Just a quick one – the inestimable Philip Palmer (who’s a much less scary man in person than his author photo might have you believe*) has very kindly played host to my marginal music taste in his regular Wednesday “SSF song-of-the-week” slot over on his own website. So go listen, why don’t you?
[ * He said that if I didn't say that he'd cut off all my toes. One at a time. With a garlic crusher. SRSLY. ]
This time next week, I’ll no doubt be sound-checking in preparation for this:
Yup, Aeroplane Attack’s first appearance at The Wedgewood Rooms, a former place of employment for three members of the band and the premier live music venue in Velcro City. And it’s a free gig on a Friday night – so if you’ve got no plans, head on down! Promises to be a night of goud loud tuneage, and I’m really looking forward to it… especially as I’ve borrowed a new echo box and am itching to deploy it over a large PA.
So, likely no FPB next week, much like last week (although my excuse last week was a train journey up to Manchester). It’s all go in my universe, as I do keep mentioning… so I’d best get on with it, eh?
Actually from last week, but easily good enough to carry over… it is, of course, The Eternal by Sonic Youth. If you’re a Sonic Youth fan already, you’ll be wanting to pick this up. If you’re not yet a fan, it’s accessible enough to be a good contemporary introduction to an utterly original band who’ve been gigging and recording almost as long as I’ve been alive. Go listen to ‘em.
Yeah, look at me compressing a number of sections into one. Such is the manner of my life at the moment, and – during the scant seconds I get to sit and consider it – I’m quite enjoying it that way, thank you very much!
No review writing has been committed for a while, but I’ve been getting a decent amount of reading packed into the schedule; currently about a third of the way through China Mieville’s The City & The City, which is a good story whose premise is handled with subtlety, though I’m finding the narrative voice a bit odd at times – often enough, in fact, that I may shift to reading the published version rather than the ARC in case what I’m seeing is a pre-copyedit state.
Still plenty on my freelance plate, though the light is visible at the end of a few tunnels (even as another seems to stretch itself out further). Futurismic is rolling along nicely; we got linked to at MetaFilter the other day, and while it didn’t bring an avalanche of traffic I’m really chuffed to see us there, because I’ve been following the MeFi feed for almost as long as I’ve had an internet presence – and hence appearing there is a little like getting to have a drink in the Cheers bar would be for television fans of a certain age.
What else has been happening? Well, adventures Northward, band practices and meetings (and plain old hang-outs), live shows (like the mighty Clutch), hunting down cardboard boxes so as to ship seventy-odd kilos (SRSLY) of unwanted books to a buyer… from the sublime to the mundane, it’s all go, basically.
So there’s just time to trumpet happily about the arrival of Charlie Stross’s new short fiction collection, Wireless, which arrived in the mail this week (and will be shouldering its way up the TBR array in the days to come).
Lovely!
Now, I’ve got stuff to be doing, so I’ll bid you all a good weekend. Take care!
It’s not quite a Little Red Corvette, but I’m a sucker for old British cars from the bottom end of the scale – and the Morris Minor is a classic example. You don’t see many of ‘em any more, let alone ones that have been modded up in a hotrod style:
Photography output has suffered from technical difficulties of late; for some reason my proper camera’s memory card refuses to mount on my computer, and the camera on my phone keeps telling me that “zoom is not available in this mode” – no matter which mode it’s in. Something to fix when I get a moment… which may not be for a little while, given the current state of my schedule. Which is why this’ll be a brief FPB, too!
I can be unequivocal with this week’s recommendation: you need to go and listen to the music of one Willem Maker. His new album New Moon Hand is quite simply amazing; as I put it in my review for Outshine:
Non-ironic roots Americana blues from a gravel-throated angel; the most beautiful and soulful record I’ve heard so far this year. Buy it.
Seriously.
Oh, don’t make me laugh! I’ve got no pending review commissions at the moment, so I’ve been dipping into my growing pile of read-for-pleasure titles, including a fair few from my lovely clients at PS Publishing. I keep meaning to do some Reading Journal stuff about ‘em, but priorities are – by necessity – currently focussed elsewhere.
