Someone has looked into my mind and decided “let’s show films in a pub”. Big up to Blackfriars in the Merchant City, they show films FREE at 9pm on Tuesdays. Last night I saw Jesus’ Son, a US indie film that was about last year, it’s pleasant company for 90 minutes of your life. Drugs, sex, black comedy, sweet/nauseating bits and the main character is called Fuckhead. I did feel slightly cheated though: there’s no Velvet Underground on the soundtrack despite title and the characters being on heroin. Next week they’re showing Me Without You then it’s Requiem for a Dream.

Tonight should be fun. Not just OXES, not just I’m Being Good but also Fighting Red Adair and Sam’s Hot Car Lot, who i’ve heard things about. I’ll be the one skulking by the bar, sporting the soon-to-be fashionable “rats gnawed my skull” hairstyle.

Saw him at Sleazy’s on sunday. He’s good. Go see. No sitting at a laptop playing minesweeper. HipHop for folk who don’t own guns. Songs in praise of bikes. And funny. I liked it. Random Number, too, but his sound wasn’t as good – needed more punch on the beats. Maybe he needs a better soundcard. Computers, eh? Not rock and roll. “Love the songs guys but you need more, more ooomph…. here take this NoisyBastard 666 card.”

Back to fretting about the state of the world: Whither Glastonbury?, and there was an excellent report on suicide bombers in The Guardian this morning too. But I am smiling and care free because I got to use the word “whither”.

I have been here for less than 8 hours and I love it. I’ll get to sleep on the roof of my hotel which overlooks the square where there’s folk playing mental Gnoua trance and dancing at half10 in the morning.

So why am I in the dark typing? It’s hot, I’m teaching a kid to count in french (but only up to 15) and I’m lost and don’t want to have to walk back through the market yet…..

Got the first useful piece of MovieMaster JunkMail, too! Or it would be if I actually made films.

Hoho. Everyone else must be dealing still with all yesterdays hangovers.

Apart from the stuff I’ve seen before (Low, Godspeed…), I was most impressed by:
The beach. Proper good sand dunes.
Zeni Geva, proper immense metal works and more than 3 people in a band is trying too hard.
PW Long, bloke with acoustic guitar who made Smog look lazy. Yeeha. On tour now but I didn’t catch the name of his band. Whoops.
And that off-kilter instrumental group I can’t remember the name of. You know who I mean.

And I owe apologies to:
Rachels
anyone I made coffee for over the weekend
anyone who tried to speak to me in the mornings
everyone I didn’t see much because I was looking at bands or dossing in my chalet too much

I like New Scientist:

Copy protection on Celine Dion’s new CD makes it harder to play. (A good news story).

And TV makes you violent. The best thing about this story is that no matter how conclusive the evidence (25 years worth, economics controlled for) folk are still trying to wriggle out of it by blaming the content. Uhuh. Don’t try and say that over 25 years these people only watched the violent stuff and that’s why they went bad. It’s the medium, it makes you a callous moron. And it’s brainwashing you. Seek help!

Things I did included looking at the Warhol exhibition. Some amusing things about it:
* The sculpture of replica Brillo boxes was a replica of the sculpture of Brillo boxes.
* The film of the Empire State building (supposed to last all night) is the edited highlights.
* You aren’t allowed to take pictures of paintings made from photographs ripped out of magazines.

Still not sure what I think of Warhol. The pictures I like and you’ve got to respect how ubiquitous they’ve become (I can’t see Marilyn Monroe without thinking of the yellow hair and pink lips silk-screened on). The other stuff, the celebrity worship and glossy surfaces, I’m suspicious of. It feels like he is used to justify all sorts of annoying tedious crap, a fig leaf for artists that revel in their own pointlessness and vapidity. Once he did that he left no further for artists to go down that route and if the route wasn’t so commerce-friendly it would be seen as just a pretty little cul-de-sac.

Got to say a couple of words in praise of the Edinburgh Film Festival Early Spring thing. Some fine fine films that there’s still time to see (esp if you’re in London) but aren’t going to get released in this country. Lantana is set in Sydney, a murder mystery with a nice meandering feel and flawed, believable characters. I was even more impressed with Les Blessures Assassines (or Murderous Maids if you prefer) and have to use words like gritty, realist and ouch to describe it. It’s like Heavenly Creatures without the fluffy bits and its take on served/servant relations makes Gosford Park look like, ooh, a tedious and mannered waste of celluloid.

Consumer Protection Warning: I’ve seen an advert for Trouble Every Day, Vincent Gallo’s new film, and it’s claiming to be Buffy the Vampire Slayer meets Deep Throat. That’s bollocks: it’s a vampire film with sex in it, directed by a French arthouse darling. That makes it The Hunger with less shoulderpads, less Bowie, less dialogue, more moodily framed shots, more meaningful looks, and a soundtrack by the Tindersticks. It’s a good film but don’t go expecting Buffy Does Dracula (that’s still in pre-production).

Went to see Fridge last night. Very good. Forgave them some freejazzy noodlings I wasn’t in the mood for when they finished by building up this driving track over about 20 minutes at the end. Highest marks go to the bass player’s Tshirt with blood under the armpits, though.

Having lots of fun playing with this cutup machine that The Morning News pointed me at. Sometimes it’s like a truth machine, sometimes just funny. I used it on a message* from the man who owns me for 8 hours a day and he says “I look forward to $7.8 billion.”

[* if anyone can tell me what “leverage” is supposed to mean as a verb, I’d love to know…]

Got arrested at the Faslane Blockade;
Seen any films I’d bother to see again;
Bought any good records;
Finished reading Moby Dick
Been given the day off because of the train strikes;
Blogged.

Wow. I rock.

Not done anything notable recently but at least I can arrive on time, unlike certain ROCK STARS in bands with long names.

“we’re in Scotland”, “och aye”, “40 miles from glasgow”

“What time were we picking the van up”

I want my pizza you dawdling fools.

Who are you anyway? Sunny Noise Sub Experiment? Nice