We live in very shallow times, and the emptiness of the political and social discourse at the moment, entirely deprived of any depth, idea, imagination or creativity, genuinely depress me.
I am currently working on my third novel The Right Place, and have stocked up on nature writing volumes, thinking that they would be the best inspiration for me, as I want The Right Place to be some kind of a rural noir story set in Dorset. To my surprise though, in between a few pages of tales of exploration of wild places, I have found myself reading some Oscar Wilde - I am the happy owner of a fab volume of Wilde's Plays, prose and poems. And right now, I am re-reading The Portrait of Dorian Gray, elements of which had already found their way in my second novel, The Book of Thoth.
Wilde's writing is incredibly modern, and his understanding of human nature devastatingly accurate. It is my opinion that he should be studied by secondary school pupils, whose awareness of the human condition nears zero.
Of course, Wilde is eminently quotable, but two days ago, I was struck by the following passage, which basically sums up my philosophy in life.
Right, time to get ready for tomorrow's Bridport Vintage Market - it's going to be a cracker! You can see Arcane Publishing's stock for this event HERE.
Of course, there was no money to be earned as a music journalist and I was paid in free CDs and entry to gigs...
Since I stopped writing about music to concentrate on my own creative efforts, things have changed rather a lot: venues are closing, alternative cultures have all but disappeared and London is now too expensive, bland, corporate and artificial.
I left London and the South East over two years ago and am comforted in the fact that I have made the right decision each and every time I return to the city: it's now nightmarishly over-overcrowded and seems to have been taken over by shiny people whose only hobbies are food an drooling over their mobile phones.
But I will always remain a music fan. True, I miss going to gigs whenever I want to. True, the music scene down in Dorset is not exactly edgy. But we didn't come here for the music, did we?
So the gig yesterday at one of our old stomping grounds, The Electrowerkz, was a special treat, even though it involved 6 hours stuck in traffic several times in 28 degree celsius (whose idea was it to wear a vintage dress with long-ish sleeves, eh?).
We were treated to three excellent bands (apologies for the bad quality of pictures, our little camera doesn't cope well with low light and movement...):
newcomers Randolph and Mortimer (from Sheffield, much like another of my favourites, The Mighty Sieben) gave us a brilliant instrumental set full of influences. The perfect warm-up for what was to come!
I always listen to quite a lot of Cubanate as it is the perfect soundtrack to an exercise session (it makes you lift those weights!). Contrary to Matt ArtPix (whose blog about the gig you can find HERE), I had never seen Cubanate live, and I was really impressed by the high-energy set and Marc Heal's intense presence (although he moved so much that I just couldn't get a good photo! :-( ).
Now, finally seeing PIG live was quite something. Frontman Raymond Watts and guitarist and En Esch are both true legends of the industrial scene, having played in bands and worked in music since the 80s. The stage looked too small for them, and small room seemed to struggle to contain all that energy! Someone books them again in a larger venue, please!
Watts' stage persona is fabulous, dramatic and pitch perfect - and that voice! What a performer!
As I enter yet another very busy period with the day job(s), it will be a while until I post again on here...
So it's going to be yet another intermission before I return to the novel...
I think therefore I write.
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