This is a crunch month – two small projects to complete, and a developmental section of another to wrap up. Which – combined with all the other more regular tasks I have to do on a daily basis and my desire to take next weekend off for a trip up North – means I’m working twelve hour days at the moment. It’s tough, but it’s good. It’s also a reminder to my future self that scheduling is an integral part of this freelance gig. One that I really need to get better at… :-S
It’s been a busy week over at Futurismic, as is often the case at the start of a new month. Karen M Roberts’ “Awakening in Six Parts” went up on Monday, and I strongly suggest you read it – it’s a great story, and something quite different to what we’ve published before. It stuck with me for days after the first time I read it, and that’s got to be a sign of a strong story. Go see what you think, leave a comment.
New columnist Brenda Cooper has kicked off a good discussion with her debut column on artificial intelligence, as well. I love running Futurismic when we get some good comment traffic; it’s a joy to see people engaging with what we publish. 
None to speak of; been a quiet few weeks again, with the exception of a PS care package that included a copy of the trade edition of Powers: Secret Histories.
I quite deliberately hold off talking up PS books here at VCTB – not because I don’t think they’re good, but because I don’t think it’s appropriate given that it’s my job to do it elsewhere – I’m no shill. But I have to mention that Secret Histories really is a book of staggering scope (not to mention arm-straining size); I’ve never read a Tim Powers novel in my life, but I’ve still found myself utterly entranced by it.
I think it appeals to the same geeky part of me that adored technology catalogues and Haynes manuals as a kid, and the part of me that loved learning about cataloguing and bibliographical work when I was a library employee. It’s a taxonomical study, fanboy wig-out and DVD-extras in one package, beautifully laid out and full of commentary from Powers himself. Bloody fascinating.
Well, that’s more than I expected to write, which is often the way with FPB. But time waits for no scruff-bag, and I’m hoping to get enough work doen tonight to pop out to a gig later in the evening. As such, I’m going to bid you all a good weekend and get back to real work – take care!
Gonna be a pretty brief FPB this week; it’s a friend’s birthday bash this evening, and I’m well behind on my daily duties thanks to the ongoing mangling of my body-clock. I think I need to get out of the house in the daytime much more than I have; my diurnal cycle is offset from consensus reality by about five hours at the moment, and I doubt it’s doing me much good.
I did make it out of the house on Wednesday, though; I took a brisk stroll down to the seafront in the early evening. This is probably the best time of year to be in Velcro City; the days are long and the weather is clear, but the students are still busy wrapping up their years and the tourists have yet to descend like Asda-clad locusts. The city is fresh, bright and full of space. There is time to sit and watch, and think.
Even so, seeing a banana boat rolling in from the Caribbean triggers thoughts of places warmer, brighter and less familiar… I need to get out on the road again some time soon, I reckon.
It’s a mark of how busy I’ve been doing other stuff that I’ve not reviewed much new music this week, and that which I have isn’t worthy of due props. So I’ll do another recommendation from the most-played lists on my Last FM account: far and away, my most-played band are Idlewild, and much as most fans will tell you they got progressively less interesting as their career continued, I’m very fond of the later stuff. Warnings / Promises is probably my favourite; it’s folky post-punk (or is it punky post-folk?) style is bolstered by a simple production job that eschews fancy effects and frippery, and Roddy Woomble’s lyrics speak to me in a way that never fails to inspire. Great album; go listen.
The This is Not a Game review has returned with editorial comments and suggestions; gonna nail that sucker over the weekend.
Yup, hella busy on a couple of website projects still, hence my cave-mole lifestyle this week. Learning lots about MODx, though, which is good stuff.
Business as usual over at Futurismic; I got to talk about what the site means to me and what I try to achieve with it during yesterday’s recording of another Sofanauts podcast, which should be out on Sunday if you fancy listening to me blather on about teaching people the joys of thinking science fictionally about the non-fictional world we live in, and a lengthy but incoherent defence of the Mundane SF movement. Don’t worry, the other guests say plenty of interesting stuff; think of me as the comic relief.
Less than a week until gig number three; turns out that it’s now only a two-band line-up, which gives us a little more stage time in which to try out a work-in-progress tune and switch the set around a little. So lots of stuff to work on when we practice on Sunday…
The drought has broken! Interzone #222 continues TTA’s run of gorgeous and genuinely sf-nal cover art:
A couple of interesting titles from Tor UK, also: item the first is a paperback of John Scalzi’s Zoe’s Tale, which is tempting primarily because I’ve never read any of his fiction despite following the guy’s internet presence for a few years, and I’m curious to know what he’s like on the page.
Item the second is Winterstrike by the lovely Liz Williams. I’ve read a few books of hers before, but none of her ‘pure’ sf – a situation that needs rectifying.
