New Year's Eve has been a bigger draw for me than Xmas for last few years. There is a sense of exciting romanticism that accompanies it, along with a feeling of universalism that few other events can really celebrate. It seems weird to me that there aren't more songs about celebrating the dawn of a new year and a symbolic fresh start for all. Those that I am aware of fail to match up to the lofty standards of the Xmas classics...
Still, there are plenty of other wonderful songs that can be listened to to ring in the New Year. As it seems to be an integral part of the New Year celebration, be it the dance mix at the party or the Jools Holland Hootenanny being watched from the sofa, I shall begin my personal review of 2011 with my top 10 tracks of the year.
Music
1. British Sea Power - Who's In Control?
2. Electric Six - French Bacon
3. Hurts - Sunday
4. The Streets - OMG
5. LMFAO - Party Rock Anthem
6. Maroon 5 feat. Christina Aguilera - Moves Like Jagger
7. Anastasia Vinnikova - I Love Belarus
8. Take That - The Flood
9. Tim McGraw & Gwyneth Paltrow - Me and Tennessee
10. Noah and the Whale - L.I.F.E.G.O.E.S.O.N
For yet another year I feel as though I have fallen away from my indie roots. Most of my experience of new music this year came from exposure to MOR radio in the form of Radio 2 and Bright FM at work. I don't think that it has been a very good year for music. Over Xmas I watched both the 2011 TOTP round-up and the 2009 edition, and 2009's 'highlights' were leagues ahead of this year. 2011 has also seen releases by some of my favourite bands (Art Brut and Radiohead most notably) that were very disappointing and remain unpurchased. Fortunately my two top dogs, BSP and E6 remained as reliable as ever. That's as pop-orientated a top 10 single tracks I've probably ever had to be honest, though also probably one of the most positive sounding ones (barring Hurts).
Film
1. Super 8
2. Black Swan
3. Attack the Block
4. Senna
5. Hobo With A Shotgun
I've not seen that many new films this year to be honest, being quite lax at making it out for the new releases. I could probably make a longer list of films I wanted to see but never got around to (I'll watch you one day, Tree of Life!) The top three films were all visually arresting and emotionally engaging, as was my biggest disappointment of the year, Drive. The difference here is that these three all managed to maintain a captivating narrative where Drive rambled onwards into ridiculous, incoherent, over-stylised irrelevance. Honourable mentions for Melancholia, one of the most powerful art-pieces I've seen in the cinema, and Moonbug, an invigorating documentary on a photographer's pursuit of astronauts.
Gigs
1. Amanda Palmer @ Concorde2
2. Final Fantasy: Distant Worlds @ Royal Albert Hall
3. British Sea Power @ Concorde2
I have played in a fair few gigs this year, as well as customarily attending a great deal. 2011 saw the live debut of the Red Diamond Dragon Club, performing several gigs with fluctuating success. It also saw the return of the Sneaky Frog and the Scoundrel and SmoothGay to the live arena. It was a shame not to be able to play more gigs, but such are the constraints that academia, geography and employment present. Hopefully 2012 will see some improvement there. I would recommend seeing Amanda Palmer live to anyone. She is one of the best pure entertainers I have had the pleasure of seeing. Everything she does conveys an enjoyment of her work and it is infectious. Lots to be learnt from that lady.
Books
I don't really keep up to date with books being released, and I didn't really do too much reading outside of uni texts. The best thing I read this year though, and now one of my favourite books ever, would have to be Dracula. The different narrative styles draw you into the world so completely, and the epistollary style gives the tale such dramatic and tense pacing. It is almost a complete masterpiece (the ending could be more exciting and drawn out I feel) and has certainly inspired the direction I would like to go with my astronaut pieces. Other interesting reads have been Linh Dinh's American Tatts, a collection of accessible but varied contemporary poetry, and Zamyatin's We, the novel that inspired 1984.
Achievements
It would be easy to go off on an angsty rant about the bad things that happened in 2011. Far better and more interesting to look at the things that went successfully. First year of part MA complete, boom. First performance with bands and as performance poet complete, boom. First league trophies for FC Kierkegaard in 5-a-side, boom. Formation of the 11-a-side team, Kemp Town FC, boom. Traversing of the West Highland Way and Great Glen Way, boom. First journey outside of Europe, boom. These are the things that stick in my mind when I look back at the good things that happened this past year. Without a doubt there was bad and unfortunate shizzle that took place this year but at the end of the day it's the good things that usually last. Yeah. Postivity an' shit.
New Year's Resolutions
- write more, try and do something creative at least once a day an' shit
- take more photos, events should be documented more thoroughly an' shit
- keep a more comprehensive record of books and films read and watched an' shit
- be brave an' shit
- maintain correspondances an' shit
- review a cooked veggie breakfast once a week
That's probably enough to be getting on with. It's all about being active an' shit.
