Kindness

There's nothing quite like the kindness of strangers or near strangers to warm one's heart. It always inspires such hope; hope that, despite all the shit we see and hear all around us, this world of ours will be alright after all. A reaffirmation of the basic goodness of my fellow creatures.

I've been on the receiving end of such random acts of kindness so many times in my life that I almost feel guilty. It can't be fair for one person to be so fortunate.

There was the classmate back in college who hardly knew me but noticed I wasn't well on a trip to Shimla and made sure I got back to the bus safe and sound. The driver from the other side of the freeway who saw me lose control of my car and go flying into the snow filled median and came to my rescue despite, I'm sure, having somewhere to be. The nice gentleman who saw me struggling to change out a flat tire and came and helped and vanished back without so much as waiting for a thank you. And many, many others.

These last 10 days I've experienced even more such kindness as I've been travelling in a far off region as a solo female backpacker. And that too one without much of a grasp of Hindi, which, as it turns out, it is absolutely essential to know to survive anywhere in India outside my own home state. Special thanks to D and her husband for watching out for me in N Sikkim and for the use of that hot shower (I know this isn't the book I promised you but someday maybe).

Not sure if this counts but my best friend's best friend has shown me such kindness and care and concern and consideration that I almost wish I had an older brother. Perhaps I should have tied you a rakhi as well when I came to your house that time, R. That hair toussle I shall treasure always. Now I know how Arya felt. I had such a wonderful time these last few days in no small part thanks to you.

The immediate push for this post came from a really kind soul who not only took the trouble to intervene on my behalf with the train guys on this Saraighat express to attempt to get me my dinner or my money back, but also when she found out that I had nothing to eat, offered me roshogollas that her mom made for her. Tastiest ones I've ever eaten and sweetened by more than just sugar. Thank you, D!

I want to believe

If travel is searching
And home what's been found
I'm not stopping
I'm going hunting
I'm the hunter

Heard these words last night whilst trying to find the right music to lull me to sleep. The opening lines to Hunter by Bjork. I've listened to the album and this particular song countless times but never really paid attention to the lyrics all that much. It was striking to hear this on the eve of my departure on my first (of hopefully many) travel adventures at home.

Coincidences abound this past week. And this just continued that trend. What does it all mean? Is it all some cosmic conspiracy trying to point me in a certain direction? Or the overactive imagination of a sleep deprived excitable mind?

The Scully in me thinks it's the latter. But the Mulder wants to believe.

P.S.: Forgot that the very next song on the album starts off with the lines

All these accidents
That happen
Follow the dots
Coincidence makes sense
Only with you

Spooky!

Japan

The promised sequel..

I wrote this while I was literally on the road. Meant to publish it as soon as I could find time and internet to add some media to provide context, but couldn't find the two together until just now.

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Hiroshima to Fukayama - the gorgeous gorgeous expressway to the tune of Seadrum by Boredoms - the perfect marriage of sight and sound. Ah, bliss. I fucking love you Japan!

The swells of the song are so perfectly matched to what I'm seeing that it almost makes me wonder if it was written whilst the members of Boredoms were driving through this very route. Perhaps in a bus much like this one. Such a dear thought.

It's no wonder this country has produced some of the most amazingly creative minds. How can one live here and not be inspired! So wish I didn't have to leave here so soon.

When I came on this trip I thought it was probably my one and only chance to see Japan. But now I'm almost definitely coming back for another visit. Or three.  Heck I'd live here forever if I could. Now there's an idea...

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A Belated Rant

I wrote this a little while ago (while I was on a plane iirc) and never got around to publishing it. 

-----

I've never been able to act my age. As a child I was too grown-up, too serious. My mom's main impression of me as a child is how I hardly ever laughed. I distinctly remember my uncle once asking me what I keep thinking about so intently. I think I was about 10 or 11 at the time.

As the years passed I started growing down, rather than up, as my best friend used to put it (with regards to herself not me). I can be quite silly these days. Be ridiculous and random and laugh, laugh and laugh. Not in public, mind. Just with a select few. But with those chosen few I can be positively nutty.

