They try to sing their wayward song, but oh what a way I found

strange that how you came along, 'cause what i want came out the blue

5:00am in the morning. It's the usual early morning, the usual route which led him back to the place called home. The odour of cigarette and sour alcohol of himself was a bit overwhelming and made him dizzy, actually he already forgot what kind of drinks or substance he had taken last night, or hadn't he? All he remembered was the empty talk and horrible jokes uttered by himself or people around. Empty but memorable, the memorable emptiness, huh, it sounded so contradictory, and absurd, like everything in the world. "Hey, don't be a cynic", he thought to himself. It's just a usual night out, to see the lights, to seek pleasure, "'cause pleasure is what the heart asks first" oh for god's sake, he disgusted his own pretentiousness, "don't quote any emily dickinson, you're not those f__king bourgeois art-school students, oh my, the word bourgeois itself is so bourgeois". He was always proud to be a working class, though actually there was nothing to be proud of. His anger just proved him to be a cynic which he denied earlier, and he was aware of it. He felt the dilemma. Oh even a trivial thought like this could be such intriguing. Easy baby, he was obviously too uptight, too serious. Yes, pleasure please. Pleasure was cheap, was primitive. Kicking leaves on the way back home, he felt the fallen leaves had thickened. Zipped up his jacket, he suddenly realized that winter would come soon, his favourite season.

on the road with you again, saw a stranger life decend

what constitues my favourite album of the year? of course it's not a rocket science so there is no formula. it just fits in/ clicks in/ kicks in. it may not be the most profound, meaningful, cool or melodic album of the year. sometimes my favourite may even be that neglected or forgotten album of the general public. funfairs & heartbreak of special needs and grown-ups of the lodger are respectively my most favourite in 2006 and 2007. it's always difficult to explain your fondness for someone / something so all i can say is that these are the albums i can listen to continuously without getting bored and these albums surely contain some sort of sentiments which get me everytime. Englishness. Melancholy. They get me everytime. when I first listen to Primitive World of Littl'ans, I know this one will be my favourite this year, though i also like that of sigur ros and dirty pretty things (oh yes, i like to rank rasn high, my taste and ears have problem) very much. The voice of Andrew Aveling is so tender and sweet, but he sings the wayward songs, the songs about the (primitive) life in a metropolitan city called London, the metropolitan blue. sometimes their songs remind me of those of the smiths, though Andrew is definitely not as morbid as Moz.

so, i was caged in my head, i was caged in my room, i was caged in the city, i have no particular person to meet, I have no particular thing to do, i just get on this ennui by playing the songs i like in my head, and i find freedom in my cage.

"Looked out
to the street up till now
at the crowd
through my window
sang along to the song
that played out
in my head laid in bed
watched the day go"

- Our Way, Littl'ans


Primitive World - Littl'ans

beware! beware! his flashing eyes, his floating hair!

A heart shouldn't be stolen too often, too much. I was already mesmerised by some, who make my life empty but rapturous, so if i was to grasp with reality the so-called normality day-to-day 9-6 no alarms no surprises work life reality, i should avoid indulging myself too much in any sedative material, but as i declared from day one by the name of the blog, i of course would not mind if my heart was stolen again in the neptune's dawn.

bian yuan the minstrel all at sea, together with polka dots liu hao, wicked xiao hong and prince of cuteness guan zheng, the beijing 4 pieces Joyside have made a very brief dragonfly visit to hong kong on 10/10. Shambolic and dynamic, in this moment joyside is absolutely beautiful, they are eager to have everything, they want the world, but at the same time they don't give a fuck to everything, to the world. They once said that what they wanted was our money, but i think it is our soul, or at least our sanity, is what they want. Click to douban and read those frenetic love letters/memoirs from their (male) fans/friends, you will see what i mean, they have the magic to turn their fans either to a chronic drunkard or a sentimental novelist. They may grow bigger, stronger, conquer the world or just remain to be your favourite tavern band, who knows about tomorrow? For sure in this very moment they burn so bright that sometimes i doubt their flame may scorch them inside like sister lunatic. Musically, they strike me as very new york dolls punk (or glam?), but of course i shouldn't categorise them as i only have their latest album and ep. They played most of the songs in Booze at Neptune's Dawn in the gig of hong kong and ended with 20th Century Boy. "Could I revive within me, her symphony and songs, to such a deep delight it would win me." Yes, this gang of gin from beijing does remind me of Coleridge, intoxicated and sentimental. Captivated, let me close my eyes with holy dread, for I on honey-dew hath fed, and drunk the milk of Paradise.