Happy New Year!
"Oh, friend John, it is a strange world, a sad world, a world full of miseries, and woes, and troubles. And yet when King Laugh come, he make them all dance to the tune he play."
Saturday 31 December 2011
Dream Diary
Well gosh darn haven't I been slack at posting on here this month. Ahead of my review of 2011, I would like to present a week-long dream diary I managed to somehow keep a month or so ago. It was a challenge forcing myself to get writing at 6am each morning, but the way the dreams revealed themselves through writing was an exciting experience and one that I would recommend other people try and seek out. Please be aware that I'm not the most cogent writer and such ungodly hours.
Friday 18th November
There was an all-night film event. At a bar with a group of people (Neville's birthday crowd). Having dinner, sitting opposite Hopkinson, she keeps leaving for periods of time and then returning. On way out (closing time) we are all leaving and a tall androgynous woman with slick moustache walks past. Both her and Hopkinson are dressed as 1920s private eyes. Recognising this, Hopkinson says something like a film line about parting lovers, they pretend to go to kiss before the androgyne attempts to go for the real thing. I look away, not wishing to see if its reciprocated and appear saddened in front of everyone. THEN I am in a cornershop, dressed messily, holding a plastic axe. Walsh and McEvoy enter and talk about the films they saw. Zombie invasions are discussed. THEN I am playing football away from the crowd on a hillside, with Huzar and Hertogs (jumpers for goalposts). Using the goal from the other side are an overweight Mr. Brooks plus another. Me and Huzar chat whilst passing and scoring. Mr. Brooks is unhappy about having to retrieve the ball if it comes through to our side too far.
(There were definitely other factors but by the time I'd got this book I'd forgotten them)
Monday 21st November
The first part involved an 11-a-side game against Coach House. We owned them in the 1st half, changed things about in the 2nd but were still pwning but less so (Bidwell was playing for us). We went off for a team talk in the changing rooms and I had a shepherd's crook. Then next bit I remember was parachuting after attempting some rock-climbing as Luther Vandross. I fell off so parachuted down into a field near some rich houses in Scotland. Once in field I struggled to find a way out (in a valley you see) so snuck around inside the houses (almost spied on a woman in a bath) before finding a road with heavy congestion, making it difficult to follow. Suddenly Kelly was there. We ended up going inside a mansion. It suddenly hits me that this is all in America now, and there was an earlier bit to the dream pre-football that was a dinner party at Clifford's house. She was having a relationship with another woman. There were nibbles. Back to the mansion. It was difficult to navigate through the mansion which was labyrinthine, and many were trying to find the set path. There were even bits of pipe suspended over sewage water that needed traversing. Walsh (now there) appeared and stripped to Speedos before jumping in to search for a lever. It was just like the canal, he said. I find my way into a furnished room with sofa and bookshelf. I sit on the sofa with Kelly and look at some Top Trumps sets on the bookshelf. The editions are comics and great American novels (including Ralph Waldo Emerson). Then Han Ho Lam and Agrawal join us. Then some girls come, offering tequila slammers. The others accept but I just ask for the two slices of lemon. Girls sit on Kelly and Agrawal's laps and more are going to come, they say. THEN I am in my bed at 7B Wentworth Street, 2.30am-ish, post-party. My phone is out of battery so I can't call my parents. I hear Hertogs enter, drunk, and although B.Huzar and Neville try to tell him to be quiet he says in an Admiral Ackbar voice that people shouldn't be in bed at this hour.
Tuesday 22nd November - fragments
- I told Kemp Town FC KO for a match in Worthing was 3pm instead of 1pm. Trevor called up, angry
- started going out with Lowe again
- went to Han Ho Lam's house; saw Han Ho Lam and his housemate in an armchair, then Han Ho Lam, someone and Burke on a sofa
- went on a bus, was standing near the back, someone was about to get off so I was readying myself to take their seat
Sunday 20th November - retrospect
In large house with wooden flooring. In my large wooden bedroom. Newman is visiting. Hopkinson knocks on the door; she is merry and has two puppets in the style of Bubbaloo Birds. We chat awhile, all the time I want Newman to go - eventually she does.
