28 June 2013 (Day 179) – Kitchen Table Blues

Here I am sitting at my kitchen table cold and unhappy.  I’m cold because our central heating unit has broken down.  I’m unhappy because the technician that came to fix it declared that the value unit (or something that sounds like that) needed to be removed and has taken it away to be repaired.  So now I’m p***ed off because we’ll have to wait another week before the repaired piece can be returned and reinstalled.  It also meant I had to work from home working from said cold kitchen table as I waited for the technician to arrive. 

Some people might think that working from home is an easy day’s work but it actually takes a great deal of discipline.  Whilst you aren’t distracted by your phone going off or people “popping by” to see you for any reason, other new distractions emerge.  There is your bed (as in “why don’t I just write on my laptop from the comfort of my bed?”), your TV (as in “why don’t I keep this on whilst I work?”), your mail box (as in “my mail should have arrived by now”) or your immediate surrounds (as in “why don’t I pop off to the supermarket to get something for lunch?”).  Sitting at the kitchen table allows me to overcome all of these but it does put me into close contact with my fridge and the urge to get something to eat or drink.  Compared to the other distractions, it’s the lesser of all evils.  Indeed, I use trips to the fridge as the means of resting my eyesight when it  starts to worsen from too much time on the laptop.

The other luxury I allow myself is in choice of listening matter.  As I’m alone in the house, I can choose anything irrespective of lyrical content.  No chance of offending anyone.  I can play things on my stereo system thus giving my ears a break from the earplugs of my iPod and, most importantly, I have access to my entire collection.

And so it is today as I play CDs from my plastic pending box.  My first selection is supposed to remind me of warmer climes;

(# 480) Popol Vuh – City Raga (1995)

Popol Vuh was a German experimental (i.e “Krautrock”) band formed by the late Florian Fricke in the 1970’s.  They produced numerous albums and a few soundtracks for German director Werner Herzog including Nosfertu The Vampire and Aguirre: The Wrath Of God in the process moving from music dominated by synthesizers to world music albeit with an experimental/ambient bent.   This album, as the title implies, takes its cue from Indian (as in the sub continent) music and the seven individual tracks fly by as if part of one longer piece but I'm unsure whther this is typical of their work.  Further investigation is necessary.

(# 481) Ben Folds – Ben Folds Live (2002)

This album is drawn from a solo tour of the United States in 2002.  It’s an enjoyable enough performance with songs drawn from his solo works and the Ben Folds Five.  The overall effect is more or less the same as listening to a piano man on a larger stage, a point made more explicit by the inclusion of Elton John’s Tiny Dancer.  Best Imitation Of Myself, Narcolepsy and The Luckiest come off best.  The seemingly off the cuff Rock This Bitch adds some colour and there is also his bizarre statement that his best known song Brick is about helping his first girlfriend have an abortion.  

(# 482) Shane Nicholson – Faith & Science (2006)

Formerly of Pretty Violet Stain and recently separated from wife Kasey Chambers, with whom he’s created two strong albums, Nicholson has produced some really solid albums of contemporary rock .  This is his second album and is full of songs about self doubt, personal struggle, hope and the healing powers of a strong relationship.  Everybody Loves You Know, Safe And Sound, I Can Change, Home and Stolen Car all seem to stem from deep wells of an interesting life.  The amusing Big In Japan sits well in contrast alongside such company.

(# 483) Dan Kelly And The Alpha Males – The Tabloid Blues (2004)

Dan Kelly is the nephew of Australia’s venerated Paul Kelly and is carving out a nice little niche for himself.  This was his first album with the Alpha Males which includes the leader of The Drones Gareth Liddiard.  Although the album cover is an attempt to portray a Blue Note album cover in orange, there is no jazz to be found here.  The first two thirds of the album is dominated by some of the best alternate rock to have emerged from an Australian Act over the last decade before settling into more reflective material on the run home.  The final track, River O Tears, is co composed with Liddiard and reminds me a little of Liddiard’s solo album.