morning

was several hours ago. so this title is a bit of a misnomer. it's been an interesting week. back in college at last. mid-october? ridiculous! scandinavian cinema is fascinating, british cinema intriguing and principles of performance and technology is alternately baffling and hilarious. so it'll be an interesting term if nothing else.

thursday night i went to see the long blondes in crawdaddy and was delightfully entertained. i was a little perturbed to be surrounded by some seriously hardcore fans who knew all the words. i've been listening to this band for, oh about three weeks, while these fans have clearly known about them for a lot longer, even if they've yet to release an album! they were great though, irrespective of their crazy fans.

then i went off with my friend to the hub for loreana rushe's pandamonium night. having been unable for whatever reason to go until now, i was quite excited about it all. as i walked in clap your hands say yeah were being played, and over the next few hours i heard great tunes from the likes of le tigre (always makes me smile!), jens lekman, the klaxons (although i only discovered that after some frantic back and forth discussions with loreana over myspace) and, of course, many others. great night. and i spent most of it wandering about talking to randomers as my friend got with some random girl. a good night so!

although friday morning and my discussion with my dissertation supervisor was less than enjoyable. a great discussion, but i felt like muck. on friday night i went to see festen in the gate, hardly the best hangover cure, but a remarkable play nonetheless. the performances were all fantastic, the set was inspired and the use of space, imagined and real, was marvellous.

last night however i was quite disappointed. although the reviews suggested otherwise, i had high hopes for the outkast vehicle idlewild. over the last decade they've established themselves as a formidable force not only in the world of hip-hop but in the landscape of pop music. who doesn't know ms jackson and hey ya? beyond the scope of their singles, their albums never fail to deliver a bizarre melange of inspired genius, as big boi and andré 3000 bob and weave between gangster postures and introspective self-questioning. and yet their film was so painfully traditional in both its form and content. big boi deals with crazy wife? andré shows the inexperienced singer how to get along? ack, i can't even say how annoyed i am. and i thought that, with lines like the following, that misogyny was beyond them:

I hate thinkin that these the future mommas
of our chillun, they fuckin a different nigga every time
they get the feelin to, I’m willin to go the extra kilo-meter
just to see my senorita get her pillow
on the side of my bed where no good ever stay

but no, they in no way stray from typical hollywood convention in any way, using the typical pan from the girl's feet up.

ok so i kind of lost what i was saying here. so i'll stop. and it's now wednesday, not sunday...

most recent acquisition: richie hawtin - transitions (cd/dvd)... mindblowing...