Wednesday 23rd November
I am a prefect at Ash Manor. I got to leave early and so set off on a bus to the nearest bus stop so I can catch an earlier bus home. I overshoot and have to walk back from Tongham. Lots of people are at the bus stop now, including B. Huzar. After witnessing some mini-Lemon vans going, a B&H City bus comes. At the bus stop we play a game on a PS w/ TV which is like Resident Evil meets Snake Eater. T. Huzar and Woodhouse are very discussive about it. Woodhouse has forgotten all the patterns in it he used to know. There is one bit with a zombie leech thing that attaches itself to your head, another bit with a naked woman negotiating a trap-filled swamp. Suddenly we're in a haunted house pursuing ghosts for a while (in the style of a video game). The main one is the Captain who keeps teleporting. We almost find him. Standing in a corner with my friends I pretend to get scared and drop my rapier which rolls and falls into a downstairs room. Voices call up saying, "what's going on?" Downstairs is an untidy flat containing Wilkinson and Carrick in pyjamas asleep/reading. They invite us down for tea.
Thursday 24th November
Huzar wants to get a bottle of Courvoisier at the Duke of York's but fortunately I can get money off. Harrison is pleased. Fournier points out that it is half-price with electronic purchases/student discount.
Friday 25th November
Starts off with some form of time-travelling bit ? set in Scotland. We are in the past in a very nice house, belonging to Silver and Combes (I think). We must travel to the house in the present (can't remember why) so we do, which is a much smaller flat (still nice) in an iffy area in Glasgow. We make it there and then come morning we must travel to the train station so King must lead me and anonymous person out of a block of flats that has most of its exits cut off. We eventually get out and take a short walk across town (now Edinburgh) in order to get towards station. I get discombobulated, thinking we're at one end of Park Gardens (a street) when we're at the other. THEN we're playing football. There may have been some 5-a-side. We are preparing for 11-a-side cup game against we discover to be Ferguson's! I jokingly attempt a Cruyff turn to get past Kavanagh which fails. THEN in a house preparing for a gig. Mr. and Mrs. Huzar are present. We are practicing for a gig downstairs in a courtyard. Something happens which leads to a traditional smoking of cigars, but as me and Huzar are having to sleep in that room later I tell everyone to stop. We are practicing. D. Hertogs discusses with L. Hertogs and others essential foods we need for lunch - cheese, tomatoes, bread etc. I distribute information about the strike out the window whilst Huzar plays in another band down below. Millar notices me do this (I also think I throw out a gummy lizard thing of great relevance which I've forgotten now). I also attempt to throw some strike literature into Combes' next door neighbours but it got stuck in the gutter. Combes shows me a trophy she's won for teaching. Me, Huzar, Spottiswoode and Sykes practice jamming, improvising lyrics. Huzar improvises first. Then it is my turn, about to start but then Hopkinson comes in and commandeers the snare drum and mic. She has a new (!) tattoo on her forearm; a childish drawing of herself wearing a hoodie with her first name written on it. She says that the drawing is wearing my hoodie. My hoodie is green though, whereas this one is pink. It turns out that she is colour-blind.
I think I will endeavour to get back to recording dreams in the new year. I may need to make my bedroom warmer though, as presently the main struggle is the battle against the cold.
Friday 18th November
There was an all-night film event. At a bar with a group of people (Neville's birthday crowd). Having dinner, sitting opposite Hopkinson, she keeps leaving for periods of time and then returning. On way out (closing time) we are all leaving and a tall androgynous woman with slick moustache walks past. Both her and Hopkinson are dressed as 1920s private eyes. Recognising this, Hopkinson says something like a film line about parting lovers, they pretend to go to kiss before the androgyne attempts to go for the real thing. I look away, not wishing to see if its reciprocated and appear saddened in front of everyone. THEN I am in a cornershop, dressed messily, holding a plastic axe. Walsh and McEvoy enter and talk about the films they saw. Zombie invasions are discussed. THEN I am playing football away from the crowd on a hillside, with Huzar and Hertogs (jumpers for goalposts). Using the goal from the other side are an overweight Mr. Brooks plus another. Me and Huzar chat whilst passing and scoring. Mr. Brooks is unhappy about having to retrieve the ball if it comes through to our side too far.
(There were definitely other factors but by the time I'd got this book I'd forgotten them)
Monday 21st November
The first part involved an 11-a-side game against Coach House. We owned them in the 1st half, changed things about in the 2nd but were still pwning but less so (Bidwell was playing for us). We went off for a team talk in the changing rooms and I had a shepherd's crook. Then next bit I remember was parachuting after attempting some rock-climbing as Luther Vandross. I fell off so parachuted down into a field near some rich houses in Scotland. Once in field I struggled to find a way out (in a valley you see) so snuck around inside the houses (almost spied on a woman in a bath) before finding a road with heavy congestion, making it difficult to follow. Suddenly Kelly was there. We ended up going inside a mansion. It suddenly hits me that this is all in America now, and there was an earlier bit to the dream pre-football that was a dinner party at Clifford's house. She was having a relationship with another woman. There were nibbles. Back to the mansion. It was difficult to navigate through the mansion which was labyrinthine, and many were trying to find the set path. There were even bits of pipe suspended over sewage water that needed traversing. Walsh (now there) appeared and stripped to Speedos before jumping in to search for a lever. It was just like the canal, he said. I find my way into a furnished room with sofa and bookshelf. I sit on the sofa with Kelly and look at some Top Trumps sets on the bookshelf. The editions are comics and great American novels (including Ralph Waldo Emerson). Then Han Ho Lam and Agrawal join us. Then some girls come, offering tequila slammers. The others accept but I just ask for the two slices of lemon. Girls sit on Kelly and Agrawal's laps and more are going to come, they say. THEN I am in my bed at 7B Wentworth Street, 2.30am-ish, post-party. My phone is out of battery so I can't call my parents. I hear Hertogs enter, drunk, and although B.Huzar and Neville try to tell him to be quiet he says in an Admiral Ackbar voice that people shouldn't be in bed at this hour.
