I was in Manchester over the past few days, and my friend and I went on a magical musical adventure around the city, seeing some of the significant Mancunian music-related sites. This included a trip to Salford Lads Club (don't you love the fact that it's 'lads' rather than 'boys'?) to strike a heaven-knows-I'm-miserable-now, Smiths-esque pose, inspired by the famous shot in The Queen is Dead album sleeve.
Lisa Marie, May 2014
I think this is the first time I've appeared in my glasses on this blog, which feels somehow appropriate for the Smiths' aesthetic. I don't need them all the time - just for seeing details, like when I'm catching trains, and reading things from a distance, and when I fancy seeing everything in super-sharp focus, which is often the case when I'm going on devoted architectural wanderings...
One of the many reasons I love The Cat is that, when deciding what to wear to the David Bowie exhibition yesterday, I commented that 'the V&A calls for heels' and his response was 'absolutely' - not sarcastically but in honest agreement. Not everyone would concur with that, many would probably suggest flat shoes more appropriate on account of having to stand for so long, but The Cat is on the same wavelength as me.
So we were in agreement that heels had to be worn, but what else? My wardrobe is sadly lacking in 1970s glam wear so I just threw together something fun instead.
David Bowie: as iconically British as the K6 telephone box
And we both thoroughly enjoyed the exhibition. I wasn't convinced by the requirement of headphones at first, because I generally refuse audio guides as I prefer to take things in my own way, go at my own pace, double-back if need be, and share thoughts and observations with whoever I'm there with. But I did get used to the 'audio experience' - there were obviously sensors around the place so that when you came near to a video or display, the audio would change accordingly. In addition, there was music playing over public speakers... If this sounds a little overwhelming and disorientating, that's because it was. But, as I said, I did kind of adjust to it, and the way it worked still allowed you to go freeform. And I was amused when I removed my headphones at one point and a man near me was quietly singing along to whatever was on his headphones...
David Bowie exhibition (Image source: The Guardian)
But what of the exhibition generally? Well, someone, or a group of someones, obviously had a lot of fun putting it together. It certainly wasn't a staid exhibition of displays in glass cases but, rather, very immersive and creatively composed. It moved between the context in which David Bowie grew up, in post-war Britain and moving into the space race; the art, movies and books from which he drew influence to create his unique imagery and ideas; his creative processes and the manner in which he controls all aspects of his albums and shows, not just the music; his various personas and how they came about; his stage shows and music videos; and the ways in which he has influenced popular culture.
The Cat and I were talking afterwards about how we were both trying to imagine what it was like to witness the first emergence of Bowie - the context in which he appeared and how unexpected and different and shocking he was. We pondered what it would have been like to see the famous performance of Starman on Top of the Pops, the iconic and groundbreaking moment which was, for many, many people, the first introduction to Bowie... The thing is, it's still not hard to imagine what an astonishing and exciting moment this was, because his music and image is still thrilling, no matter how used we are to it now.
So if you're in London or can get to London, I absolutely recommend checking out the show. I believe that pre-sale tickets are completely sold out but there are still same-day tickets to be got. Or if you're lucky enough to have a friend who's a member, you could sweetly ask them to take you... I certainly wouldn't mind taking another friend along on my membership card - there was so much to take in, so much footage and such, that a repeat visit would be well worth it.
And, before I go, can I just say one more thing? Thank goodness for this amazing Bank Holiday weather! Springtime and warmth has come at last! Here's to hoping it sticks around. The Cat and I were actually able to enjoy a pleasant stroll after the exhibition, enjoying Hyde Park as the sun and warmth still lingered...
If you read my last post, you will have seen the neon rendering of graffiti on Park Hill in Sheffield. That piece of graffiti has become famous locally and, not wanting to lose the character of the building completely by scrubbing it too completely clean, the restoration kept it and literally highlighted it in lights.
Posting that image reminded me of another instance of northern neon love, which I encountered when I visited a friend in Wakefield and was browsing in the Hepworth Gallery.
12 Months of Love was a year-long project by two artists, Victoria Lucas and Richard William Wheater, which ran between Valentine's Day 2011 and 2012. Each month, a new love-based lyric was made in neon and mounted on the roof of a building in Wakefield, to intrigue and entertain passers-by and commuters on trains running nearby.
What a fun concept, don't you think? After all, who doesn't love neon? Okay, probably some people don't, but I certainly do. Who doesn't love a good love song though - whether it be sexy, giddy, heart-breaking or evoking any one of the many other manifestations of love? It would have been great fun to be a commuter in Wakefield on the first day of each month of that year, waiting to see what new lyric awaited you.
At the end of each lyric's run, the sign was auctioned off. That's definitely something I wouldn't mind having on the wall of my lounge room in my dream home... They did put together a book of all the signs, and there's pictures on their website, for those us who weren't lucky enough to score our own neon love lyric.
I wonder what lyric I would pick if I could have my own custom neon love sign... It would have to be something American, I think, from between the 1950s and 1980s... Perhaps a Blondie lyric? Any thoughts? What would you have?
