Tuesday 27th of February, 2001
I find that some ill-thought out sarcasm I wrote about Columbo on a message-board has engendered a spout of vitriolic abuse. I read the vitriolic abuse: the vitriolic abuser is quite right. I deserve every bit of it. I spend too long writing a retraction of what I said earlier and a lengthy meditation on Columbo which is a much more interesting programme than I thought it was. I have believed since I was eight or so that it was a failed whodunnit, and haven't thought to reassess my opinion. It is, rather, an anti-whodunnit. So far there has been no reply to this post, but at least it's merely pretentious and not pointlessly abusive.
I call a Denise on her mobile for some advice. It turns out that she is in a bar in Spain. Leave the advice until she returns.
In the face of Looming Penury, I make an Extravagant Sacrificial Purchase.
I find the telephone numbers for possible cheap flights for Dave H. to go to Jerez.
Some (rather fruitful) metronome practise - I'm trying to apply the principles of the Primary exercises to my classical playing. Whether this is a good idea or not, I'm not sure but it is interesting. Trying to get my fingers used to an i-m-a-m-i-(etc) roll, rather than just i-m-i-m or i-m-a-i-m-a. Not sure why, but it seems right.
Make vast quantity of spicy bean soup. Very nice soup, but why can't one just make soup in small quantities? Have two bowls of it. Freeze the rest. At some point I'll have to defrost it and then I'll have a lake of soup on my hands. Perhaps I should invite people over for an Eat My Lake of Soup Evening.
Eat My Lake of Soup sounds like some inept translation of an Eastern European euphemism for... well, I'll leave that up to your imagination.
To the 12 Bar to see Yuka playing her second and last UK gig. They've finally almost finished the refurbishment. Now the bar is twice the size of the venue. The venue iself is untouched. This is not a problem.
Joe Quillin turns up (he knows one of the two percussing Steves in the band), which is nice.
She is described on the flyer as "Japanese Torch-Song Minimalism", which is the most perfect description I have ever seen on a flyer for anybody. The whole Yuka Yakamoto band barely fit on the stage, and use more microphones and stools than they bargained for.
The band are fine - I'm trying to lap up my last opportunity to see Yuka play for a while. I think they are distracted by the fact that the people upstairs - two feet from their faces - are carrying on conversations at above PA volumes. One of the drawbacks of the 12 Bar, I'm afraid.
I love her song Arcadian and am planning what I'm going to do with the version I recorded on Saturday. They went as a band into the Praying for the Rain studio and recorded six tracks, which I'm glad of.
Play The Draughtsman's Contract while I'm drinking my cocoa and writing this. For some odd reason they've switched what was the first tracks on sides one and two. I still think it's remarkable stuff, Nyman's best. Strange behaviour - warping or stretching or something - on what must be the master tape on the last track. Never noticed it before. I must CDify the eponymous first album, which includes The Masterwork and In Re Don Giovanni, see how that measures up. Presumably, as soon as I do, they'll remaster and rerelease i as they've been threatening to do for over fifteen years. It is extraordinary that it's not been rereleased, though, since it's packed with goodies. Assuming one likes Nyman.
Very late to bed again.