So it’s the second time in a row I return home without my memory card, probably in my case aging does not bring about loss of memory per se, but loss of memory cards, even though they might of course be somehow interconnected. Horrible pun absolved, let’s get back to why this matters at all. Placebo’s Without You I’m Nothing just turned twenty, and NME published this great piece about the sisters who are featured on it’s cover. I myself clearly remember buying the cassette version while visiting my uncle’s family in Braşov, and it was an original none the less- without entering any stormy debates about piracy and author’s rights, let’s say that in 90s Romania originals were still not the easiest to come by, and especially not particularly kind to a high school kid’s budget, so one chose very wisely when it came to investing in the real deal. The real deal is portrayed above with the help of photographic technology for the weak minded and memory card impaired- the mobile phone.
Just to the one musical obsession per month trend going, after Interpol and Leonard Cohen we move on to the Arctic Monkeys, so I hereby present for your consideration one short film hovering in very typical manner on the borderline between self-indulgence and brilliance, and one full concert from Texas, featuring the Alex minus beard and mane we got on Sziget as well, which per the flamboyantly French characterization of Les Inrocks was very bouillant. Somewhat similarly to Mr Turner, St Vincent has also discovered her longing for being a lounge singer (must be a phase most musicians pass through, not that I would know), and here’s what she had to say about that, and some other topics. So as not to be stuck in my possibly boring musical box, I decided to give it a go and listen to the full playlist of Pitchfork’s best 200 albums of the 1980s, but after valiantly braving trough things I never thought I’d bear with for more than 20 seconds I finally gave in during one particularly screamy early Metallica. Losing a lot of cred here, I know, but I’m growing too old and wise to pretend. Then there’s the below video, which I happened to discover in a moment when it adeptly summed up my mood- I then raided Angele’s back catalogue to discover some other gems as well, such as this one and then this one too.
Moving over to the travel section, here’s a new compendium of Yugoslav spomeniks, a healthy dose of airport porn, a literary exploration of Dublin and a piece about amber mining in Kaliningrad. Though perhaps Budapest should not qualify as travel, it’s always interesting to see what people visiting think about it- and whether they find new angles to approach a subject quite familiar to me. Freunde von Freunden did a decent job, as they usually do, focusing on some less known music being made in Budapest. When it comes to exploring cities, here’s another interesting proposition, though it frankly comes with some risks, from the simple one of being taken for a weirdo to the more complicated one of finding yourself in a police station with no knowledge of the local tongue. It’s probably safer to explore your own city by following your own footsteps, which don’t always take you where planners wanted you to go.
Among the many things that drive me crazy- people at work who start their conversations, face to face or virtual ones, with a how are you that can only be responded to ritually, since we hardly even know each other- that may be the reason why I always felt splendid in Finland where, as we’ve been told, people survive without small talk. I can only ever do small talk if it’s perhaps related to some juicy trivia, sports and more particularly football being high of the list, so here you may indulge in some unashamed gushing about Lionel Messi, some altogether darker arts put into practice, naturally, by Luis Suárez, plus there’s an epic website that will help you predict results way better than you did before.
A cat with mild anxiety caused by parallel realities is perfect to start off the voluminous bits and bobs sections, containing a surprising and somewhat infuriating connection between beer and witchcraft, a great series about dinnertime in different homes, a refreshing read on Nietzsche, an Icelandic cat with Hungarian connections going instafamous, a 107 year old barber still going strong in the business (#lifegoals), a Japanese man running marathons for the heck of it (#morelifegoals). We now take a break for musical recommendations, having discovered that Beirut is back and is still going strong on geographical references, as seen below.
Besides the above mentioned Without You I’m Nothing, 1998 also gave us the greatest film of all times, namely The Big Lebowski, and the bowling team reunited twenty years later for an interview. After having re-watched it, you might also consider new propositions, such as The Haunting of Hill House, and not just because it contains Oliver Jackson-Cohen. Moving on to literature, here is an intriguing list of places where great books were written, a musing on why we like books that tell the tale of whole lives, hopping over to visual arts, considerations on photography in the age of Instagram, and a piece on Egon Schiele.
In the manner of the old Top Gear, it’s time to end on a bomb shell, so here’s Kali Uchis singing her Killer tune on the Colors show.