The Google doodle for today is celebrating Edward Gorey's birthday. In my own nod to him, I decided to share my favourite Gashleycrumb Tiny...
For those who don't know, Edward Gorey is a wonderfully strange and macabre American illustrator. Young Neville above is taken from his book The Gashleycrumb Tinies, published in 1963, which recounts the tragically comical deaths of 26 children - one for each letter of the alphabet - in rhyming couplets. If you've not come across it, and you like your humour dark, I'd definitely recommend looking it up.
It's funny that Edward Gorey popped up today as I was just thinking of The Gashleycrumb Tinies the other day. I'd been listening to the Dresden Dolls and picked up my sketch book and a pencil to have a go at drawing up the image brought into my head by the song Mrs O off their album, Yes, Virginia.
Oh, Mrs O
Will you tell us where the naughty children go
Will you show
How the sky turned white and everybody froze
Heaven knows how they got into the fireplace
But everybody's saying grace
And trying to keep a happy face
And oh, Mrs O
Can you teach us how to keep from getting cold
Out we go and you watch us as we face the falling snow
What a show with our hairdryers aimed heavenwards
And fifty-foot extension cords
You really have a way with words...
The end result made me think of Edward Gorey's children, with their Victorian Gothic appearance and dark air.
Obviously, my drawing is a mere scribble of an amateur but I was pleased by the feel of it. Oh, and for the record, I have actually mastered the ability to draw decent faces but I ended up preferring the effect of the blank face on this occasion... Really, it's true!
And for those who don't know the Dresden Dolls, they're a duo from Boston who describe themselves as Brechtian cabaret punk. If that doesn't intrigue you enough to look into them, then probably nothing I say will.
I watched Rear Window for the first time ever recently. I thoroughly enjoyed it and can certainly see why it's considered to be such a classic. And, incidentally, I was tickled when it came to light that Grace Kelly's character shares the name Lisa with me.
Grace Kelly as a very glamorous Lisa in Rear Window (Image source)
It particularly amused both me and The Cat because her bubbly character contrasted with the serious (and occasionally grumpy) Jeff, stuck at home, was somewhat reminiscent of me and him, particularly as The Cat works from home (though out of choice, rather than being stuck in a wheelchair like the character in the movie).
I wouldn't consider Lisa at all an unusual name but, at the same time, it doesn't seem to crop up that often - for the names of characters, for famous personalities, or for people I meet in real life. And I'm always quietly chuffed when it does - especially when it is given to appealing characters, such as Grace Kelly's in Rear Window.
This goes back to my childhood, when I still remember being slightly upset by the Cat Stevens's song, Sad Lisa, because it distressed me that the only time I'd ever heard Lisa appear in a song, she was sad! I didn't know or understand any of the lyrics, except that the chorus repeated "Lisa, Lisa, sad Lisa, Lisa." Very upsetting for a young girl. More cheerful was my older brother and sister singing Happy Birthday, Lisa from The Simpsons.
Oh, and then there has been my life-long need to clarify that no, I was not named after Lisa Marie Presley. Though I struggle to convince people who know my mother because she is a big Elvis fan...
In more recent years, I have been infinitely pleased and endlessly intrigued by the fact that a girl called Lisa pops up in so many songs by one of my favourite bands, Belle & Sebastian.
The oh-so-wonderful Belle & Sebastian (Image source)
She first appears on the classic Tigermilk album, in She's Losing It, as Chelsea's friend. I think I may have squealed with delight and had to start the song over the first time I heard it, to make sure I hadn't imagined it. And now I always heartily sing along to the line "Who needs boys when there's Lisa around?" with my little actions, which involve a shrug as I sing "who" and pointing at myself with the "Lisa", followed by joyfully dancing around. At which The Cat always shakes his head in a despairing way...
She also gets fleeting references in Like Dylan in the Movies ("Lisa's kissing men like a long walk home...") and The Model ("And if you think you see with just your eyes, you're mad, because Lisa learnt a lot from putting on a blindfold...").
And then there's her starring role in Beautiful, off one of their EPs.
Is it the same girl in all the songs? In Beautiful, "they let Lisa go blind, in The Model, she puts on a blindfold. Chelsea's the one who's "losing it" on Tigermilk while Lisa's "only slightly mental" in Beautiful but it sounds as though it could be the same Lisa in both songs. Why wouldn't they use different names if it wasn't the same character? And I always wonder if she's based on a real girl and, if so, who she is...
And finally, as I recently discovered, there's this Lisa, which greatly amuses me:
Apple's ground-breaking Lisa computer, released the year of my birth, no less.
Is it just me, or does anyone else get like this when they hear their name used?
Happy New Year, dear readers! Hope you all had a fabulous time seeing out 2012 and seeing in 2013.
I've actually found myself with a New Year's resolution this year. I haven't bothered with one for years and years. But, this New Year's Eve, an incident occurred to inspire me to make a pledge...
So, I ended up opting for a pretty quiet New Year's Eve. To help with the countdown, however, I decided to compose a party soundtrack, counting down (or up) from the beginning of the 1980s, when I was born.