And there was also a care package from my lovely clients PS Publishing, meaning that I’ve got (literally) piles of beautifully-printed books begging me to read them. There are worse problems to have, I think.
Right, that’s your lot – I’ve got stuff to do! Have yourselves a good long weekend, whatever you choose to do with it. Hasta luego!
This week’s photo comes at two removes from myself; it was taken with the camera of the one and only Rusty Sheriff (Aeroplane Attack’s drummer), taken by Spikey Mark (barman, soundman, DJ, tour manager, Transit van pilot extraordinaire and long-term good buddy), and taken of us (Aeroplane Attack) battering out the riffage at our show on Monday:
Yes, I am in there; look in the dark patch at the right. They keep me there to prevent me scaring women and small children away from the front of the crowd.
Actually not an album; it’s more of an EP, and I’m not entirely sure if it’s on release as anything other than a demo. But nonetheless I commend unto you the self-titled EP by Wraptors, who play something like a combination of The Hellacopters, King Crimson and Fugazi. Post-prog’n'roll – you heard it here first, kids.
You’ll note how I include this section every week, just to make myself feel bad for not having done any reviewing[1]. That said, I have actually been getting some reading in; it’s not like I’m short of stuff to talk about. Time[2], on the other hand…
Connecting neatly to that previous statement, everything’s still hellishly busy here in the office. This is a good thing; if there hadn’t been so many gigs to watch (and play) this week I’d probably be further ahead than I am, but next week is looking pretty sparse for extracurricular stuff, and hence ripe for some long evenings of deck-clearing. If the weather stays like it is, it’s not as if I’ll have many other options!
All is well at Futurismic; a good week for traffic again, and a sudden spate of posts about computer games. One of the things I like most about blogging is being in a position to see these themes bubble up out of the Zeitgeist; reminds me that the world’s just one big emergent system. Synchronicity is meaningless, but all the more beautiful and fascinating for that.
Nothing new for a second week running. Then again, it’s been a slow week for new music arriving, as well… the music and publishing industries have their own little biorhythms, too. All part of that Zeitgeist, y’see. 
As I did an Aeroplane Attack update separately, I think I’ve pretty much said my piece for the week, except to point out that playing one gig and going to watch two more in the same week is as tiring as it is fun, and it would be nice to be paid to do nothing else but make loud music or watch other people doing so. But if we were to start listing all the things that it would be nice to do for a living, we’d be here for hours! So I’ll spare us all the tedium and just wish you a good weekend – look after yourselves, OK?
[ 1 - You'll probably also note that it doesn't seem to have any effect, unless you're of a more forgiving nature than myself. ]
[ 2 - Stop me if you've heard this one before, yeah? ]
As you may recall me mentioning elsewhere and elsewhen, Aeroplane Attack – the band in which I do horrible things to guitar tones using small metal boxes full of electronic components – had our second gig this Monday just past. Here’s the pretty poster with our name on it:
And thanks to the good grace of one Matthew Emson (who seems to have appointed himself as Official Videographer of our meteoric[1] career) we have live footage of the set, too. The sound’s somewhat better in quality than the last video, though there’s not a lot of definition thanks to the hideous volume at which we play; nonetheless, it’s a plucky job for a little cameraphone, and another taste of melodic bombing-run fuzz from the mean streets of Velcro City:
And it seems we may well be playing again in a fortnight’s time – we must be doing something right. Either that, or word hasn’t gotten around to all the local promoters yet…
[ 1 - Yeah, meteoric - a bright flash and a fast fall to earth, AMIRITE? ]
There’s always been some graffiti and randomness in Velcro City, but it seems that this year everything’s kicking up a notch. Lots of people doing weird new guerrilla stuff like this, for example:
The Free Art Friday meme is picking up pace as well, with a number of people I know suddenly getting into making stuff and giving it away anonymously; it’s like street art in style (well, it can be, sometimes), but it’s made to be portable, not static, and its reappropriation by the public is not only assumed but desired. I love this sort of stuff, people breaking down barriers of participation and consumption, and the wall between artist and viewer, gallery and public space. If I had the time, I’d do more of it myself[1].