I'm writing all this now because right at this moment I feel quite the opposite of all that. I feel drained of all joy. For no reason in particular. Nothing bad has happened to me. Unless forced socialization over a fairly long period of time counts as a bad thing. I need to crawl back into my shell and lie low for a while. To recharge. Sadly I've put myself in a position where this isn't immediately possible.  I need to take a break. Alone.

Is solitude even possible in this bustling nation of mine? I'm actually on my way to another country atm on a short trip. Not alone though. Quite the opposite of alone. I'm part of a tour group. Ugh. Kill me now. 

------

This turned out to be a self-fulfilling prophesy in some ways. In others...well, I'll publish the sequel, also written some time ago.. However, I'm quite determined that my first ever experience of a packaged tour shall remain my last as well.

The Road Not Taken

Spooky coincidence decreed that I should hear this particular poem in Robert Frost's own voice yesterday -- hear it just as I find myself at a fork in my own life.

Initiative is the one thing none can accuse me of. A drifter if there ever was one. Nearly every major turn in my life happened by, well happenstance. I choose by inaction. I'm doing the same now, more or less. Will it turn out to be the road less traveled by? Probably not. But I want it to be. Why? Because I want to be special. Because I want something different. Because..

Naanum veezhven endru ninaithayo?

You know what, it doesn't even matter. The road will be interesting because if it isn't, I will find a way to make it so. Yes, I will.



(How did I get from Frost to Bharathi to fucking Linkin Park?!)

My superpower, my bane

It has been brought to my attention, not for the first time and quite possibly not the last either, that my superpower bothers people. My superpower, you see, is faultfinding. I have an uncanny ability to spot mistakes. This, in itself, would probably not annoy anyone. But in my zeal to help straighten out someone else's work, I seem to step on toes instead. I become the busybody, the enemy, when what I'm actually trying to do and be is quite the opposite. I've said it before, and I'll say it again, I only take pains to correct someone when I care. It is only when I have a certain amount of respect either for the person or the work in question that I bother to play the school mistress. In the majority of cases, I don't bother.

I would prefer to be corrected than to be left wrong. But apparently I'm in the minority in this. Most people, it would seem, take offense instead of being appreciative of someone trying to correct them. I guess they perceive it as a putting down of them. Their egos are hurt by what appears to be condescension when in fact it isn't at all. Is condescension, then, like beauty, in the eye of the beholder? Should I feel bad about having hurt someone inadvertently? Or am I allowed to feel hurt at having been misjudged? I feel a bit of both right now. I am both indignant and sad. I apologized to the person in question, but it wasn't a heartfelt apology. A part of me, a rather large part, felt like they were the one being rude. Why should I have to apologize for their touchiness? But such is the way of human social interactions. Sigh.

The irony here is that this person was bemoaning the lack of real honest interactions with their fellow denizens. Now thanks to their telling me off, there is going to be one less person who is straight with them. Can't have your cake and eat it too, bro. 

Nighttime musings

Oh night, what is it about you that gives me such pleasure?
Such forbidden pleasure
I know I should be sleeping by now
I know I need to be at work in 6 hours
But defiance feels so good
Even if it really only harms me in the long run
Sensible me has fallen asleep, leaving the rebel in charge
And this rebel is a strange 'un
Not weak, no
Passive
She rebels not by doing what she wants
She rebels by not doing what (she's told) she must
Simply, quietly, blissfully ignoring what she wants not
And instead just being
Whence comes the joy in such silent resistance?
Perhaps I'm still just a naughty child inside
A naughty nut
A nutty even
 

A story of a stalking

I have a lot of serious, scary decisions that I'm pondering this week. But I'm not going to talk about those here. Instead I want to write about a random memory that was triggered by a song today. Isn't it cool how a song can sometimes transport one back to a very specific time and place?

