the future was our skin and now we don't dream anymore.

I have never really been one for blogging about music, other than to post a nice song at the bottom of the page that I think you might enjoy. There is one simple reason for this - I know nothing about it. I have no idea what makes the music I like good, what instruments are playing, the correct terminology for the different components or anything about keys and stuff. I don't want you to feel that I'm harping on when it's something I know so little about.

So I'm going to make a deal with you. The music stuff will remain a key part of what I write about, but you are not to expect anything more insightful from me than "ooh this is pretty" or "I like his face". Neither should you think that the songs I select will be particularly new or in any way cool. Okay? Okay.

Perfection exists in the form of a beautiful man from Sweden who is like a scrubbed up Bob Dylan with a voice just the right side of harsh and a super cool wife with odd hair. This song is gorgeous and I must have listened to it twenty times today.



Beach House's Teen Dream is an album I can listen to again and again without tiring of it. Take Care and Walk in the Park are my favourites, but the whole album is cracking. They have a new album out now which is just as lovely. For those of you in the clutches of exams at the moment, rather than being smug that I have none, I am going to be helpful and suggest that you let this band aid you in your revision. It worked for me last year!



I had a dream last night that I was on a boat with Conor Oberst. He renamed me 'Lua' and I remember being less than pleased. Nonetheless, it made me think about seeing Bright Eyes last summer and how much I have been obsessed with them (him) for such a considerable length of time. I think he deserves just one more sneaky appearance with this lovely live version of what is now my song (in my dreams at least).




I'd really like to go to some gigs this summer, so if you have any suggestions, or if you'd like somebody to keep you company, just drop me a little message. Failing that, there's always Greenbelt where lovely people like Gentry Morris come to play and I get to spend my days sauntering round a vegan café, picking up rubbish and making people tea. It's one of the highlights of my year.

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Two and a bit weeks left of holiday. Not much has changed, if I'm honest.


I've spent most of the day watching old reruns of 'Inspector Morse' interspersed with stints in the sun. It wasn't a memorable day, but unlike yesterday, I did not fall asleep outside and wake up with an unceremoniously red nose. It's odd how I always think I'm a winter person until summer arrives, but then I realise that being warm is quite pleasant really. Although wearing lots of knitwear is frowned upon when it's above 10°C.


I have sort of run out of things to say. This is because I have become immensely dull and uninspired in my old age, so I'm going to embed some short films that will break your heart, and some songs which will only make it ache a little bit. 




The Search from Phase VI on Vimeo.



That last one is a killer...







So you see, the unthinkable has happened, and I have finally run out of words.I hope your Saturday night would blow mine out of the water.