I’m gonna get all retro on your asses with AotW this time; Sub Pop have just released Enter The Vaselines, which is a deluxe repackaged version of 1992’s The Way Of The Vaselines, which in turn was a career retrospective that collected their two EPs and lone album recorded between 1986 and 1989. Kurt Cobain stimulated interest in this little-known Scottish indie-pop-proto-grunge band by covering “Molly’s Lips” and declaring them his favourite songwriters of all time; find out why, and indulge in a little bit of pop-cultural history. Quirky, faux-dumb clever and full of teenage sexual tension. A fascinating document (and a pleasant reminder of being fifteen, which is a rarity).
Well, I got the bulk of the This is Not a Game review done, and it’s now under the laser-eyes of Niall, who will doubtless point out some minor corrections and tweaks which will transform said review from the rambling thesis it is to something that people will actually be interested in reading. The man has a talent, I tell yah.
Which leaves me with (I think) no standing deadlines on reviews… which theoretically means I have time to catch up on reading journal entries here[2].
Currently reading the Clarke Award-winning Song of Time from Ian R MacLeod, and I have to say I’m more impressed than I expected to be; I’m about half way through and he’s still throwing in new levels of weirdness and estrangement to the story.
Yep, still busy, still loads of balls in the air, none of which are close enough to completion to be worth mentioning separately. Hoping to get some of them nailed down into a final trajectory within the next couple of weeks.
The server is now up and running properly, locked up safe and secure from predatory Russian botnets and port-scanning scriptkids, serving DNS information and HTML and behaving like something close to usable. It’s been quite the learning curve, but well worth the time investment – I think it’ll pay off quite well over the course of a few years, in fact. Now it’s time to get a first few production/live sites up on there and see how she holds up to some traffic.
It’s been a good brisk week for Futurismic, traffic-wise and comments-wise, which is always good to see. I’ve also announced the forthcoming column by author and futurist Brenda Cooper; Today’s Tomorrows will be doing the same sort of thing that I do when I blog at Futurismic, but going into greater depth on single subjects. It’s going to be good, so come along for the ride, why don’tcha?
Little to report on this front; second gig is this coming Monday, we’ve got a practice session the night before, everyone’s feeling good about it. We’re trying not to think about the logistical nightmare of getting all our kit to the venue and back without being able to borrow a buddy with a van and a few spare hours…
Oh, and also: I can haz nu gitarr:
Nope; can’t play it well, can’t afford it, don’t deserve it. Don’t care, either; it’s a proper Gibson Les Paul Standard, and I’m currently very much in lust with it.
None, nada, nil, zilch, zippo. I’ve been very good, too; I’ve passed the 50p bookstore in Albert Rodeo many times this week, and manfully resisted the siren song of old damp-bent Ace and DAW paperbacks lurking among Michael Crichton and Dan Brown titles…
That’s about your lot for this week; after last week’s barrage of excitement and big news, that’s probably a sign of the universe balancing itself, if only momentarily. More weirdness will doubtless arrive, sooner rather than later, but for now I’m going to get the day’s tasks done and head out for a beer. And as it’s been a good while since the last one, I might just go grab me a Friday Curry beforehand…
Have a good weekend, people. Hasta luego!
[ 1 - Or, more likely, do a little of it and then blame it for not having the time to write fiction. Can't say I don't know my failings, right? ]
[ 2 - Please note my use of the word "theoretically". ]
I have the same love/hate relationship with the country I live in as I have with Velcro City itself. On a day like today, with clear blues skies and a gentle breeze, I’m pleased to be sat here calmly, typing to the sound of traffic and birdsong with a long weekend approaching me; how could one find fault with England this afternoon?
Well, sometimes the bad things are literally too big to ignore:
Vermin and shysters; the BNP, only with better tailors and their mouths stuffed with plums. British-grown plums, of course. Wankers.
“Why worry about them,” people tell me. “No one takes them seriously.” Well, plenty of people take these seriously:
Graaaaaaaarrrrrgggghh.
Sorry, just needed to vent; it’s a common response to having left the building during the daytime. We now return you to our scheduled programmes.
One for the serious metal-heads this week: Daath are supposedly into Kabballah (the Hebrew mystical malarkey, rather than the wackadoo cult based upon it from which Madonna buys blessed mineral water) and all sorts of other stuff, but exactly how that affects their music I have no idea. Suffice to say that their new album The Concealers is that rarest of birds – a consistently powerful and heavy modern metal album with no filler and no gimmick-of-the-day. Go ahead, give your neck a workout.