The song was Collective Soul's Shine. The place - IIT Madras. The time - early 00s, possibly '01 or '02. IITM's culfest (do people still use that contraction for cultural festival?), Saarang, was a yearly pilgrimage for me back in those days. I went mainly for the western music group competition, but also for the quizzes, JAM and general vibe. And I always went alone. That was somehow important for the experience. The couple of times I went with someone were the worst. Not sure why..

Anyway, so this one particular year, there was a very cute chap who was compering the western music competition. And I took it into my head to stalk him just because. I knew there was practically no chance of him being interested in me, and even if there was I was totally ruining it by being the creepy stalker type, but I wanted to amuse myself. That's usually why I do most things I do. For my own personal amusement. As long as I'm not harming someone else in any substantial manner, why not, I figure.

At first I was subtle about it. But as the day went on, I became bolder and more reckless. I was literally walking out of a room if he walked out, following him into the next one and glancing his way every few seconds. I was quite blatant about it. To the point where not only the guy in question but even his friends started noticing it.  I am pretty sure that at least once some of them pointed to me and whispered amongst themselves when I walked into an auditorium a few seconds after him. I must admit I rather enjoyed that.

But little did I know the guy in question was growing bolder too. Or maybe just impatient? Towards the end of the day, I had either lost sight of and/or interest in him and was standing by a notice board with the days competition results. Suddenly I became aware of someone who'd come up to my side and was also ostensibly looking at the notice board. At first I pretended not to notice, but no, he wasn't having any of that. He made loud remarks to his friend to attract everyone's attention. I got the distinct impression that he was giving me a chance to strike up a conversation.  I should have taken that chance. I didn't, of course. I never do.

His name, by the way, was Gaurav something or other iirc. Just putting that out there in case by some freakish chance, he or someone who knows/knew him reads this...

Because if you are, I want you to know that I am sorry.

Wake up call

I think I got one of these today. An eventuality for which I was completely not prepared at all suddenly loomed frightfully close indeed. I had fleetingly thought about it before, but never seriously enough to prepare for it. Almost had a panic attack when faced with this scary prospect. Thankfully, while I may not know the "right people", I know some very good people indeed. Friend talked me out of my worst fears. His calm and collected, and most importantly, logical and realistic way of looking at things helped me more than I can say. Thanks a ton, S! I may take you up on your offer if worst comes to worst. But maybe it won't. Maybe.

Either way, I'm at least mentally prepared now and won't have a complete meltdown if shit happens. Bring it on life. I ain't afraid of you.

(Okay, I don't really mean that, don't be too mean...)

((That last part was the superstitious me, who shall get her own piece by and by))

Validation

It's funny how important validation is to us. I fancy myself a fairly independent person. It's the only ambition I ever had. And yet, I find myself lapping up validation from the most unlikely of sources, with the best (worst?) of them. It annoys me. But I can't help it. I can see clearly that it's this very need that we silly humans have that all these social media things feed on and are built upon. The likes, the favourites, the retweets, the shares. Bah. Fuck it all. I wonder if it is time for another retreat into the old shell.

On the other hand, there is a tangible benefit to be had from participating in the circus. That's undeniable. I've already gone on in this blog about all the new music I've discovered, the out-of-the-way shows I've found out about, the movies, the books. That is worth staying for. Just have to find a way to not get too caught up in it all. Easier said than done with a personality like mine. Have always been one to obsess massively over something for a period, then get bored and move on. Hell, I can't even play spider solitaire without getting hooked. But that's the key. This too shall pass. Heh.

Here, have some music to make up for that too-boring-to-even-be-called-a-rant rant. Stumbled on this quite by accident (I mean to write up a proper post about said accident and this show before long), and fell in love with it - Free Music Archive: Le fruit vert - Live at Casa del Popolo

Love, Food and Movies - Few of my favourite things

This weekend I watched a couple of Indian movies that were both about older (than the norm in Indian movies anyway, which seem to think love is the monopoly of young'uns) people falling in love. Not just that, they were also both about food. Food as the means of connecting these couples who fall in love without even seeing each other. I didn't plan to make a theme out of my weekend movie watching, but realised there had been one after the fact.

