information underload

Listening to Beck's "Think I'm in love" on Triplejay yesterday I could've sworn he was sampling himself from an earlier album. Ah, very cheeky. So in amongst the homages and styles there's something faintly reminiscent of...Beck! Maybe the perfect postmodern self-referential navel gaze. A bit like when we bloggers refer to old archived posts of our own (tee hee)...
I must get around to getting his album The Information from last year. Like the sound of it alot.

border lines

I'm so jealous of those of you who could go see Anna Broinowski's doco on Norma Khouri, Forbidden Lie$, which premiered at the Adelaide Film Festival the other night. Anyone see it? Still, maybe the film will just happen to be showing in Sydney in May, as I'm heading there for a girlfriend's wedding, and to go along to the Sydney Writers Festival to hear my sister's good mate Suzanne Leal talk about her book "Border Street".
(I won't hold my breath for Broinowski's film to make its way up to Porpoise Spit...)
Might try to hook up with some Sydney bloggers then, too; if anyone's interested, let me know.

Mountain comes to Mohammed update: Ah, but I see in my local paper that the Beatels are gonna be playing Porpoise Spit on March 30. See you there, Ringo baby! Talk about the long and winding road...

one good thing about music

People go into a bit of a trance when they play guitar, don't they? Reminds me of how a friend recently informed me of the fact that Jimi Hendrix once made actual love to his guitar, on stage. I did not know that. I wonder if it's true, but it wouldn't surprise me. There's something very fetishistic about the guitar.
Makes me think back to boyfriends from long, long ago, sitting enraptured on the edge of the bath tub, apparently half-delirious, strumming away furiously, murmuring and wailing and looking to the heavens (and--to my great annoyance--ignoring me).
I guess it's not isolated to guitarists. At least, I've seen entranced drummers, pianists, singers, even harpists (Harpo Marx springs to mind). I get it dancing, or singing along.
It's funny, though, innit? The power of music.