The This is Not a Game review is half-written, as I managed to bash out one and a half thousand words on the train to London on Wednesday night. This is progress, not to mention the worst part of the process completed; now I just need to edit it up, supplement with quotes and digressions, polish and send. So, that’s an afternoon of the coming weekend taken care of…
Hey hey hey – it’s the first of May! Which is something to celebrate even if you disregard revitalised pagan festivals and political holidays spawned by a dying metanarrative, because it means there’s new fiction at Futurismic. This month I got to publish someone who lives little more than a stone’s throw away from me by comparison to our Stateside contributors; Stephen Gaskell’s “Under an Arctic Sky” is a geopolitical action-escape story done right, and you should go read it before leaving a comment to say what you thought of it. G’waaaaan.
So, as most of you who’ll be interested will already know, I was up in the Big Smoke on Wednesday night, watching Ian R MacLeod take the 2009 Arthur C Clarke Award for Song of Time, a book published by PS Publishing, for whom I am contractor-publicist. It was quite a moment, and even more so for Pete and Nicky (and Ian, obviously) than myself. It’s a very prestigious title for a small press like PS to accrue, and for it to happen in the company’s tenth year of business seems fitting, somehow.
I can’t tell you how satisfying it is to work with people who care deeply about what they do. Seeing Pete’s face as the winner was read out has pretty much made my month.
Work, work, work… there’s been a lot of catch-up this week as I recover from the setbacks of the beginning of April, but there’s a light at the end of the tunnel, I think. My server is up and running, and I’ve pretty much sussed the essential basics of running the thing, so now I can start using it properly as both a hosting and development environment. Some minor projects and tasks have been cleared off; some larger ones have mutated (mostly for the better), and a few more are looming on the horizon like braking supertankers. LIVING THE DREAM, YO.
[high-grade-geekery]I’ve finally abandoned all hope of learning to do anything with Drupal before the next ice age happens (if even that soon), and am defecting my loyalties to MODx, as recommended by good buddy Adam at Mallmus Media. In a nutshell, MODx looks to be a CMS that does everything all the others can do, but actually makes it possible for you to find all of the relevant options in one place without referring to a degree in database architectural philosophy that you don’t have. Plus it has a moderately revolutionary approach to theming and templates that fits much better with my personal design methodologies for larger projects… or, in other words, it makes more intuitive sense to me than the others I’ve tried before, and I think I’m going to enjoy development jobs much more as a result. Yay![/high-grade-geekery]
People tell us that our first gig went pretty well, despite some sound issues. The problem in a nutshell: the girl running the sound desk has never encountered a band who request that they not bother mic’ing up the amplifiers and simply run the kick, snare and vocals through the PA. End result: we didn’t sound quite right, but we still put in a decent showing and had a lot of fun. In case you were wondering how we sound, well, here’s a video recorded on a mobile phone. Horrible sound quality, but you’ll get an idea of where we’re coming from (and how loud we play); the tune is called “Song for Joseph”.
See? We don’t use the Vulcan bomber as our logo for nothing.
The next show is Monday 11th, and the sound guy will be someone we know a little better, so those debut issues should be sorted. We’re really looking forward to it; if you’re in the area, come along. I have tickets, if you’d like to buy one at the super-cheap advance rate of £2…
No time for sourcing images today, but there’s a fresh hardback copy of China Mieville’s The City & The City sat on my sofa alongside a trade paperback of Sean Williams‘ latest Astropolis novel, The Grand Conjunction.
A more unusual score comes in the form of How to Build Your Own Spaceship, a pop-sci book by Piers Bizony about “the science of personal space travel”, which the publisher was nice enough to send me after I emailed them about it[1]. Nice Jetsons vibe to the cover art:
Lovely. Now all I need is the time to read it…
Well, there you have it – it’s been a busy few weeks, but then I always say that, don’t I? But hey, the weekend’s here, and that’s got to be a good thing. I think I’ll wrap this up, finish the Futurismic free fiction round-up and spend a few well-earned hours sat on my arse with my nose in a book… I hope you find something nice to do as well. Laters!
[ 1 - And many thanks to the man DT for the tip-off on that one, too. ]
An appropriate title for today, in some respects; after a few weeks of very passable sunny (though brisk) weather, Velcro City is once again drowsing beneath a sky the same dull grey as pre-dotcom computer hardware, the pavements slick with a noncommittal rain that suggests even the elements can’t be bothered to do anything properly today – bank holiday Friday, innit, mush?
