulder out, so no exercise.

As H is cooking dinner, I walk up to Sainsbury, listening to the rough mixes, and buy muesli, yoghurt and too many cakes.

Home, shower, dinner and then programmes about Tony Hancock.

Monthly toast.

possibly an accordian

I woke up very late and very groggy after hardly sleeping. There is some discussion and somehow I end up making pancakes. This is good. Even better, H gets Gnutella. Hooray: a pretext for eating chocolate for breakfast.

When H goes out for a walk, I spend the day recording guitar form 100 Horses and vocals for that and Unison and cleaning them up/mixing them. 100 Horses at least needs something else, possibly an accordian.

Also archiving / backing up and planning my next step, recording-wise.

Later I go out and get (in this order) Money, wine and fish & chips. While I’m out I listen to the newly-extended New Album on my iPod. On returning to the flat we consume the fish & chips and the wine, while watching various Stephen Fry vehicles on Dave. Later I watch the last half of The Silence of the Lambs What an extraordinary film it still is.

It’s such a rare thing to see outside of issues of The Beano.

I oversleep in the morning again, darn it, and get in to Walker at the usual time. That is to say, late. Long chat to Denise on the way. Wandering along with a phone connected to one’s ear is actually a lot more satisfying than I thought.

I pass a banana skin on the pavement, but don’t slip on it. It’s such a rare thing to see outside of issues of The Beano.

There’s a chap who carries a briefcase and walks between St George’s Road and the Embankment, constantly talking to himself. I presume that he does it all day, as I pass him on the way to and from.

The usual Maisying at Walker’s.

In the evening plug in the keyboard and make random noises. Well, not quite random, perhaps, but nothing of lasting interest.

the quality of the absence of sound not coming through the telephone

6:something – Crawl out of bed. Eat stuff. Haru leaves. I lie down.

Before I can set off for Walker someone calls up and asks if I can do a small job for them and asks me to quote a price. I quote a price, and can tell by the quality of the absence of sound not coming through the telephone to me that I asked for too much. This doesn’t often happen. I backpedal desperately, and am able to turn the job around before leaving for Walker.

Arrive at Walker. Maisying, or not quite Maisying but similar.

I don’t have lunch, having neither cash, nor a lunch token, nor a booking for lunch (which they’re rather particular about these days) nor the inclination to do anything but lie on the floor. So I lie on the floor.

For the second time today, I oversleep.

More of the same.

After work, I go to the Samye Dzong for the sitting, which will cease at this venue at the weekend. Before the sitting begins, the lay person conducting it cracks a joke, which I find a bit off, but then he’s a regular, and in charge of the remote control for the lights as well as lighting the candles and incense, so I suppose he out ranks me and my solemnity.

Not such a successful sitting, except that I do actually sit there for an hour, which is the point, perhaps.

Home, with snapshot-ish distractions. At home eat Mediterranean Stew and cheese sandwiches. Watch an old episode of The Goodies, the rest of the Peter Serafinowicz shows and a documentary about Prince from 1991, before he went off the rails somewhat.

the probable cupboard

6:00 – Up, somehow. Sit. Breakfast. H goes out. I manage yoga and other preparatories. Just as I’m checking my phone prior to leaving, I discover that there’s a message telling me not to.

I check the availability of various electronic-musical goods. One not available at all, two readily available. Given that having them delivered to an address other than this is tricky, I blag a lift to Clapham.

Digital Village isn’t really a shop, and as I walk in I feel that I’m somehow intruding, and the chap who serves me, though pleasant, is slightly bewildered to be selling something, I think.

At the next desk, someone fields questions from a customer, then calls up a distributor and asks them the questions, then calls the customer back and and repeats the answers. I’m not sure of the point of retail.

I leave with a USB keyboard and a mic pre-amp, which will help in the recording I’m not quite getting around to at the moment.

Spend the afternoon playing with the keyboard. Technology has developed to the extent that one can while away happy hours listening to the presets without actually doing anything of consequence. I also eat more sandwiches than I’d thing to be a good idea and watch some of the latter episodes of The War Games, Patrick Troughton’s swan song as The Doctor and the first time the Time Lords are introduced. I vaguely remember this from 1969, and am surprised that my vague memories are fairly accurate. People going from place to place are travelling by TARDIS. Or SIDRAT. Or something.