In one of their interviews the bassist Liu Hao once said, "truthfulness, wilfulness and sensitivity are what the band have in common and those have stayed unchanged", so no matter they really become big or just remain to be the favouite of d-22 in the future, this is the word, remember.




Though the beijing 4 pieces probably would only quote johnny thunders as their influence, yes, i deliberately draw the reference to another london 4 pieces, the influence was certainly there.



xiao hong and bian yuan


(thanks for the mini cd mr nowhere, my mandarin was too shit, sorry, i really like to watch you/your band again)

All farewells should be sudden

1 Oct 2008, a bank holiday, I was tidying up my messy bookshelves and drawers as usual (my routine on every holiday without any accomplishment), I decovered an old notebook which I used in london, within which there's some doodling, hand-drawn maps (couldn't afford to buy a proper A-Z London map), addresses, websites, unknown passwords, phone numbers. While i was musing about this pile of nostalgic yellowed and bug-bitten paper, i saw a monstrous black bug , i lost my head, killed it, was nervous if there were more inside, struggled if to throw it away or keep it whatsoever. sadly the decision was to throw it away, but I was feeling some part of me was being thrown away also. i cling to history and memory. a bad omen.

and evening came i read that news about the split of dirty pretty things. Yes, i want to write some sort of memorial but first, i was too shell-shocked to collect any thought, and then, I mean now, i become too calm to write anything. once you accept the fact, you lost the tragic feeling.

carlos barat is always regarded as the second best when being compared to peter doherty. I always try to be equal, as I think both gentlemen are equally important to the whole legend of that albion-arcadia stuff. The cruel fact is, dirty pretty things sells less than babyshambles. Fate. Blame it on the black star. Or personality decides the fate. Insecure and self-doubt, i could sense his uneasiness whenever he's on stage and this disoriented feeling proved to be interactive and reflective. maybe it explains why the gigs of dirty pretty things was never as exciting as babyshambles'.

having said that, i never doubt the craftsmanship of his songs writing. Personally, i love their latest album Romance At Short Notice more than their debut Waterloo To Anywhere. The frustration and anger in Waterloo To Anywhere is a bit too much and even my ears can taste the sour. Romance At Short Notice is on the other hand more playful, it fits so well for the noble aburdity of its members. I always like their propensity for foolery. Acutually one of those classic libertines moments are their silly mimics and farce. The tortured poets take their miserable existence by the sheer light-heartedness... aye, i start talking gibberish again. Pop and catchy songs with a few sincere moments, Romance At Short Notice is definite one of my favourite albums this year. Its commercial disaster is something I can never fathom.

so long, dirty pretty things, thanks for three years of good music. i wish all of you have a bright future cos' you definitely deserve to have one.




what? i said your concerts were less exciting as babyshambles? no no, i actually love the indie boys stripped shows.

you know you wanna run away

... but i don't expect you to run away so fast

all the best.

monday or tuesday

Lazy and indifferent, I went to office as usual, reading woolf online, as usual. so silent that i could only hear my own thought, if i was not too drowsy and transcending to other space. What did I come in here for? What did I want to find? My hands were empty. no more gibberish, no one wants poetry.

i like storm. crazy downpour and strong gust of wind, nature's periodic mischief, reminder of man as insect (insignificant, inept, useless and sometimes disgusting), but the time before storm is real horrendous, as if there is no more oxygen left in this planet, i can't breathe, i melt.

prayer for the rain, prayer for the storm, prayer for an extra morning to sleep late.(news that signal 8 will be hoisted at about 6:00pm, too soon too fast, so what will be tomorrow morning?)