Tuesday 22nd November - fragments
- I told Kemp Town FC KO for a match in Worthing was 3pm instead of 1pm. Trevor called up, angry
- started going out with Lowe again
- went to Han Ho Lam's house; saw Han Ho Lam and his housemate in an armchair, then Han Ho Lam, someone and Burke on a sofa
- went on a bus, was standing near the back, someone was about to get off so I was readying myself to take their seat
Sunday 20th November - retrospect
In large house with wooden flooring. In my large wooden bedroom. Newman is visiting. Hopkinson knocks on the door; she is merry and has two puppets in the style of Bubbaloo Birds. We chat awhile, all the time I want Newman to go - eventually she does.
Wednesday 23rd November
I am a prefect at Ash Manor. I got to leave early and so set off on a bus to the nearest bus stop so I can catch an earlier bus home. I overshoot and have to walk back from Tongham. Lots of people are at the bus stop now, including B. Huzar. After witnessing some mini-Lemon vans going, a B&H City bus comes. At the bus stop we play a game on a PS w/ TV which is like Resident Evil meets Snake Eater. T. Huzar and Woodhouse are very discussive about it. Woodhouse has forgotten all the patterns in it he used to know. There is one bit with a zombie leech thing that attaches itself to your head, another bit with a naked woman negotiating a trap-filled swamp. Suddenly we're in a haunted house pursuing ghosts for a while (in the style of a video game). The main one is the Captain who keeps teleporting. We almost find him. Standing in a corner with my friends I pretend to get scared and drop my rapier which rolls and falls into a downstairs room. Voices call up saying, "what's going on?" Downstairs is an untidy flat containing Wilkinson and Carrick in pyjamas asleep/reading. They invite us down for tea.
Thursday 24th November
Huzar wants to get a bottle of Courvoisier at the Duke of York's but fortunately I can get money off. Harrison is pleased. Fournier points out that it is half-price with electronic purchases/student discount.
Friday 25th November
Starts off with some form of time-travelling bit ? set in Scotland. We are in the past in a very nice house, belonging to Silver and Combes (I think). We must travel to the house in the present (can't remember why) so we do, which is a much smaller flat (still nice) in an iffy area in Glasgow. We make it there and then come morning we must travel to the train station so King must lead me and anonymous person out of a block of flats that has most of its exits cut off. We eventually get out and take a short walk across town (now Edinburgh) in order to get towards station. I get discombobulated, thinking we're at one end of Park Gardens (a street) when we're at the other. THEN we're playing football. There may have been some 5-a-side. We are preparing for 11-a-side cup game against we discover to be Ferguson's! I jokingly attempt a Cruyff turn to get past Kavanagh which fails. THEN in a house preparing for a gig. Mr. and Mrs. Huzar are present. We are practicing for a gig downstairs in a courtyard. Something happens which leads to a traditional smoking of cigars, but as me and Huzar are having to sleep in that room later I tell everyone to stop. We are practicing. D. Hertogs discusses with L. Hertogs and others essential foods we need for lunch - cheese, tomatoes, bread etc. I distribute information about the strike out the window whilst Huzar plays in another band down below. Millar notices me do this (I also think I throw out a gummy lizard thing of great relevance which I've forgotten now). I also attempt to throw some strike literature into Combes' next door neighbours but it got stuck in the gutter. Combes shows me a trophy she's won for teaching. Me, Huzar, Spottiswoode and Sykes practice jamming, improvising lyrics. Huzar improvises first. Then it is my turn, about to start but then Hopkinson comes in and commandeers the snare drum and mic. She has a new (!) tattoo on her forearm; a childish drawing of herself wearing a hoodie with her first name written on it. She says that the drawing is wearing my hoodie. My hoodie is green though, whereas this one is pink. It turns out that she is colour-blind.
I think I will endeavour to get back to recording dreams in the new year. I may need to make my bedroom warmer though, as presently the main struggle is the battle against the cold.
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