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hirezBeen in a bit of a pit the last week or so. It happens. Arse kicked and back on track, with luck.
Anyway, I pottered out for a good long (for me, anyway) run into the teeth of a gale and avoiding all the other idiot bloody road users down the Gloucester Road (Those would be the halfwit drivers who park in the bike lane, the halfwit (push)biker who swooped across both lanes of traffic, narrowly avoiding collection by a speeding XR2, the fuckwit in the Porsche, the other fuckwit in the X5... At this point I abandoned the bike lane and steamed past the useless bastards on the outside) because the day was bright, I'd had to go into work anyway and I fancied a trip to the Here shop. Like the Cube, it makes me feel entirely old, clueless and slightly suburban. Much as I'd like to demonstrate my hipness and how 'down' I am with 'what's happening' on the cutting edge of Bristol culture, I'd look like a right pillock in a 'Tinker has a posse' shirt.
It's still a splendid place, mind.
Anyway. Not hiding at all really in the middle of a shelf was a pile of hand-crank music boxes. Self programmable ones. I've been wanting to have a bash at something like this since a trip to the Mechanical Music Museum in Northleach aaaages ago.
Of course, now I need to find the right sort of music to encode. 'Ever fallen in love?' and 'The Model' are the two obvious ones. 'Prototype pop' (From 'Clifford darling...') and 'Rez' are two less obvious examples.
Although I'd need to find some more of the program strips. They feel like thick Tyvek or very shiny cartridge paper.
I have also been watching 'Pump up the volume' again because it recently fell out of the internet, and grinning like an idiot at all the splendid old squitty acid tunes.
Anyway, I pottered out for a good long (for me, anyway) run into the teeth of a gale and avoiding all the other idiot bloody road users down the Gloucester Road (Those would be the halfwit drivers who park in the bike lane, the halfwit (push)biker who swooped across both lanes of traffic, narrowly avoiding collection by a speeding XR2, the fuckwit in the Porsche, the other fuckwit in the X5... At this point I abandoned the bike lane and steamed past the useless bastards on the outside) because the day was bright, I'd had to go into work anyway and I fancied a trip to the Here shop. Like the Cube, it makes me feel entirely old, clueless and slightly suburban. Much as I'd like to demonstrate my hipness and how 'down' I am with 'what's happening' on the cutting edge of Bristol culture, I'd look like a right pillock in a 'Tinker has a posse' shirt.
It's still a splendid place, mind.
Anyway. Not hiding at all really in the middle of a shelf was a pile of hand-crank music boxes. Self programmable ones. I've been wanting to have a bash at something like this since a trip to the Mechanical Music Museum in Northleach aaaages ago.
Of course, now I need to find the right sort of music to encode. 'Ever fallen in love?' and 'The Model' are the two obvious ones. 'Prototype pop' (From 'Clifford darling...') and 'Rez' are two less obvious examples.
Although I'd need to find some more of the program strips. They feel like thick Tyvek or very shiny cartridge paper.
I have also been watching 'Pump up the volume' again because it recently fell out of the internet, and grinning like an idiot at all the splendid old squitty acid tunes.
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no subject
Date: 2007-03-12 11:17 am (UTC)(Did the Buzzcocks do any other songs?)
no subject
Date: 2007-03-12 08:58 pm (UTC)