Lazy and indifferent, actually i've got work to do, but it's just too boring so i opt to type all these meaningless words in blog. butterfly effect from lehman bros financial crisis? probably not, this office has its internal ulcer long before, but of course the situation is now "frost on the ice". there is/was earthquake in my office, this time i whine for the job, next time will i whine for not having job... too horrible to think about, for the one who needs money badly.

I always think i should be shinji in neon genesis evangelion (i like/hate him cos he is so similar to me, the useless whiner and coward) but the test said i am rei (i also don't like her, she is a "natural-born" masochist) so i do it again, just change one answer (actually i'm not sure about the answer) and the result is pen-pen, great, i love that drunk penguin.





What Neon Genesis Evangelion character are you?

let's put our futures behind us

"他們一起生活，共同創作，穿彼此的衣服，分享一切，包括死亡。"

so their story does not turn out to be like this, which we should be glad, though I thought it probably would be that way if they continue to live together, it's always dangerous to be too obsessive and intense.


"Take me to the place where you go
Where nobody knows, if it's night or day"

and by the way, i am just reading the biography of joe orton, and maybe my soul has slided away a bit, 'cause I have put my life in the hands of a dear rock n' roll band.

大隱隱於市

When did brett anderson become a laughing stock in the eyes of nme and its followers? I wonder if they have really paid any attention to his work. Without listening, verdict was already given that brett was no longer relevant or what they so-called "cool". For those who don't (or don't want to) understand this man but keep criticising him please just f--k off.

But I don't know if I understand this man either, though I'm still fond of him. If the first solo album was brett's declaration of his weariness of the music industry, the second one was surely a further step away from the usual game, yes, a step into the wilderness. Just a cello, a piano, guitars and human voices, sheer minimalism and DIY, simple but beautiful. Brett still drowned in his own little bleak world, sometimes blessed in the motherly tenderness, but mostly feeling hurt, by the shattered relationship, lovers of malicious exchange (Clowns), lingered as stale stagnation (Chinese Whispers) and eventually turned to long-lost perfect strangers (Knife Edge), for brett there was no future in love. It's personal but not necessarily trivial. People cringed at the lyrics like "war machines rust eternally" or "clowns tumbling into town", which I think they were beautiful imagery. It's the same old self-indulgent brett anderson, using his sci-fi words for his loveless love songs. My favourite song of the album remains to be "Back to You", the solo version was issued in the ep last year (remember that sad cartoon mv?) and i have the pleasure to hear it performed in the hong kong gig last year. Here the song was duet with Emmanuelle Seigner, a calm and estranged vocal, perfectly matched with the grey sky of brett.

The aged diva finally stepped down the stage and wiped away the last trace of her make-up. oh, the diva is in fact a man, witthered and wrinkled. Farewell to the psycho for sex and glue, now brett is a lonely man alone in his back garden, blessed in the void of London's wilderness, edifies to a different place, or wanders to Serpentine, musing on eternity expressed with every word, every breath. yes, may i call brett a dharma bum?


Brett Anderson - Wilderness
(i really love all those lonely photos of this album)

Your words dazzled me, but I like your words

Series of sleep talking, monologues of anxiety, self-reflection (or delusion?), almost a record of psychoanalysis, of a writer, a gambler, a fetishist and an addict. How many roles do you have, aware or unaware? Fill yourself with drinks, nicotine and obsession, alienate yourself from the world, the world which you despise, it's almost a self-indulgence, or you are just too clairvoyant.

We are the creatures of gravity, falling (我沒有因為漫長的下墜而進化至長出翅膀) and/or inept (如果沒法前行, 就到埗了麼?) This is the same old story (that same old rusty boring stinking shitty story, of you and me, hoping hopelessy).

a conundrum in hmv

The dilemma of buyer
to pick up a
soft porn or
that of metallica
on the cover?
on the way to cashier should i
let the sandmen over the body
or vice versa?
which one will make you
redder?

To live happily, we must go hidding

I romanticise absinthe. That must be dated from my teenage years when i was so in love with oscar wilde and found in his biography that wilde ended his desolate years in France by drinking cheap absinthe. What a melancholic and decadent drink. Verlaine became a scum, Van Gogh cut off his ear, all under the influence of green fairy, dangerous but essentially charming (and artistic). Sadly my wish to taste this green elixir have never been quite fulfilled.

