i-want-more

Oh god how I love to hate

...and suddenly, I was transported back to 1991.

Last Friday night I was out in Spitalfields with an old chum, Mr Johns. We first met on the bus from Cullompton to Exeter in our first week at 6th form college...if you're looking for detail, I think we may have bonded over the possible merits of The Wonderstuff's upcoming album release, Hup. I'd love to apologise for that, but I can't remember anything about the abovementioned album. However, I do remember Miles Hunt. I rest my case.

Topics of conversation included the things you get offered in the gents toilets at London clubs, flats and flatmates of yore, Primal Scream (specifically why Bobby Gillespie should stop making records right away), and the genius of MGMT.

Anyway, fat was chewed, chins wagged, tactical sandwiches/Twixes bought, and tentative plans to go and see Mudhoney in October were made, in an effort to relive ye golden days of grunge.

Mum's house has had an potential offer put in on it, and there's lots to think about. My poor head can barely take it. Last night I sat about the flat, wishing that everything would miraculously be made easy for me, while JJ tested our stereo system with the first Goldfrapp album [which, to my mind, is still the best they've done]. This lyric jumped out:

I'm wired to the world, that's how I know everything
I am superbrain
That's how they made me

That's how they made me, indeed.

posted by deafdisco @ 10:04 am