Appropriate or not, it seems I never FPB’d any of the shots from the Mono show[1] I caught the other week, so here you go:
Great band (as suggested by the liberal deployment of Fender Jazzmaster guitars, among other things). Good music for cold dismal weather, too.
Of course, if I was at Eastercon with the great and the good (and the weird) of British science fiction, I wouldn’t give a monkey’s about the weather. But I’m not, so I do. Selah.
So, yeah, last week. To cut a long story short: my girlfriend finished with me. She had some justification for being upset with me; whether her response was proportional to the issue in question given the prevailing circumstances of her life is something only she can judge. I’m gutted, but I’m getting on with stuff. Life’s too bloody busy to sit around and mope; I neither need nor deserve pity.
That’s about it.
Suitably enough, the best album I’ve heard in the last few weeks has been Mono’s Hymn To the Immortal Wind. Go buy it.
In a shock turn of events, I’m well behind on review writing – I need to get finished on Reading Science Fiction (eds. James Gunn et al), but that should be in some respects less challenging than a fiction review, given that it’s supposed to be criticism of criticism. Then again, I may prove to be fooling myself there. We’ll see.
I still haven’t reviewed Cyberabad Days, either, which is second on the priority stack. And last night I finished reading Chris Beckett’s Marcher, so I need to do a reading journal entry for that as well. If you want to read a thorough review of Marcher by someone better qualified, Niall’s Strange Horizons piece is the one you need.
It’s business as usual at the world’s foremost near-future science fiction webzine… at least as far as content rolling out of the door is concerned, anyway. I have a big list of emails that need to be sent regarding new fiction purchases for the coming months, and it’s high time I got them done.
In other news, I’m in the process of roping in a new columnist to the team, which looks like it may work out pretty well. It’ll be good to have another new voice on board. Now, have you read Tim Pratt’s story for this month yet? No? Well, get to it – it’s short but fun.
It’s all go in on the business side of life at the moment, largely thanks to me dropping the metaphorical balls of productivity last week and scrabbling to get them airborne again. This is the major upside of not being at Eastercon, namely having a whole long weekend to get myself back up to speed (and to schedule) with a bunch of different projects and tasks. Which should, in turn, distract me from thinking about how much I’d rather be at Eastercon.[2]
Plenty of other interesting stuff on the horizon, too. Myself and Adam Wintle of Mallmus Media are putting together a two-prong pitch for a fairly prestigious local project, which will be a lot of fun to do if we land it. We’ve also been swapping experiences with different CMS packages and hosting options, and I’m now pretty much convinced that it’s time to rent myself a proper VPS or dedicated server and stop pissing around with huckster hosting companies. Which means all I have to do is choose a good vendor and learn how to do command line sysadmin tasks… anyone got any Modafinil?
But hey, I’m busy, and there’s work in the inbox. That’s something to be grateful for.
So, it’s our first gig in just over a fortnight, which is pretty cool. We’re pretty confident that we’ve got our set sorted and rehearsed; now all there is to worry about are the logistical challenges of crowbarring a five-piece band who have four half-stack amps and a drum kit between them into the limited space available in the actual venue… well, that and selling more tickets, of course.
But hey, you can help with the latter by buying one yourself over the magical tubes of the intermuhwebs! Three quid for three bands, one of which is a frighteningly loud reincarnation of the fuzzy melodics of nineties grunge, shoegazer and alt-rock? That’s a bargain right there, so buy one right now.
Go on.
No fresh books in the last few weeks (or rather “no books in which I’m interested and haven’t yet already seen a different edition or binding of”), but the turn of the season means that the quarterly poetry mags are starting to arrive. So far we’ve had Obsessed With Pipework and the newly redesigned Iota… if the latter’s content has improved as much as its outer appearance, it’s going to be a real contender.
So, not the most gripping of FPBs, but what can I say – that’s just the way it works out sometimes, y’know? Anyway, you’re probably either at Eastercon or doing something else to enjoy the long weekend, and I’ve got stuff to do, so I’ll play the hand of mercy and shut the hell up. Have fun doing whatever it is you’re doing, and take care of yourselves. Hasta luego.
[ 1 - Like many venues nowadays, Digital uses those horrible light cans that have LEDs instead of incandescent bulbs. Great for the environment (and cheaper in the long run), but they make getting a decent shot of a live band with a cheap camera a virtual impossibility. Meh. Mono look good a bit blurred, anyhow. ]
[ 2 - Yeah, like that's gonna work. ]
I finally got around to making a pilgrimage to the government surplus store at the other end of town, and secured myself a desk of a size more suitable to a man with a prodigious amount of stuff to do… not to mention one under which I can actually stretch out my legs. This, ladies and gentlemen, is a revolution in my working environment – behold!
Granted, all of that desk space will doubtless be festooned with work-in-progress by the end of next week, but I thrive on a certain degree of controlled chaos. And look – two monitors! No more switching windows to see the effects of code changes on a website design[1]!
All is busy at The Dreaded Press, with new CDs arriving on an almost daily basis from established and unsigned acts alike, and regular contributions from a stable of four reviewers… but still I need more! Any volunteers out there?
Your recommended slice of audio bliss for the week is Hymn To The Immortal Wind, the new album from Japanese post-rock maestros Mono. My review of the album isn’t up yet, but my review of their show in Brighton a week ago tells you about as much as you need to know. Mono make atmospheric and poignant post-rock with the epic proportions of a snowcapped mountain range; absolutely beautiful, and the ideal tonic to the madness of the world. Listen, and be still.
Well, I’m mid-way through three different books (two novels, one non-fiction) and have a queue of reviews to write (mostly for here at VCTB or Futurismic, so no pressing deadlines except for the non-fiction title), but actual sit-down reviewing work has been thin on the ground of late. Much of my analytical energies (not to mention will to live) were drained by reading and reporting upon what must be the worst would-be novel I’ve yet encountered. Still, the silver lining shines: I’ve learned lots of new ways to not suck in my own fictional outpourings…
Things are ticking over nicely at Futurismic at the moment; it’s nearly new story time, and April sees us hosting a piece from a writer whose stature would have, to my mind at least, precluded him from bothering with a market as small as we are. It’s also a very different story to our normal fare; not that we always publish the same sort of stuff, but there’s a different type of Gonzo at work in this particular piece.
So keep your eyes peeled… it’ll be published next Wednesday, as well as Jonathan McCalmont’s Alternative Hugo for Best Dramatic Presentation, Long Form. Happy days!
As the lack of recent FPBs should indicate, there’s plenty of work in my inbox at the moment, and of various types. This is a good thing – who’s not glad of work when the news is full of redundancies? – but it’s really chewing away at my life in terms of scheduling. Trying to juggle a full-time freelance workload with editing two webzines and a relationship with someone who lives nearly 300 miles away is a new challenge, and I’d be lying if I said I’d not fumbled a ball or two. But nothing major, and I’m slowly getting the hang of it… though I’m realising that expecting to have more free time as a freelance may have been, if not naive, a little optimistic. Selah.
I’m not sure if it’s been mentioned here yet, but those who follow my ramblings on various social media will be aware that Aeroplane Attack have announced our live debut; the lovely ladies of Hong Kong Gardener’s Club have booked us for Saturday 25th April at the Havana Bar, just five minutes walk from the Hall of Mirrors. So, if you’re local to Velcro City, please consider popping along to witness the look of abject terror that will no doubt decorate my face as I play guitar to an audience for the first time ever… there’s a Facebook event with more details (including the other band on the line-up), and you can buy tickets in advance for a quid less than the door tax. Go on, you know you want to…
Oh, you’re busy that night? Well, it just so happens I can now announce our second live date as well! Subject to confirmation, we’ll be playing at the Edge of the Wedge on Monday 11th May; I don’t have details of line-up or door price for this yet, but I can say with confidence that they will be, in order, ‘good’ and ‘cheap or free’. So if you want to witness Velcro City’s foremost shoegazer-alt-rock revivalists in action, set one of those two dates aside and pop your earplugs in your pocket – we promise volume, melody and texture in approximately equal measure.
Relatively few arrivals this week; the only ones of note are two Neal Asher novels from Tor, namely Line War in paperback and Shadow of the Scorpion in hardback. I already have … Scorpion in ARC form from the Night Shade Books limited print run, but have yet to read it[2].
Well, there we have it – it feels good to knock out a proper FPB after a month or so of sporadic minimal updates. There’s definitely a cathartic component to it; maybe it’s a bit like journalling in that respect?
But anyway, enough waffle – there are things to do! have a great weekend, people – I surely intend to.
[ 2 - Quelle surprise - looking at the TBR shelf, I could probably do nothing but read for three months solid and still not get through the titles I have waiting for me. Still, better to have more books than you have time for than too few, right? ]
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