It is not easy to find Absinthe in Hong Kong as this is never a place for bohemian. However, it is also not easy to find the green fairy in Europe, the aftermath of its general ban during 20th century. Wormwood, the main ingredient of Absinthe, explains the mysterious effect after consuming it as wormwood was said to have a chemical which produces similar effect of cannabis, causing hallucination, inspiration or waking up one's innermost dream, evil or uplifting, you name it.

My first sip of absinthe took place last year at my beloved rendezvous in pottinger street. The drink was not green in colour, as it had already blended with water and sugar. Two glasses of it I didn't slip under the table but i did slip down the slope in front of the bar. Effect of wormwood or just alcoholic intoxication? (and the girl at the bar had warned me of the high percentage of alcohol - 45%) Of course I'm not saying I was invincible but 45% should not be that formidable challenge, so will it be the effect of ... (but i had already consumed a bottle of red wine and several cocktails beforehand). Even the hangover was peculiar, i didn't feel headache but literally, I could not get off the bed, like i was not here nor there, or i was not myself, did van gogh cut off his ear under this state of mind?



I was not sure if I drank the real thing or not, it is said that there is no real absinthe nowadays. I tried again at agnes b. Formality was larger than anything. Cold water dripped from a crystal water fountain, melting the sugar cube placed on a slotted spoon and diluting the green fairy into an opal cloud. Elegant and pretentious. I was warned of its extra-high alcoholic percentage (something among 60%), but i found its extra-sweet taste more horrendous. I couldn't find any whimsical wake afterwards, though it's fun to undergo the whole set of ritual.



Devil's picnic was an interesting book which the author visited every corner of the world to find the forbidden fruit, which included absinthe. Wish I have his resources, sadly i have not. But what if there was serendipity? My awareness for the green remained sharp though I was in the paradise of hedonists. Loitering around, it's not difficult to find absinthe, in the name of absenta, in those backstreet wine shops of Bacelona. The price was really cheap, I asked the old lady of the shop if they were the real thing, of course resulted in communication breakdown, so no matter of what, i grabbed a bottle. I am waiting for the right moment to lose myself.



The search for the legendary absinthe is still on and on, of course the one which i most wanted is like this:







Tendency to escape

From what? Boredom? Duties? Daily life?

And how?

Physical escape. Useless. I reckon I may escape my boredom, duties and daily life by flying to a foreign land. But what if the place is not foreign anymore? Then inevitably it will turn to another daily life which I want to escape. Or just like a tribal member to live here and there without rooting yourself? Deep down, wherever I go, I will be the same person, with the same traits, thoughts, weaknesses and arrogance, so after all these years, I concluded that in addition to duties, boredom and daily life, what I mostly need to escape from is just myself.

Internal escape. That is the intoxication Baudelaire talked about. On wine, poetry, or virtue. Or some may find it on music, food, drug, sex or religion, whatever makes you forget yourself. aldous huxley's famous quote, been quoted too often, almost becomes a cliche, but still holds the truth, "most men and women lead lives at the worst so painful, at the best monotonous, poor and limited that the urge to escape longing to transcend themselves if only for a few moments, is and has always been one of the principal appetites of the soul".

... humm our soul longs for an escape.

I have much sympathy for those people who have to give up their intoxication by force, not according to one's own will, such as a court order or health problem. We need a few moments of insanity in order to stay sane. That imposed sanity, almost a twist in his sobriety.

Stop me, oh, stop me stop me if you think that you've heard this one before

I was asked by a language expert to rewrite a subject again, just like what we did in primary school (i.e.滕文), or some creative writing workshops that you have to write the same story again and again in different styles. I tried to write it in details, but it turned out to be copious, tried to be objective, but became paragraphs of subjective nonsense (so you have been warned). I paste it below, cos' i don't have anything to update my blog, this is a fake entry.


i've never seen such cute uniform


It's almost a month now since Glastonbury 2008. Oh yes, I finally have gone to Glastonbury!