The first movie was the malayalam movie Salt and Pepper. It was mostly a light-hearted, feel-good sort of movie. Nothing earth shattering, but a nicely done romcom, which just happened to have at its center a lonely man in his 40s and an equally lonely woman in her 30s. They come together through their shared love of food, are kept apart by their insecurities (and complications arising therefrom), and finally overcome all to, if not live happily ever after, at least make a promising step in that direction.

The second one can be summed up in a strikingly similar manner, but for the ending. Although, that would really be selling it very, very short indeed. It was The Lunchbox. I have been meaning to watch this for a long time now, ever since I found it on pretty much every critic's (ones whose taste I respected anyway) end of the year list, usually at the very top. And it did not disappoint. I remember in an interview with Anupama Chopra, the director and actors talked about how they wanted to make the movie sweet but also sad. Or maybe it was happy but also sad. So they kept trying to find the sweet spot between the two - not wanting to make the characters out to be tragic or comic, but a bit of both. I think they nailed it. I found myself smiling throughout the movie but also feeling that tug at my heart. It's so easy to go overboard, but they managed it beautifully. I felt for these characters, with them, and most importantly, I fell for them.

When Saajan reads one particular note from Ila, and you can see in his face that he is falling for this woman, the thought that went through my head was "How I miss being in love!". But nay, that's not what I really miss. What I truly miss is falling in love. That sweet euphoria tempered with just the slightest bit of uncertainty. You are at your most vulnerable then and yet somehow feel on top of the world. Oh, to feel that way again!

That phase invariably leads to insecurity - in my case anyway. And so it is with Saajan. He is, however, more timid than I am, and almost lets his one chance at love slip away. The movie ends on a cliffhanger, leaving it up to the viewer to complete the tale. Having said so much, I think there can be hardly any question which ending I would want for these two people, whose loneliness I can relate to only all too well. However, much as I want it, can I believe such an ending to actually be possible? Life is rarely that kind. But, that's what movies and dreams are for. And I refuse to stop dreaming. Not yet, anyway.

On Being Happy

There's a song on my favourite Venetian Snares album that goes like this

I used to understand happy, I know that I used to be happy. I was really happy.
I'm unhappy now and I don't remember what it's like to be happy, I only remember... I don't remember...
I remember being happy only in comparison to not being happy, which is what I am now.

Now I've gone through phases where I've felt this way, as I'm sure most other people have. Of course, I find my way back to being happy again by and by. But this past weekend, a couple of my friends confessed to not having ever been happy. Or rather, to not know what being happy really means. One of them said her mother would have a checklist and say "Okay, so you have this, this, this and this. So you must be happy." Her mother is a truly practical person, I guess. And I suppose that is one way.

To me, though, that seems a cop-out. No, that's not the right word. It's more that it is short changing your life to boil it down to things that can be put on a list. From my perspective, anyway. I would find such a life tedious and pointless. Funny thing is, "pointless" is probably precisely the word that many would use to describe my own approach to life. This, too, came up in subsequent conversation with the same two friends. One offhandedly told me I have too much free time, when I was telling them about the various movies, interesting and otherwise, that I've seen recently. This cut me to the quick and instantly put me on the defensive. I demanded that she explain herself because I wasn't quite sure what she was getting at, but the other friend jumped in and said it made sense to her and that it was said in jest. I still don't get the joke. It seemed to me more an implied accusation. As in, you have nothing important/worthwhile to do so you spend your time frivolously. The reason for me jumping to this conclusion is that it's not the first time I've had that thrown at me, overtly or subtly. My own mother being first in line among my accusers. If not that, then the most generous alternative interpretation that I can think of is that she meant that wistfully. In the sense of "I wish I had that kind of free time." Which would make sense given that she is super busy in her many roles as mom, wife and scientist, and views movies and music and such as primarily entertainment (to me they mean so much more).

