Saturday, 20 December 2008

There is a boy who never goes out

Listening to: Jenny Lewis - Rabbit Fur Coat

Dialect word of the day: Foosty (Damp, dank)

The eagle eyed amongst you will have noticed that my blogging has been far more frequent in recent days. Rest assured my life has not suddenly become radically more vivid and interesting, it is solely due to Jess being away and in order to stave off the boredom, I will probably spend the next few days recording my humdrum existence and passing thoughts in excruciating detail, so apologies in advance. For the next week think of me as a low rent Charles Pooter for the generation.

I actually ventured outside the flat for the first time in three days today and sauntered into town, it struck me how very attached I have become to Leith and the east end of Edinburgh (I still haven't worked out where one starts and the other stops) and what a wonderful place it is to live, the fact I can see the Salisbury Crags looming over my street never fails to take my breath away. I love the way the street thrums with life when Hibs are at home, I love the tenements and their air of benign neglect, I love the fact you're surrounded by a rich cultural history, but a history that doesn't appear in guidebooks, but reveals itself to you gradually.

I recently learned that as a young man beset with philosophical doubts and unsure how to make his way in the world, the essayist Thomas Carlyle underwent an epiphany, on Leith Walk, (of all places!) Such experiences are unverifiable and I am deeply sceptical about such 'conversions' but whatever happened profoundly shaped Carlyle's entire life and worldview. Whilst I lack the intellect to fully understand, let alone articulate what occurred to him, I find it fascinating that something so powerful and significant happened so close to where I live and in such an unlikely location.

Whilst I have probably gone of on a tangent a bit, the thrust of what I'm saying is that I can't imagine ever wanting to live anywhere else and I'm slowly starting to gain a sense of purpose and belonging which I have lacked for most of my adult life. Whilst I generally have a good memory for dates and places, the half decade that has passed since leaving University seems to have drifted by in one long mope, beset by indifference, rootlessness uncertainty, and brief periods of self pity. This may be a false dawn; so far my renewed sense of vigor has extended to ironing a few shirts and putting some Domestos down the lavvy, but to be happy with one's surrounding is probably a good sign. You never know one of these days I may even lower myself to do something as vulgar as to have a good time!


Madame DeFarge said...

Foosty? Now that takes me back.

I loved living in Edinburgh, although preferred living in Musselburgh, as Edinburgh became polluted with emotional memories of an irritating kind. I suspect that you live near where I used to work, so I can envisage what you describe. I dread to think what type of epiphany TC had on Leith Walk. A fascinating thought.

I feel as if I passed my 20s in a blur of self-imposed misery and only emerged when I met my husband to be. It certainly provided me with an oomph that has been lacking for a decade. So welcome to the world of self-propelled achievement!

Btw, the wor verfication is 'wastr'. Hum.

And enjoy Christmas and New Year too.

Pearl Previn said...

yes. i'm from albuquerque originally, and i'm still here.

funny coincidence... a hawk and a hacksaw (which consists of jeremy and heather) came into my work the other day. a couple of years ago, when they opened for of montreal, i told jeremy that i used one of their songs in a video project i did, and he asked me to send him a copy. he gave me his address and everything, alas i am too self deprecating about my work and lost the courage to send it.

i'd start with satanic panic in the attic. that's the of montreal album i began with. i really like the first track, lysergic bliss. there's this line in it that i relate to, "wondering how i'm managing to smile although i can't even pay my rent."

except, i don't really smile. and i'm not really lost in lysergic bliss; however, the song makes me smile. So i suppose it works in that way.

i'll check out sodastream.

and jenny lewis is amazing...
i saw her live this year after about a lifetime of adoration. during my childhood, i watched Troop Beverly Hills constantly. And my high school years were spent swaying to rilo kiley, so it was a pretty fruitful experience.

James said...

Sorry to hear you've had a somewhat bumpy start to the job. Hopefully will improve fast. If you're still in need of some cheer, may I humbly offer 4 of my favourite "More Tap than the Tap" moments of rock excess?

(4)Award for pretentiousness: Hugh Cornwell talking about the films of some porn star: "I wasn't previously familiar with his work". Work?

(3) Award for meddling with things best left alone: Rat Scabies, drummer with the Damned, has written a book about the quest for the Holy Grail.

(2) Award for general smuttiness: One of Thin Lizzy: "Anyone in the audience got a bit of Irish in you? Any of you girls like a bit of Irish in you?"

(1) My all-time favourite: there is film of Yes on stage in which the bass player, by this point rather advanced in years, comes on with a ridiculously large bass (it has two necks), falls to his knees, and needs to be heped up by a rodeo. Couldn't find it on Youtube just now - it should be a world-renowned classic.

rhinestonecatboy said...

Cheers James, I hope so! I do enjoy larking around at Holyrood very much indeed at the weekends so that is a terific solace to me!

I'd heard the Thin Lixxy one beofre and was very pleased to be reminded of it. The others were new to me and very pleasing.