Wednesday, 28 April 2004

prelude to rage against the machine

Morning. (even though I've been up since 8.30)

I am in a foul mood today as I got all of 3 hours sleep last night before somebody's very piercing burglar alarm went off, then another 4-5 hours or so before I had to get up to get ready for lectures, and prepare for the day.

So far it has been an exercise in preparing lots and achieving little - the final analysis coursework of the year was given out today (!!!) but it should be okay cos it's on a Debussy prelude and I would like to think I have a small advantage, given I'm a pianist and I've studied about 20 of the damn things. It's also a very short piece, but quite unlike anything else we've ever studied this year. Instead of sonata form sections dictated by key area, Debussy uses tonal 'domains' instead, which can be anything from diatonicism to chromaticism, pentatonicism, and even modal writing. (discerning Ionian mode from diatonic major and Aeolian mode from diatonic minor will take a lot of careful consideration, in particular...the two are 99% identical, if I might use such a sloppy phrase)

I should actually be in my 11-1 lecture now, but I have chosen to bunk it as the content for today is student presentations part 2 (my presentation was last Wednesday, and while it wasn't awful, it wasn't exactly brilliant, celestial sitting-on-the-clouds-and-beaming goodness either) and I, like the girl sitting next to me in analysis, considered that my time would be better spent attempting to get to grips with the gargantuan 4,000 word essay and other coursework bits than sit on my butt for another 2 hours. Besides which I feel half dead at the moment, and I'd probably have fallen asleep in the student presentations, which wouldn't have been good, considering they're all filmed for external marking.

Work status: All composition finished; (7 technical exercises + 2 big works) 1 orchestration remaining; (6 completed out of 7) 1,000 words written out of 4,000 (25%)

"It's not a fantasy, it's just the real thing, but sometimes a fantasy is all you need" (anon)

Saturday, 24 April 2004

living in this shithole house is mission impossible

Sorry I haven't posted for quite a while, things have been hectic with uni coursework and suchlike. I have twigged that due to various inconsiderate people (whose names I will not mention) playing loud music at untimely hours in the house, the optimal time to get up to work is very early indeed, this is why I have been going to bed at between 10.30 and 11pm, and arising before 7, usually around 6.45.

I awoke this morning and resorted to a highly childish, but tremendously satisfying, retaliation of last night's dull-thudding and thumping music by playing the entire contents of the MI2 soundtrack on near-full blast with max bass boost. This resulted in someone chucking a bucket of water at my window, most of which rather amusingly missed.

Anyhow, with this new work strategy in mind, I appear to be achieving more in a shorter amount of time. For example, over the entire month of Easter holidays I had written a 20-page composition, whereas in 4 days (not counting the Monday I arrived back in Leeds) I have completed all remaining composition, completed orchestration #5, started #6, (and I have to do 7 in all) and have even managed to find time to write 700 words of the gargantuan 4,000 word essay. Impressive stuff. I am sure the other reason for such a good work rate is the fact I haven't been out clubbing since I arrived back here on Monday, though.

Yesterday I took great pleasure in going for a walk past the mosque and up into Hyde Park, where I lay stretched out on some grass for over an hour, just drifting in and out of reality. Appropriately, my mate Phil messaged me to ask if I wanted to go for a couple of quick drinks at the Royal Park later, so I agreed. And there you have it ... in the 5 days I have been back I have spent £3.90 on pubbing/clubbing. Times certainly are changing at this villa ;)

Getting onto the internet to update this journal has been a different story altogether, though. Various people in the house (not naming names again) have taken it upon themselves to assume that I am somehow "responsible" for "sabotaging" the "network". I am guessing that they have made these assumptions based on the fact that everyone else in the house is buddy-buddy, and therefore I am the person most likely to be singled out as one with particularly evil machinations, conjuring up my box of hateful tricks in my dingy crap ass room.

Well, they got the dingy crap ass room bit right, but I don't appreciate comments being made behind my back about what I have or have not done. Again, someone (who will remain unnamed) should know all about this, having kicked off at me recently when I did the exact same thing to her.

I then concluded my MI2 ramblings by slipping my trainers on and going for a very pleasant walk up the road and to the local One-Stop, where I bought a copy of today's Daily Mail, because I was expressly looking for some homophobic msyoginistic white trash right-wing views today.

After reading through this newspaper, which like all things written by egomaniacs pretend to be so much more than they really deliver, I then drove into town to go to the bank, since the buttons on the fucking ATM last night got stuck, resulting in giving me £100 rather than £10, and I don't feel comfortable hanging around with such large sums of moolah on my person.

The Formula 1 (San Marino GP) qualifying was excellent, though I watched it before I went to the bank, meaning that this weblog entry isn't completely chronologically accurate, but who cares? anyhow, i put £2 on Button to qualify in pole position for my old man ... and obviously Button gets it, due to a rather timely mistake by that prat M Schumacher. So with 12-1 odds ... that's £25 to the better for the old boy. Bookies are incredibly stupid when it comes to Formula 1 - Autosport magazine is released on Friday, but we get our copy on Thursday as we have a subscription, meaning we can plot out what is going to happen before the bookies finalise their odds, so we have a fairly good idea what is going on. At the present rate of success in our gambilng efforts, we should easily make over £400 this F1 season, having netted just over £70 already since the start of the championship, in just 3 races. Which will come in very useful, of course.

I may have to go to the library later as I have to read up on my boring-as-shite essay, which is an unfortunate necessity. It seems to be that theorists, and especially music theorists, love to over-complicate things by introducing stupid complex words that have no meaning to anyone but themselves, the only purpose of which would appear to be to make them seem more competent in their particular field of study, whilst denigrating everyone else around them for having an amusingly 'inferior' vocabluary. The most idiotic example I can think of right now is a book by a "music" "historian" called Middleton. Middleton, aside from being the biggest ponce on the surface of the Earth since Julian Clary, goes as far as labelling songs 'analysis objects'. I mean for fuck's sake. If they want to get 50% of all sixth-form students into university they might do well to lower fees, rather than raise them, and second of all, to have course reading that is written in something that greater resembles the language of PLAIN ENGLISH. Fucking hell.

Tuesday, 13 April 2004

textual harassment and all that jazz

Hm, not really done much today. Awoke shortly before 11, decided to vacuum both my car and my dad's, had some Chinese buns and egg tarts for lunch, before writing a new song this afternoon, not merely piano but guitar, bass, low strings, drums, and vibes, as I have learnt how to multi-track ... woooo. Since then I have spent the majority of my time playing Crazy Taxi and trading messages with Clare. This made me happy :)



I will attempt to lie down shortly as I hurt my butt earlier while vacuuming the cars. It's quite an amusing story actually. See I was minding my own business, vacuuming, and I tripped on the power cord, and so I fall over, as you do, with the nozzle wedged firmly up my butt. These things really do happen to the best of us, don't they...



The efforts of learning jazz songs over Easter have paid off so far, with several new songs to add to my repertoire: The Closest Thing to Crazy, I Think It's Going to Rain Today, Mockingbird Song, With Or Without You, What a Difference a Day Made, Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow, Learning the Blues, and a couple more. Not bad.



Am in shame after playing badminton with my dad yesterday, and losing the last game to him. This is despite me winning the first two, when the silly sod "took a breather" in the middle game to go from 16-8 up to 21-19 lost. Haha. Must make a mental note not to play badminton on bank holidays, actually, as the bastard leisure centre people drive up the price from £8 to £12. And that's before drinks .. which is why we bring our own, when we are thinking.