But I digress. The point is, I live to be happy. I can't imagine not knowing what happiness is. It is scary to even think of such an existence. And an existence is all it would be. Not a life. To me living, truly living, means to experience joy, which comes through many means. One of the primary joys of my life is a very primal one - simply experiencing with my senses. That's why I would describe myself as, first and foremost, a sensual being (in the true sense of the word). I live to touch and see and hear and taste beauty. Beauty, not in the sense of aesthetically pleasing alone, but in a more wider sense. Beauty is in things that touch your soul. I don't believe in the concept of a soul or what-have-you, but I can't find another word to describe it. Something that strikes a chord in your innermost being. I've briefly touched on how music makes me feel in an older blog post. It is almost indescribable. It makes me feel alive. Yes, that's the way to describe it. I find beauty in things that make me feel glad to be alive. Glad that I'm alive in this moment to experience this thing that makes me feel this way. Life-affirming.

Maybe it's a very selfish way of looking at life. In fact, it certainly is, because if everyone chose to live like me, then the world would simply stop. At the end of the day, we do need people like these friends of mine, who take it upon themselves to put aside their own need for happiness (or lack thereof) and bear children and raise them and work at jobs that have meaning and a purpose and all the rest of that.  For myself, I'm not quite ready to give up my hedonistic life. And I strongly suspect I never will be. There's just too much out there, man.

Also, I should add that you don't need to confine yourself to listening to happy songs and watching feel good movies in order to be happy. On the contrary, I find myself drawn more to works of art at the other end of the spectrum. Mainly because they feel more real. To illustrate what I mean, I'll leave you with the song I opened this post with. It's one of the things that make me happy in the sense I've tried to describe. And it's a good example because, as you've probably guessed based on those words, it is not a happy song. It's not that I take pleasure in the pain expressed in it. I'm neither a sadist nor a masochist. Rather I find pleasure in how beautifully the song conveys the emotion of despair. It is a good song. And that makes me happy.

Restless

Antsy
Feeling like I should be doing something
Not work
Although I really should do that
And soon
No
Something more fulfilling than work
But what
This?
Perhaps
No
Should write something more
Tangible?
Maybe
A story?
Random words?
Or is that called free verse?
Sometimes having a brain can be such a
Curse

I made a friend...

..in real life! This hasn't happened in so long that I thought it never would anymore. I was resigned to only getting to know new people through the internets. Which, to be honest, isn't so bad. It's quite wonderful being able to connect with people with similar interests who're on the other side of the planet.

But, there's just something so exciting about finding someone like that within stone's throw. Someone with good taste and, more importantly, that certain undefinable something that makes me feel comfortable being around them and speaking my mind. Comfortable enough for me to not come off either condescending and arrogant or painfully shy.

Someone I can maybe actually go to a show with. Without worrying about whether they're going to hate it. Without being annoyed by their persistence in chatting whilst the band is playing (we did meet someone like that at the show though and I did my best to ignore him).

But, more than that, this is someone I am interested in getting to know as a person. Not just a concert buddy. I sort of had one of those (through the internet again) sometime ago and we fell apart. No, what makes this so cool is that this time I enjoyed the conversation on our way to the show and back almost as much as the time there. Real actual conversation. Not just small talk or simply talking about music, but wide-ranging intelligent interesting conversation.

I'm quite giddy with excitement. I only hope I didn't completely misread her and she really did mean what she said about having had a good time and hoping we could do this again. Time will tell.

What I find amusing in all this is that I never thought I'd be so thrilled to make a platonic friend. The few times before now that I have made new friends or almost-friends in the past few years, it was always with men. I think this is because the only time I step out of the house, or connect with people on the internet, is for the sake of music and I guess the music I listen to draws a largely male audience. Now, if I'm being completely honest, invariably, on some level I either read more into it than there is or want to or expect to or whatever. Bottom line, it's rarely purely platonic, even if it is so on the surface. There is almost always subtext (real or imagined). And again, if I'm completely honest with myself, I must admit getting a kick out of this. So to find in myself the potential for excitement over a friend who will be just a friend is exciting in and of itself.