According to the official source, Glastonbury Festival is the world's largest outdoor music festival. Since 1970, numerous performing units with different genres and styles, no matter internationally acclaimed or unknown and unsigned, there would always be a cutting-edge vibe for the units selected. However, this year was quite different. Although it claimed to promote the ethos of socio-environmental awareness, the line-up was absolutely commercial awareness. Jay-Z, James Blunt, Mark Ronson and Duffy, you would mistake the line-up as this week's Top 10 best selling albums of HMV. Having said that, it was such line-up (and the lukewarm ticket selling) that I could get hold of a ticket this year.

It took me about 4 hours to reach Glastonbury from London Victoria by National Express (and it hit Wiltshire in-between, oh my!) In London, there was still a happy sunny sky but once the coach arrived Glastonbury, the sky was grey and drizzled. Oh, was it a curse that each year glasto has to be end in muddy and dirty?

Tried not to be depressed by the weather and kept my spirit up, once my tent was set up, I rushed (of course i couldn't rush actually because of the slippery mud) to the first act that I would want to see, Lightspeed Champion at John Peel Stage. Refreshing and cute, you couldn't believe he's the alter ego of the dance group Test-Icicles. Drizzles sometimes turned to downpours, I ate my late lunch in wet and pissed while watching the hype Hoosiers, so was it this, Glastonbury? My whine was immediately pacified by The Gossip. Beth Ditto proved to be a charismatic diva, energetic no matter what her size was. Their set was ended by "Standing In The Way Of Control", totally uplifting. When evening came, I had to make my way to the Park Stage. As Pyramid Stage and Park Stage was situated diagonally (and with the help of the long and winding muddy road), it took me at least 45 minutes to go there. When I arrived, that was already the last part of John Cale. Hurried myself to the front row to pretend to be a fan of whoever that followed, it was announced that there would be a very special guest, and it turned out to be Franz Ferdinand. Cheered with the crowd, it was not a bad treat. Time ran fast in jolly pop and then it came to Dizzy Rascal. I don't know why but it's just too coincident that in order to see the act that followed, I had to tolerate Dizzy and pretended to be his fan, danced to the beat which i found loath, just like what I did last year. 45 minutes passed slowly and finally I could meet Mr Peter Doherty. Highlight of the day and highlight of the festival? For me it surely was. Taking off his cloak, picking up his guitar and lighting up a cigarette, his move was classy, if not aristocratic. No more shambolic, the solo set was delivered in a professional but still sincere manner, though most of the songs performed were taken from that shambolic period of the Libertines. Those insatiable and evil fans like me sometimes miss the whimpering urchin who was fragile and uncontrollable ... humm, but on a second thought, i want Peter to be happy and healthy so his present state is perfect. This was like the choice between Blake's Songs of Innocence and Songs of Experience, ha, I digress miles away. Back to the Park Stage, Peter dedicated "Albion" to Adam Ficek and Carlos Barat; it caused a wave of cheers. Lastly, "punky" Drew McConnell (oh that's his hairdo) on stage as second guitar and the night was ended in the massive choir of "Beg Steal and Borrow". My first day in Glastonbury, began in soggy and sludgy, wrapped up in blessed and elated.

Rain stopped on Saturday, seemed to be a good sign for the day. I tried to find the official merchandise but instead I found the daily Glasto News. Searched back to the Day 1 issue, there was a photo of Carlos in the site, so he must have been arrived on the first day and camped somewhere, tried hard to find that petit handsome but sometimes absurd guy. After having the rip-off lunch, rushed to John Peel Stage to see the first act of my day - The Teenagers, even though they were not groundbreaking, they were at least very entertaining. Having a bit more body exercise in Dance Tent by seeing XXTeens. The crowd (not a crowd actually, just about 30 people there) was quite lukewarm to their music and I felt bad for them as they were quite alright in my two pennies' worth. The sun was not hiding anymore so I could enjoy a sunny and exciting set of Neon Neon at the Other Stage. When evening came, I intended to go to Pyramid Stage to see Amy Winehouse, but literally, I couldn't find any space to go near the Pyramid Stage, not even a small gap to watch the big screen. Poor me could only stand nearby to hear the music, as I was quite fond of Winehouse's music. Her set was ended abruptly because she attacked an audience (again) and was forced to end her set ... humm. Hurried to get away from Jay-Z, I went to the Other Stage to see Massive Attack. They were still very good and atmospheric, though 3D clearly had Tourette's syndrome. Aroma of marijuana was everywhere, I really liked to stay but I had to go to the Park Stage for CSS, so goodbye to the trance, say hello to the cute. The stage was set in white balloons and feather, me together with groups of middle-aged men (??!) danced in the bliss of cuteness. So, sweet dream, Saturday night in Glastonbury.

