Leo Tolstoy (“Quote of the Day”)
All women want a mate. Tell them that at your own peril but it’s true. Better to be a corpse than a spinster. Oh, they claim there are other things to want and fight for them they do. But look closely. Listen to their conversation, read the books they read and the poetry they like and I’ll think you find that all of them – from the very old to the very young – have their eyes peeled for a partner. There’s no blame in it. Their mothers groom them, the dressmakers clothe them, the tutors teach them – to the highest of standards, but it’s all towards the same end is it not? It’s all towards the one purpose. To attach themselves to men. No wonder they hate us.
- Leo Tolstoy, The Kreutzer Sonata (adapted for stage by Nancy Harris – at the Gate Theatre, Notting Hill, London)
An Elephant on the Turntable
My Christmas present this time was a cheap USB turntable. Vinyl was something I have wanted to get back into a long time ago, having spent all my pocket money when I was growing up on records. Admittedly, what I bought was questionable until I was 18, still working my way through my father’s tastes to a certain degree (Thompson Twins, Simple Minds, U2, Meat Loaf, Fleetwood Mac). So there had to be some give and take. My first single with my very first record player was the Toy Dolls’ Nellie The Elephant (I was 10!) bought for me by my uncle. Admittedly, there was something quite satisfying when I found out a couple of years ago that the Toy Dolls… were a punk band! Cue smile slapped across my face!
Unfortunately, the first one I bought for myself was Paul McCartney’s We All Stand Together.
Bloody frogs. I am somewhat pleased to report that I redeemed myself, prior to my, 11th birthday by purchasing a 12” glow in the dark picture disk of Ray Parker Jnr’s Ghostbusters. Although like most people, there are a few questionable acquisitions over the years. However, it does explain my eclectic tastes now. Even then, I got into jazz through Herbie Hancock and made my way through to David Sanborn and Candy Dulfer; electronic music (JMJ, Thomas Dolby, Kraftwerk, Ryuichi Sakamoto, 808 State); buying my one and only Iron Maiden album for my 13th birthday – Seventh Son of a Seventh Son, and my first of many David Bowie albums at a local record fayre (it was Never Let Me Down – the bad one – and sorry to say, I LIKE IT!).
Growing up in the midlands, like many places, you’re either into dance music or rock music. There was no inbetween or wasn’t in the late ‘80s / early ‘90s. I didn’t know anybody who was into The Smiths or Morrissey until I was at college (I discovered Morrissey before the Smiths at 13, having loved Every Day is Like a Sunday on my sister’s Hits video collection that she had at the time. She was more into pop music, especially Michael Jackson) and there was certainly nobody getting into the Throwing Muses, the Lemonheads, Primal Scream… By this point, being a technology freak, I got into buying music on CD (even minidisk, a format I still like). Instead of university, I chose a year of voluntary work in Scotland, devouring Glasgow’s many many small second hand music stores – even on the minimal £33 a week allowance we got from the organisation.
It’s interesting to see how early on your interests in adult life started to emerge. I was 13 when I wanted to write (a songwriter, no less, although the song Nuclear Fission of Love thankfully remains in the bin of history that I deposited into), which itself has taken many twists and turns along the way. Unfortunately, my vinyl collection went the same way as the songwriting – in the bin (of a money-proving market seller’s grubby little hands for cash) – and strangely, I have acquired both the odd written song and 7” single in recent times. Thankfully, the lyrics have improved, as much as my taste in music (almost).
So here we are in 2012, an embryonic music collection and a lowly paid job to aid in its development. However, the point of introducing you to my strange musical world now, is a small rant about vinyl. Since Christmas, it hasn’t gone amiss to me that the price of vinyl is now… extortionate. I went to the same record shop at Christmas that I bought from as a teenager, as did my father before me, only to find them selling the same 7” singles that they couldn’t sell 20-25 years ago at twice the price! I’m sure you can find a pristine copy of Lou Reed’s Dirty Boulevard and be willing to pay a small fortune for it online or in a shop somewhere. It’s the principle. Equally, if you go into an albeit very good, multi-store second hand shop in London, you can guarantee that if you buy five vinyl albums in one go, you are £100 lighter. These aren’t brand new copies, they are SECOND HAND! And second hand copies of current bands are being sold for the same price that they were sold brand new; if not more!
And don’t get me started on the cost of new vinyl albums… I’ve seen the prices on Amazon.
For example, I’ve recently gotten into Florence in the Machine. I don’t want them on CD (strangely), I want the experience of holding and smelling the black lacquer in my hands. It’s amazing how quickly you realise MP3s have made music sound stale. I’m listening to a Charlotte Hatherley album, copied from the CD I bought in a charity shop two days ago, through my computer speakers. How much better would this be on vinyl? However, like Florence, you could probably guarantee that this will be a double album (no big problem), produced in very limited quantities (big problem for those of us on a limited income, assuming the artist/record company has produced it on vinyl – as most don’t) and at very, very, very high prices. Brand new, I’ve seen it for anything between £20-£25 a copy. Now, whether this is because I am on low money or it is the principle, something in me objects to paying that much for it – but I still want it. Tom Waits, a singer I have admired for over ten years, you want him on vinyl you pay through the nose. I’ve seen a copy of Swordfishtrombones for £30! I happened to look in the recent copy of Record Collector 2012 and most of his back catalogue is not far off that price mark. Admittedly, he is still a cult artist with a huge following, but even still… come on! Even albums I bought growing up, that quite frankly I wouldn’t be seen dead buying let alone playing ever again, are unbelievably expensive.