Okay, at this point, I'm probably rambling and should stop, so I will. Blame it on the lateness and the tiredness from a long but fun day. I'm sorry for the self-absorbed nature of the last few posts. I actually started writing about a concert today but wasn't able to finish it. Maybe I'll publish the incomplete draft just so all my recent posts aren't about me me me. 

Catching up

Today's been a day of catching up with old friends. Actually not just today. This whole week has been about that. It is true what they say - the older you get the more you need the people you knew when you were younger. Sometimes you don't even know you needed it until after the fact. So next time you feel like something's missing, not quite right, whatever, try giving an old friend a call. It just might leave you with a smile. I know I'm smiling today.

This one goes out to all my friends:



P.S.: I always thought I'd be one of those (most interesting) 40-year-olds who still don't know what to do with their lives. Now I'm well and truly on my way to that. Except I'm probably only interesting to myself. But hey, that's all that matters at the end of the day.

When I grow up

I think I've finally hit on something I'd like to do for a living that perfectly matches my interests and abilities. I want to either start a record label or run a record store.

I love discovering and, more importantly, sharing new and interesting music. I am reasonably good at judging the sort of music someone would be open to based on their current interests and recommending something along those lines. I've done this in the past with tolerable success. While I'm generally not a people person, I am not exactly socially awkward either. So that shouldn't be a hurdle.

Yeah, the more I think about it, the surer I am that this is what I want to do - what I ought to do - when I grow up. The only question is when will I grow up? Or should it be will I ever grow up? Perhaps this is just another one of my daydreams. Well, I like dreaming. And who knows, maybe one of my dreams will come true one day...

Warning: Acerbic Rant Ahead

I haven't posted in a while for a combination of reasons. Primarily because I haven't had the time. But also because I wasn't feeling like writing. Been in a curiously dissatisfied frame of mind. Made a bit of a bad social blunder that I think I was led on to because of impatience. Either way it made me feel terribly ashamed of myself and resolve to not bother trying to reach out to humans again. Until the next time anyway.

So the reason I didn't have time was because I went to a music fest. It was a bit of a let down tbh. The highlights were seeing Wolf Eyes, Shabazz Palaces and Gary Numan. The first two I was especially looking forward to, and while they did not disappoint in themselves, the venue left something to be desired. The sound wasn't the best, and a patio in the cold wasn't the ideal place on some rather chilly nights.

The Shabazz Palaces show was almost ruined by a couple of really annoying drunk chicks who drove me up the wall. These idiots somehow managed to get spots right at the front and instead of enjoying the music spent almost the entire time either chattering loudly and taking selfies or taking a video of the performance on their phone with the flash on the entire time. I came -this- close to grabbing their phones and smashing them on the ground. It was so very distracting. They had some nice lights and stuff set up on stage but all we got to see for a large chunk was the infuriating white light from their phones. Just thinking about it makes me want to @&*$^*&!#^^&!#%

I'm adding drunk self-absorbed people more interested in themselves than the show ruining it for everyone else to my list of most FSSR (Fist Shaking Saber Rattling) inducing things ever. It may even surpass people who cruise at or below the speed limit on the passing lane and make it to the top of the list. These are not "pet peeves", mind you. These are the things that make me shudder with extreme repulsion when new-agey people talk about how we're all one mind or whatever. I do not want to have anything to do with inconsiderate jerks like these on any level.

These two women were extreme cases but I came across many such during the course of this music fest. Why oh why do people go to a concert and spend their time there talking, nay yelling loudly over the music, to each other? Couldn't they go elsewhere where they can talk without being disturbed by music and without paying the price of admission? Sigh.

Some conversations

can be so draining. You know you're not really getting through to the other person but you try anyway. In the end, you walk away frustrated and they aren't feeling any better either. Wish I could avoid these situations. Usually I'm in too deep before I know what's up and then it's too late to back out. Ugh.