Sunday indeed was full of sunshine. All muddy roads disappeared, they even began to crack by the dryness. As there was no particular act which I wanted to see, I spent half of the Sunday in wandering. There was a big market near the Bandstand and some interesting area in the Green Field. So glad was the discovery of such hippy vibe, so sad was that I didn't know Helsinki was actually in the Guardian Lounge at 4:30pm, while I was so idle and even stopped for a while to see John Mayer (unforgivable). My idleness ended when there was Goldfrapp on the Pyramid Stage. Although their music was that angelic hymn which I usually enjoyed, their set was a bit too long. Finally then there was someone who I really longed for - Leonard Cohen. The sun turned tender when "Dance Me To The End Of Love" was played, the old poet stole my soul. But I could not drown to this magical moment for long. I had another mission. Parted with the charming gentleman, I rushed to the Leftfield to meet another charming creature. The schedule said it would be Dirty Pretty Things but actually it was Carlos Barat's solo. He was nervous and insecure, as usual. He who tried to maintain the balance of life, was actually born with a storming heart. He who lived in the storming life, was actually so carefree and confident. Maybe that's why they were so attracted to each other. Carl's set was quite short but he did not use it to promote the new album of his current band, rather, most of the songs performed were also from The Libertines period. The set was begun by "Come Closer" (which urged that one and only to come closer as his resistance is low), he then dedicated "Music When The Lights Go Out" to Peter, was the declaration of xxxx too obvious? Reluctantly I had to say goodbye to Carlos and then it came to the "supposed to be" highlight of the whole event – the reunion of The Verve. It opened by "This Is Music" which sounded promising! Followed by series of hits in The Urban Hymns (and the massive karaoke). For sure that was a powerful performance and we all enjoyed it, but I felt something missing, I don't know what it was, maybe that was The Verve so I had a higher expectation, or maybe they did not perform "Blue" and "On Your Own" which I found it was a loss.

So that's it! I survived the mud, the dirt, the not-exaggerating-glasto-toilet experience and Glastonbury 2008! For its originality and relatively backwardness, for its hippy vibe and laid-back air, Glastonbury was unique as compared to other festivals in UK and Japan, go there, at least once.

when you wake you are still in dream or in awe

21 June 2008, still suffered from dizziness and jet lag, i rushed to roundhouse, a venue which made me think of emir kusturica's underground, oh, what a night, what a thrilling night.

dreamy and brutal, gentle and violent, its music was as contradictory as its own name, my bloody valentine. melodic whispering beneath layers of noise. 16 years of procrastination do not wear off its magic (and shields/butcher's youthful coyness). free earplugs were distributed at doors, a friendly reminder / factual warning of what kind of band mbv really was, albeit romanticised by its own myth. we were fed not only with kisses but also with those fierce and beautiful songs like "only shallow", "when you sleep", "i only said", "when you wake", "soft as snow", "come in alone" and "thorn", volume kept turning up. at last we were all pushed to the limit, with the last song "you made me realise" -

white light white heat, 20 minutes of sheer white noise, dazzling, i saw many put their fingers to their earplugged ears, in agony, struggling to remain, or being pushed to the wall by the noise like those being attacked by mysterious chinese kung fu, some were hypnotised, danced with their eyes closed, hands up, worshipped in awe. thanks for my already impaired hearing and my jet-lagged mind, i was among those hypnotised crowd, "don't fight it, feel it", or i didn't have to feel it, it's so overwhelming, just let yourself to be swallowed, visions and illusions, or just brain disorder.

the noise stopped. it finished. mbv left the stage and the shell-shocked crowd without any words. great. i wonder if i will ever have such sensational experience again.


you want to fall to the abyss of noise?

The Angelic Conversation

they hardly met . nor talked . but sang in different time and space . the same old songs . about the highs and the lows and the tos and the fros . how they twist and tore their love apart . if they would cherish each other again . he made dedication to him . he did the same and then worried if he would mind him singing a song . almost a dialogue . it's like if they both bear each other in their own vault of heart . communication in a subtle way . or a conversation in arcady ?

Now is the time

Always thought that i should have gone to glastonbury at least once in the lifetime, call it an event, an experience, a ritual, a pilgrimage. The ticket selling said something about the line-up this year, or that's the reason why I could finally get a ticket to the muddy road.

Low:
It's astounding to have jay-z, but I didn't hold much dislike to him, just not my cup of tea. What I found even more astounding was to have James Blunt, Mark Ronson, Duffy, Neil Diamond ... (the list goes on) such MOR acts, glasto was turning from xfm/bbc 1 to capital fm. Worse, my cousin liked Duffy so I had to tolerate this woman 45 mins (why butler why?) Worse x 2, i didn't know Helsinki was there too!!! i could only blame myself for not visiting and updating enough fdb.

High:
Having said that, of course I could still dig out a few acts out of hundreds to really enjoy myself. Lightspeed Champion, as cute as in its album. Entertaining and tight, massive Beth Ditto with The Gossip was so refreshing for those who trapped in the muddy ground and rainy sky. Franz Ferdinand, got me to the dance floor as usual. XXTeen, I always missed their show in london, great to see them in glasto (though they received cold reception). Pretended meself as teenager among the gang of The Teenagers. Surprised to see groups of middle-aged men in CSS set, but they were really fun and festive. Charming Leonard Cohen, do i just fall for anyone with suit and trilby and poems? Neon Neon was absolutely brilliant, high - with or without substance, i didn't care, i need that state of mind, if you've ever been high, I really love that SFA man. Bilo and Biggles, should i need any explanation?







maga-mud, sunburnt, insects, lack of hot shower, time-honoured glasto toilet experience - against all odds, a fool still found it enjoyable

in that dizzy night, all things surreal

it's so unreal for meeting the real banksy's work

i need some placebo for my uptight life

never thought the delivery was so prompt, nice art work, but i don't have a vinyl player, so it's just another collector item.

Have always known, know that i can't escape, yet can't accept

The sky is white as clay, with no sun.
Work has to be done.


shit, i am frightened.

蒼海桑田現實版

when harbour turns to gutter

four letters word(s)

Love, hate or fuxk?

No, I just mean those four letters code under the Jung Typology Test. Recently my office has organised a so-called self-improvement training and the first task was to find out what kind of person you really were (then you may know your own weaknesses and find ways to improve yourself these rubbish talk). I never believe you can really change your character or personality. It's a murder of your own soul, if you have to change. Saint or villain is almost inborn. So, villain or saint, which one are you?

Jung Test

I am the villain INFP (no, actually they are meek and kind, these useless traits). I think the analysis is quite accurate, especially it says most of the INFPs have imaginery friends in their childhood. Haha, yes indeed i'm one of those psychos (so don't feel strange if i talk and laugh to myself uncontrolledly). According to my career chart (there are numerous interesting analysis of Jung test on interent), lawyer is one of the most unsuitable jobs for INFP, no wonder i end up like what i am now. decaying.

it's crazy for me to make connection but i just can't help myself

so if the album's title "Romance at short notice" was based on that funny short story of Saki, what caught my eyes most was this little paragraph:

"Out through that window, three years ago to a day, her husband and her two young brothers went off for their day's shooting. They never came back. In crossing the moor to their favorite snipe-shooting ground they were all three engulfed in a treacherous piece of bog. It had been that dreadful wet summer, you know, and places that were safe in other years gave way suddenly without warning. Their bodies were never recovered. That was the dreadful part of it... Poor aunt always thinks that they will come back someday, they and the little brown spaniel that was lost with them, and walk in at that window just as they used to do. That is why the window is kept open every evening till it is quite dusk."

that is just the response to:
And I know where to find you, my love
In the same old flat by the river
The only way in was through the window

this is a hopeless fangirl.

I feel quite chuffed today cos' I finally received the frenchdog's gift. the envelope even has its "signature", cute!


Thank you Adam