Check with Ben and H to find out if they want to see Hellboy 2 tonight, and they do.

I meet Haru at Waterloo Station at 17:45 and we walk up to the National Gallery which is shut (we’d thought it open, and had arranged to meet Ben in front of the Ucello St George). I try calling Ben and instead get through to a glum-sounding Glaswegian. Um.

Meet Ben, and we decide to go to the Cinema-ish cinema on Shaftesbury Avenue rather than the probable cupboard in the multiplex.

Dinner at Stockpot, which is rather pleasant, then Ben buys books from Foyles, and nobody buys anything from Fopp.

Go to the Cinema, watch too many ads, a few trailers and the film, which is magnificent. It’s a shame B del T is off to New Zealand for a very long time on Hobbit duty, as I’d like to see what he’d do with Hellboy 3. More importantly I don’t want to find out what anyone else would do with it.

As we arrive at the bus stop a 176 arrives, which is a sign. And the driver drops us off at a convenient stop (which he doesn’t have to, as he’s on a detour).

Home. Watch the last bit of the last episode of The War Games.

But that was a long time ago.

Bank holiday monday. August bank holiday monday.

If The Great Escape was on, I missed it.

We did go out for a long walk, after having pizza and guinness at a relatively upmarket place, that was up until recently a different relatively upmarket place and before that a raggedy and eccentric pub. But that was a long time ago.

walk down to Kennington, then the Oval, then up to Vauxhall via Bonnington Square, back along the river, show H the old Royal Doulton building, then home.

Nothing much in the evening. Sandwiches. Peter Serafinowicz. Tony Hancock at the Royal Festival Hall. On video.

In the middle of the long weekend…

In the middle of the long weekend…

Supermarket, and a bunch of sleeping – I lie down for five minutes at four o’clock and get up at six. Some JGB work and, after dinner, trying to get tracks down for 100 Horses, without really committing myself to anything.

So not desperately healthy, but very nice.

Up at 6:40 – slept very poorly – and breakfast and see H off. However, I spend most of the day asleep, despite the fact that I noted down several things I’d have liked to do .

Anyway, I do none of them. So.

H gets home and I cook dinner – steak with onions and chips and I get a lot of beer and some chips. So not desperately healthy, but very nice.

Bunch of TV.

The difference between dissonance and noise

So, up just after six, sit, breakfast, see H off, prepare, shower, and actually get to Walker at about 10:20, which is a significant improvement. Sad, that.

Maisying. Fixing something from a long time ago – a year, maybe. And a file-from-hell, too. And doing something that’s supposed to be the right size, but at 94% of the size of the file. That sort of thing. Go very slowly.

Lunch. Lie on floor.

Back to the Maisying.

Go for walk with Ben – he wants to see the exhibition at the Hayward. I beg off the exhibition, but go for a coffee with him. It seems like the whole South Bank Centre has essentially been turned into a bar. The difference between dissonance and noise: chaos. I should have remembered that the presence of noise (extraneous sound) is the sign of a waste of energy.

Walk home, taking snaps as I go. None of the cash dispensers at Waterloo Station are working, so I walk via Westminster Bridge Road. Get home, then go out and get sausage and chips.

Um. That’s it, really, for the evening.

a street of the same name in Croydon

6:03 – Up. Sit. Breakfast. Etc.

Somehow, despite my best intentions, I get in to Walker at the same time as usual (i.e. later than I want to). I don’t know where that hour went.

Maisying, then lunch, then lying on the floor, then Maisying. A package is delivered, containing corrections that I didn’t know were coming to me.

During the day I listen to the mixes I made last night. Pure needs to be remixed, and certainly needs to be louder, and the strings need to be fiddled with. Generally I’m impressed, though, and want to get more done.

Get back at 19:00, have dinner and go out to get some chocolate. A couple stop me and ask directions to a hotel. They show me the address, which is a street of the same name in Croydon. I tell them they’ll need London Bridge station (that’s true, isn’t it?). Poor things. I print out a map of where they need to get to, but they’ve gone by the time I get downstairs again.

I do the corrections, or at least try to (although I’ve not really been briefed on them), then plug in the keyboard and do some Logic playing around.