And don’t get me started on charity shops – £9 for a dog-eared copy of David Bowie’s Scary Monsters and Scary Creeps? I know they are raising money for good causes but if you want people to help you, you have to help them to do it. I already have a chip on my shoulder with them regarding so-called “First Edition” copies of books – THEY ARE NOT FIRST EDITIONS!! There are never that many produced that you can find one in every charity shop in the country. I have worked in publishing, I know what to look for! If this was Ebay and a collector bought from you when you are promoting an edition of the bible as a first edition (probably signed by the hand of God himself – probably his PA with a date stamp), why would they be hounding you for your money back and for you to be barred from selling on the site again? Because it is fraud.
And breathe… sorry, I don’t know what happened there.
Despite the popularity of vinyl reportedly being on the rise (a survey during Vinyl Week on BBC 6 Music at New Year 2011 states around 500,000 pieces of vinyl were produced and sold last year alone), it has now become a connoisseur market. I’ve seen rarer bottles of wine go for prices that are cheaper than vinyl records; I’m surprised they’re not trading it on the stock markets with gold.
Maybe it is a sign of aging or living on the edge of London – a theory I am happy to test. Everything raises its price with popularity and age. Although, having heard how much they pay sellers at that certain vinyl emporium, it makes you weep for them (not!). But then is it all down to money in the end, rather than the quality of the goods. They do have staff to pay, bills to maintain, stock to buy that won’t give them their profit margins. Sounds like the music industry as it was all over again.
NB It maybe me or my trusty USB turntable (it was cheap, unashamedly so), but be wary of buying albums like Icky Thump by The White Stripes on vinyl. The Meg White’s drums it appears are not stylus friendly and will make it jump for its life.
First Night Out After the Curfew
This is a good sign, I’m sat at the computer within half an hour of getting up with coffee brewing in the caffetiere at the side, Stealing Beauty soundtrack playing in the background (Portishead’s Glory Box at present) and through watery eyes I am making my way over to the play currently known as Bones. Along with every other conceivable title I have given it. I haven’t so much as given it the time of day of late but merely thrown small stones at it to see if it still lives. It does, just.
Having seen my first play of the year last night, Martin Crimp’s The Country at the Pleasance Theatre in Islington, I gave Bones the honour of time and attention until 3am this morning. Thanks must go to Tim Fountain’s So You Want To Be a Playwright? which I acquired from a charity bookshop in Palmers Green a few days ago. I never know whether to stay away from these kind of ‘Self Help’ guides or not – preferring to allow myself to find my own way through this, develop my own ‘voice’ my own way with the odd bit of guidance here and there. There must be something in this one, as I sat in a coffee shop in Crouch End yesterday afternoon under what I could only describe as ‘stage lighting’ (a dimly lit bulb at the back of the store) and rewrote the scene I am working on; and hereby breaking one of Mr Fountain’s rules in the process: never go back to what you have just written, always keep moving forward. If you don’t know what you’ve already done, why are you writing it in the first place? Well, let’s see…
Prior to my last encounter with the work I have been molding for the past three months, I have a day job and have endured the Christmas and New Year holidays. I’m currently on my first two week break from work in nearly two years and spent most of the past week dealing with payroll problems and none payment of wages. As any writer may tell you, it’s amazing how ‘real life’ ™ can take over your life en masse.
Sometimes a break is what you need; a bit of clarity is often a gift worth receiving. I wrote more last night than I had in a long time and have the impetus to now get this thing completed. I already have ideas for the next one brewing and by the time I get to the end, hopefully it won’t have turned into a stale cup of coffee.
Tom Stoppard (“Quote of the Day”)
Ruth:
The media. It sounds like a convention of spiritualists.
- Tom Stoppard, Night and Day
Simon Stephens (“Quote of the Day”)
That’s what makes parents angry. The things they recognise of themselves in their children. They love the characteristics their children share with their spouses.
- Simon Stephens, Wastwater
Sarah Kane (“Quote of the Day”)
Sometimes I turn around and catch the smell of you and I cannot fucking go on without expressing this terrible so fucking awful physical aching fucking longing I have for you. And I cannot believe that I can feel this for you and you feel nothing. Do you feel nothing?
(Silence.)
Do you feel nothing?
(Silence.)
And I go out at six in the morning and start my search for you. If I’ve dreamt a message of a street or a pub or a station I go there. And I wait for you.
(Silence.)
You know, I really feel like I’m being manipulated.
(Silence.)
I’ve never in my life had a problem giving another person what they want. But no one’s ever been able to do that for me. No one touches me, no one gets near me. But now you’ve touched me somewhere so fucking deep I can’t believe and I can’t be there for you. Because I can’t find you.
- Sarah Kane, 4.48 Psychosis
David Lewis (“Quote of the Day”)
Emma:
I really hope to God she’s broken up with that arsehole. You know he has a criminal record?Paul:
Young girls love bastards: that’s a fact… but they grow out of it
David Lewis – How to Be Happy, performing at the Orange Tree Theatre in Richmond, London until November 5th 2011
Anya Reiss (“Quote of the Day”)
Dana: Single life means double shots.
- Anya Reiss, The Acid Test, performed at the Roya l Court Theatre London (2011)
David Lynch (“Quote of the Day”)
There is something about wanting to make a dream place. In a good dream place there are forces at work that go against it. So it is tough.
- David Lynch, Purple Magazine
