I’m sitting here in my workspace, trying to write something but my fingers only manage to push these few buttons you are now reading. Did I say I’m in the office? I should be busy working but the network server is down and I’m too much into listening to Xavier Cugat right now.
I’ve been listening to stuff my grandpa would approve of, Nat King Cole’s Spanish recordings.
If he’s alive today, we might get along. We’d watch Wong Kar-Wai movies together and he’d love it. I say he’d love it because my grandma didn’t. They were constantly at opposite ends with each other. But she took me and my sister to watch Fallen Angels in a small dodgy cinema when we were too young to go alone. People walked off halfway through the film while my grandma merely just complained about the camera angles. I knew she was being patient with us and our love for things she didn’t understand. I don’t know any adult who’d take a minor to watch a Wong Kar-Wai film either. But I think my grandpa would if he could.
I expected a lot more from Death Cab. It was good, but it could’ve been so much better. Ben Gibbard looked tired. He lost weight but I think he should lose his mutton chops and contact lenses. The venue was packed and we were told that no photography was allowed, but we knew it was just for the sake of formality. I’ve come to realize that I prefer the badly ventilated club without proper sitting areas, cigarette smoke marinate and empty beer bottle decorated floors. Where band merchandise don’t qualify for presence. I think I have made Explosions in the Sky the standard, for me at least.
I finally updated my Muxtape playlist too. Enjoy.