1984: Girls Just Wanna Have Fun, Cyndi Lauper (Image source)
It was compiled in a quite quick and dirty fashion. I just opened up Wikipedia and looked up the singles that made the charts each year, picking out one that was suitably upbeat and had played some part in my life.
1987: Sweet Child o' Mine, Guns 'n' Roses (Image source)
I wasn't being a perfectionist about the actual release date or anything like that. So long as a song was in the charts in the year it represented, that was fine by me...
1992: Motocycle Emptiness, Manic Street Preachers (Image source)
I wasn't agonising over making sure all my favourite bands found a place in there. I wasn't bothering to think beyond the charts or pull out obscure releases. It was just a party soundtrack, after all.
'Hang on a second', I thought to myself. 'These chart lists are becoming less and less saturated with songs I love... or even know...' There was a sense of relief every time I spotted something with which I genuinely had any affinity...
I managed to squeeze something out of 2010 but then it dried up. The problem is, I've been spending the last few years discovering new music, but new music to me, not genuinely new...
So, feeling incredibly humbled and out of the loop, I swore to myself that I would pay more attention to new music this year. Even if I write most of it off, I want to at least know what's going on out there. Even if I end up just going for things with a retro twist, like electro swing and modern close harmony groups such as the Puppini Sisters (hey, maybe I do know something!), at least I'll be informed.
After all, I always say that, even though I love all my classic music, vintage clothes and historic architecture, I love living now, in the twenty-first century. We have such rich pickings to choose from as we root around in the past, finding and keeping our favourite aspects from each decade. So, true to my seeking out the best of every time and era, I should weave more modern music into my listening, interspersed with Ella Fitzgerald and Frank Sinatra...
Does anyone else have any New Year's resolutions? Or does anyone else feel they should make a pledge to become a little more au fait with the modern world...?
I had a very glam Saturday. Not in any particularly exciting way, I'm afraid, just within the confines of my flat. It started with reading that a plaque is to be erected on the building in Heddon Street, Soho, which appears on the cover of David Bowie's The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars.
This inspired a '70s through to early '80s, glam rock through to electro-pop (hellooooo, Gary Numan!) all-day feast of music to ease the pain of coursework. I sometimes forget how fabulous this period of music was. I think the Cat was pleased to be having a change from the recent high rotation of 1940s and swing music too. We were both so enthused by the whole thing that we then went on to watch The Man Who Fell to Earth in the evening. That may have to be a story for another time, however, as I begun the mission of compiling screen shots to accompany a post but lost patience with it. I never realised what a task it is. I now have infinite admiration for you bloggers that do it frequently!
Instead, I will leave you with the most tragic of glam rock songs. Most people think I'm a bit strange for this but the first time I heard this song, I almost cried because I felt so sorry for that Starman, who just wanted to come and meet us but had to stay away for fear of blowing our minds. Spare a thought for dear Ziggy on this mild Sunday evening:
We salute you, Brixton-born David Bowie!
Sorry, what was that? Oh, you want some more Bowie? Well, I wouldn't say no to that:
Hurrah! Guy Fawkes Night tomorrow! Hope everyone has a cracker of a weekend! (Excuse the pun...)
And, actually, let's have a little more Patrick Wolf while I'm here:
The Libertine - Patrick Wolf
from the album, Wind in the Wire (2005)
I love androgynous, violin-playing, modern-Victorian-street-urchin Patrick Wolf, with his songs based in ancient mythology, the Cornish wilds and the literature of Virginia Woolf. So beautiful, so unique, so exhilarating. And perfect for this season - as the nights grow longer and the frosts set in, his first four albums go onto heavy rotation, particularly Wind in the Wires and Lycanthropy. But it continues to deeply upset me that his most recent album is complete and utter pants. I'll just have to go back to pretending that it never happened and that we're back in 2003:
Shhhhh! I'm not really here... I'm really doing coursework, I promise...
But seriously, I am working hard. I just had music on in the background to keep me motivated and this song came on.
I may technically be an adult, undertaking mature post-graduate study, but sitting here desperately doing my last minute homework before school start backs, I've clearly not matured much from being a school kid in that respect as this song rang a little too true...
So thought I'd take a quick break from my books to share it. Cute video too.
Anyone in London this weekend, the 10th and 11th September, should get themselves down to the Thames Festival. True, some of it will probably leave a lot to be desired but, having a quick squizz at the programme, it looks like there's some good music and dance events lined up - there's a jive dancing area, there's electro swing (which I've found snippets of online and am desperate to get to a live show), and I'm sure there's lots more. And, you know, the parade of boats will probably be quaint and fun, if you can get a good spot!
But, the best thing will surely be if you get yourself a ticket for the SS Atlantica event - a 1930s-themed evening onboard an art deco boat, promising to take you back to the golden age of glamour. Sounds divine...
I'm sad to be missing it all, but I'm off to Scotland for the next five days, so that should make up for it! In fact, I ought to be packing right now...