In other news, I spent a ton of money on music today. Have a sweet bunch of records headed my way soon. I should start doing the Vinyl Weekend thing again. I haven't been listening to my records as much as I should ever since I moved. Need to set up my gear properly. Soon.

Here's a list of what I bought today. All good stuff that is well worth checking out, mainly of an electronic/noise/drone/ambient music persuasion.

Dino Spiluttini & Nils Quak - Modular Anxiety

Safiyya - Shareek Hayaat

Fennesz Daniell Buck - Knoxville

Robert A.A. Lowe & Rose Lazar - Eclipses

3 Derek Rogers albums on bandcamp


Also, gave the new self-titled St. Vincent album a listen and quite liked it. I think I'll try and go see her show tomorrow after all.

Update: I took a photo of all that stuff I bought. Here it is.

Awake

Been awake for 36 hours now. Not really sure why. On the bright side, got a couple of chores done, listened to some new music (well, I've been doing a lot of that, but this time it was full albums instead of soundcloud / bandcamp track by track listens: Andy Stott - Luxury Problems, Death Grips - Exmilitary, and Alva Noto & Ryuichi Sakamoto - Insen), and finished catching up on Community Season 5.

I quite like this new season. A huge improvement over the gas leak year. Lots of laughs as usual, but what was surprising was how emotional Troy's departure was. Maybe it was because I was running on no sleep for so long, but I admit I teared up a couple of times (that Abed!).

Ok, now I go sleep. Probably going to sleep my Sunday away. Oh well. Next week is so full of happenings it will totally make up for a mostly uneventful weekend. St. Vincent on Monday (maybe), Earth on Tuesday (definitely) and the Middle of the Map fest from Thursday to Saturday. I mostly only got tickets to the latter because Wolf Eyes was on the lineup. Still not really sure who else I really want to see. Was hoping some of the local psych acts would play but looks like they aren't. Have a few days to figure out my schedule, I guess...Ok ok, really going this time. Night night!

Oh, before I go, a recent music find that I'm quite digging -

Random Live Music Day

I found out about this show (Expo 70 + Midday Veil + Airport) just an hour before it was supposed to begin in a venue some 40 miles away. It was a show I really wanted to see. Only catch was I didn't have the exact address of the place. I had a vague memory of catching another show there a few years ago, featuring Expo 70 again, actually. All I remembered was that it was an art studio type place in an out-of-the-way part of the city where some of the more experimental local bands and occasionally some out of towners played, usually for free or for a small donation. I posted on the Midday Veil fb page asking for the address without much hope of an answer that late. But, lo and behold, they answered.

So I drove over thinking I was an hour late and hoping I wouldn't miss either Expo 70 or Midday Veil. I get there only to find no one but the bands inside and about 4 people hanging outside the studio. It was too cold to stay out, so I went in, said an awkward hello, sat down and pulled out my phone. Expo 70 who went first started playing a solid hour or more after I got there. Smartphones are such a blessing in circumstances like this, although I did wish I had the guts to join in in their conversation about krautrock and other cool musics. Especially when I overheard them talking about Can and Faust. Sigh.

Anyway it was a great show and a perfect way to start the week. Very glad I decided to go even though I was feeling a bit under the weather. I'll write up a more detailed review tomorrow maybe. I just got back home and it's already past 2 (I wrote up part of this post in between acts). Must hit the sack soon 'cause I have to make it to work early tomorrow so I can get out of work early as well.  Marx brothers month continues tomorrow with A Night At The Opera. Whee.

Oh, also, the percussionist from Midday Veil (dude played the bongos and a triangle(!) among other things) thanked me for stopping by on my way out. It was a last minute plan to have the show apparently, and only a handful of people turned up overall, and I was the only one aside from the band folks who stayed till the very end. It was very nice of him, but I'm pretty sure I made a fool of myself. Still, :)

And since I'm in such a good mood. Here have a song by one of my all-time favourite bands, a live version even: