The most recent instalment of my attempting to lighten the load of stuff that’s built up here over the decades turned out to be pretty cool. In 1976, or thereabouts, I purchased a Kays guitar from Leckies in Falkirk. This Woolies guitar always looked great but I never took it up but did some pre-wiiii (or however many i’s are involved) posing with it at down the ages. It’s been kicking about and in most recent times seemed bound for a charity shop. However, for some reason, I just couldn’t part with it. Some higher force was evidently guiding me toward yesterday when this instrument was adopted by a new owner. A Mr Eric Goulden, now that name is familiar. Where have I heard that?
Anyway within minutes the instrument was ringing out “Take the K.A.S.H” and other popular classics and sounding pretty chuffed with itself. In terms of recycling, this is another echelon entirely. Up there alongside the recent hook up with the Rev Murky Munster and them 78 RPM discs that were bound for a skip before I rescued them some 15+ years ago. I’m not being smug but I feel a certain satisfaction with regard to having given this stuff a new lease of life, like a caretaker or some sort of transplant for an inanimate object, extending the lifespan to be used as intended to be when manufactured, not languishing in landfill someplace assisting the planet’s demise. I’m getting a wee bit melodramatic now so I should can it. And of course, Eric and Amy have shows in Bristol, Portsmouth, Brighton and Birmingham over the next few days, if you’re in the vicinity cut along and see them. Noise up your friends and take them along too.
A constant desire to maintain some kind of karmic equilibrium is a priority for me. At the deepest, darkest depths of 10.35am on a Wednesday that can be a problem but there have been plenty circumstances lately where I realise that there’s not much to moan about in the grand scheme. Of course, the bigger picture is always difficult to see when the concentration is on some asinine detail that was never of importance in the first place.
It’s SXSW time. Well tomorrow, when intensive activity is focussed upon a gazillion acts. It’s a bit like the Edinburgh Fringe for music in as much as a couple of acts will score some kind of means to make the alleged hipsters pee their pants with faux excitement. I would like to go and experience it but hasn't it just got too big?
Give me Berlin Independence Days any ol’ time.