Thursday, August 17, 2006

And there's always a crackhead charismatic liar

haha, best lyrics in recent times
...err, are they talking about me? (no you're worse, cos you're not kid anymore ...)

The Indelicates - We Hate The Kids

Every generation gets fooled again
And every generation is to blame
And its no good saying its not in your name
'cause it is in your name
And this generation is the same
And this generation is to blame
And I'm sorry that I can't join in any more
But I've been let down : too many times before
Oh yeah we mean it
We hate the kids
So dance dance dance to the radio tonight

I wanted to believe in rock'n'roll stars
I wanted to believe in contemporary art
I wanted to aspire to a higher path
But there's no higher path
It was ever thus, and it was ever you
And it's ever us because we'll do it too
And we're sorry to the all the disinherited meek, and
We're sorry for this con-trick that we play on the people
Oh yeah we mean it
We hate the kids
So dance dance dance to the radio tonight

And nobody ever comes alive
And the journalists clamour round glamour like flies
And boys who should know better grin and get high
With fat men who once met the MC5
And no one discusses what they don't understand
And no one does anything to harm the brand
And this gift is an illusion, this isn't hard
Absolutely anyone can play the fucking guitar
Oh yeah we mean it
We hate the kids
Useless children genuflecting
To the idols who exploit them
Open mouthed and arsed expecting
Some god to anoint them
Dance Dance Dance to this radio tonight

And there's always a monk to get set on fire
And there's always a crackhead charismatic liar
And there's always a depth to which you can aspire
And there's always a teenager due to expire
Pop had a beginning, it grew and was tended
Now it is rotten. Let it be ended.
Let every hopeless case that every drummer befriended,
Every seven-inch that every student intended
Every groupie and ligger and identity seeker
Every druggy and drinker and every loudspeaker
Be done with, be piled up, tossed, set alight
No more music, thank you, goodnight.

Tuesday, August 15, 2006

We get direction

but nowhere to go
So should we start our way back home
Forget the things that we will never know
We get direction but nowhere to go
- Which Way To Kyffin

There was a dead silence for a while cos' I was a bit busy at work. Nothing special (that's life). Nothing to write.

The verse was taken from the new album of James Dean Bradfield. I found it sort of aphorism, at least for me.

Nice to have found a small oasis in my endless desert-like life (or deserted life). Manic Street Preachers were(are) never one of those most favourite uk bands like suede, blur or pulp in Hong Kong. Maybe their songs were too political and literature-related (this place is proud to be anti-politics and anti-intellect). Or just because they looked so morbid, anorexic, blood-thirsty or aids victim in the richey days and look too middle-age in the days after richey? That made my worship to the Manics in Hong Kong in a particular lonesome way. (Series of digression. Back to James' work). James' solo project is definitely one of my favourite this year. Lush arrangement and extremely melodic, it is the sound of the post-Richey Manics, but more sincere. The Great Western is the railway which links up London Paddington and the Wales. The whole album is James' own reflection about home and away, loss and growth. From tribute to the dear lost ones ("An English Gentleman", "Bad Boys and Painkillers") to the song for the exiles ("Emigre"), these are the pain of growth. Conclusion is yet to be found (or never can be found) ("Which Way to Kyffin").

The Great Western is also my favourite rail in UK, not picturesque as the route to the North, but it reminds me of the days in england, the times when I also lived in Paddington, boarding trains just for that same band.

Wednesday, August 02, 2006

Brief meeting with Taipei

street of taipei

City impression

If London is my bosom friend and beloved, Amsterdam my adulterous lover, then Taipei is a new friend which I have pleasant first impression. Maybe I have watched too much tv in Hong Kong, my expectation of this city was influenced by the news about fighting in their parliament and aweful tv series. It was a nice surprise when I found this city is in fact much better than the image showing in their news and tv soup operas. It is so Confucian (in a good way), my mum was frequently given seat by others which was quite impressive, anyway the name of some of the underground stations already suggest such confucian way of life.

Taiwanese Food. The thing which every Hong-kongese goes there for. It's a pity that I did not try much cos' I didn't have time, but maybe I should be glad for the avoidance of gaining a few more inches to my big belly.

Chado - The Taiwanese way of tea

Books. The things which many Hong-kongese go there for. Eslite is definitely an achievement and pride of Taiwan. I just glanced through their website and found that it is in fact a listed company. I was very amazed by the co-existence of business, money-making, commerical activities and the profound, intellectual, cultural activities. Actually these two groups should not be mutually exclusive but yes, that's the case in Hong Kong. I couldn't find the books in "bookstores street" (which is nice also, near Taipei Station) I found them in Eslite. When I found the whole volumes of 管錐篇 just within my reach on the shelves, I felt like screaming! These're the books I thought I could never possess!

Formoz Festival

That's the main reason I went to Taipei. It's good to have such music festival so close to my hometown (of course it's better if Hong Kong itself will organise one in the future). I saw Super Furry Animals once in Cardiff Stadium but stadium, as usual - sucks, so I think the small venue of Formoz is much better. SFA was as humourous, playful and brilliant as usual. It's great to have some early stuff like Show Me Magic (but I longed for Something 4 the Weekend). There was some problem in the sound effect during Receptacle For The Respectable so it was not as hilarious as the version in the album. The highlight was of course Man Don't Give A Fuck. In order to survive in this cruel world, we all have to sing this song everyday.


Dirty Pretty Things, that's the main reason I went to Formoz Festival. The audience was more gentle than those in UK (or Japan) so it's OK to stand in the front row. The band became better and better (of course, this is a diligent band, "..carl is studious" as gary said [but carl didn't like this "unrock n' roll" description] haha) , tight and fit (for their performance and outlook ^^). I expect to have their new b-side track One To My Left but I got Plan A instead, so I won't complain. Shirtless (or may I say Topless?) becomes their ritual at the end of every gig, greedy gaze, lustful stare from every corner of the venue. We all love this ritual.

examples of bad photography

p.s. special thanks to ppp, river and her cute little sister, you all make my day!!