There’s some dudes on scaffolding out my window messing with the glass or something. I am making a tune and they’re sort of bobbing about in time to the beat. It is sweet.
The tune is a thing called Dead Babies I half wrote a long time ago, when I was still in my old band. They didn’t like it much, as was the pattern. It is a difficult thing to do, to be honest. Its easy to write about the evils of others.
Like, I wrote this massive diatribe last night before I went to bed, but forgot to post it, and didn’t save. I never learn. The main point was this horror in New Orleans. And how, as with seemingly every vile thing to curse our people in recent years, we can blame Bush, and we can blame the Bankers.
It never ceases to amaze me how much money we pump into war, yet how little there ever seems to be for our people. And how this is never bought up in conversation. Bird Flu, as we have known for a long time, is on its way. And there is a vaccine. Red Ken’s people have it. Blair, and Bush’s people have it. The rest of us don’t. And won’t, until 2007, by which time many millions of us will be dead.
I can barely type right now, due to the rigorous upper boddy workout my man Taz put me and Jeff through at the gym earlier. Strapped up to all these metal machines, that looked like torture devices, yanking and tearing at the spoils of our vices. Skreeeeesh.
I couldn’t eat my meat afterwards, and could barely lift the ice cold glass to my quivering lips. I felt like I’d done too much drugs – that horrorful point where you know you went too far, and you have to just hang in there, and hope it fades.
Which it has, a little. I am still juddery, but the nausea has gone. Tomorrow will be more hardcore, I imagine, but if I am to tour and what have you, then I cannot be in the piss poor shape I have been pretty happy in for the majority of my life.
So it goes. Bankers is sounding fat. James has been prepping in his crib, and sent me an MP3. I keep changing that song, because it has to be right. It’s looking like it might get to the level I envisaged, however. It’s looking like this album is going to be of some worth. Which is all I can hope for, really.
Actually, its going to be fucking awesome.
By the way. You might want to read my man Jeff Wells’ take here. And read the comments, as ever illuminating and contrary in equal turn.