Finished six of the bass tracks tonight. I think they're sounding good... all things being equal. Which, of course, they're not. Need a name for the bass player now. The thing about names is - it's not really meant to be a funny book as such. Not the sort of book where the drummer is called Basher Skins and the singer is called Larry Inks. Britpop Dylan? Well, the songs are a bit wordy and a couple of them do have a Dylanish feel I think. Well... we'll see.
Back to work tomorrow. I was hoping to have the children's book finished by the end of August and I'm only half way through. Hey ho.
Noticed today that the bit where I write this posting has two little headings top right. One says Edit HTML and the other says Compose. I was wondering where my font and sizes bar had gone. Then I notoiced it was set the wrong one. I clicked Compose and the bar returned. Is this of use to Michael I wonder?
Good night... sweet dreams.
Tuesday, August 31, 2004
Travels of a Poet (7)
Number Three
I sat with a poet
In an old fashioned café
She had a baked potato
And a cup of tea
I had a number three*
*one sausage, one bacon, beans, tomatoes and chips.
I sat with a poet
In an old fashioned café
She had a baked potato
And a cup of tea
I had a number three*
*one sausage, one bacon, beans, tomatoes and chips.
Birmingham (Part 1)
Feel like I’ve landed
On another planet
Called Birmingham
When Lucas was suffering his lapse
In Star Wars Episode 2
Attack of the Defunct Imagination
Maybe his designers
Honed their skills
On Birmingham
As I wander around
I am trapped in a huge
Steel and concrete executive toy
Picking my way
Through the rubble and stubble
The building site moves in slow motion
Through the city and back
As it did thirty years ago
When I was half past boy
The building site’s a wandering sore
A crazy man-created monster plant
Cloned from the carcass of its past
Scattering its of vines and tines
Its seeds and spears
Willy-nilly across the park
The hard and dark
Bewitching and bemusing the inhabitants
Of Birmingham
On another planet
Called Birmingham
When Lucas was suffering his lapse
In Star Wars Episode 2
Attack of the Defunct Imagination
Maybe his designers
Honed their skills
On Birmingham
As I wander around
I am trapped in a huge
Steel and concrete executive toy
Picking my way
Through the rubble and stubble
The building site moves in slow motion
Through the city and back
As it did thirty years ago
When I was half past boy
The building site’s a wandering sore
A crazy man-created monster plant
Cloned from the carcass of its past
Scattering its of vines and tines
Its seeds and spears
Willy-nilly across the park
The hard and dark
Bewitching and bemusing the inhabitants
Of Birmingham
Monday, August 30, 2004
As Today Was a Holiday...
We had our holiday at home this year
Dad bought two tons of sand
And dumped it in the garden
He hired a huge spotlight
And tied it to the guttering
So it looked like the sun was blazing down
Like in Spain
Then we put on our cossies
And sat in deck chairs
Listening to a tape of ocean waves
It was dead realistic
Dad painted a washing-up powder box
With pound signs
And stuck a handle on it.
Then we kept pushing our money through the slot
Until it had all gone.
Dad said the ice-creams were a fiver
And mum said we couldn’t afford it.
It was dead realistic.
We paddled in a tin bath
Full of dirty water.
We played beach tennis
And had the beach to ourselves.
I cut my foot on a piece of glass
And had to go to hospital
For a jab.
We pretended we couldn’t speak the language.
It was dead realistic.
Next year dad says
We might have an Italian holiday
In Mrs Pasolini’s garden.
She lives next door.
(from The Monster That Ate the Universe)
Dad bought two tons of sand
And dumped it in the garden
He hired a huge spotlight
And tied it to the guttering
So it looked like the sun was blazing down
Like in Spain
Then we put on our cossies
And sat in deck chairs
Listening to a tape of ocean waves
It was dead realistic
Dad painted a washing-up powder box
With pound signs
And stuck a handle on it.
Then we kept pushing our money through the slot
Until it had all gone.
Dad said the ice-creams were a fiver
And mum said we couldn’t afford it.
It was dead realistic.
We paddled in a tin bath
Full of dirty water.
We played beach tennis
And had the beach to ourselves.
I cut my foot on a piece of glass
And had to go to hospital
For a jab.
We pretended we couldn’t speak the language.
It was dead realistic.
Next year dad says
We might have an Italian holiday
In Mrs Pasolini’s garden.
She lives next door.
(from The Monster That Ate the Universe)
Sunday, August 29, 2004
And There Were Drums
Well, I finished the drum tracks today. There are now twelve sparkling songs consisting of nothing but slightly dodgy drumming. I need a name for the drummer. Any suggestions? Working on Dan Dee at the moment but all suggestions greatly received.
Next up the bass lines!
Meanwhile Jilly has sorted out the rubber stamps in her corner of the office and actually completed a couple of mail art pieces. One passed on from Mr Leigh.
Next Michael's Floss project.
It's a holiday in the UK. You can tell that from the atrocious weather.
My daughter and her family are camping in Hastings at the moment. I hope their tent doesn't blow away.
Next up the bass lines!
Meanwhile Jilly has sorted out the rubber stamps in her corner of the office and actually completed a couple of mail art pieces. One passed on from Mr Leigh.
Next Michael's Floss project.
It's a holiday in the UK. You can tell that from the atrocious weather.
My daughter and her family are camping in Hastings at the moment. I hope their tent doesn't blow away.
Let There Be Drums
Started recording the drum tracks today. Five done and seven to go. Hope to do them tomorrow. I'm not a brilliant drummer and so I'm pretty confident that they'll sound pretty much like the not-very-good-drummer in the Molecules. The drums are on the landing and my PC is in my office so the mike leads have to stretch a long way. I've therefore enlisted the aid of Jilly to do the mixing business. Quite pleased with the results so far.
Saturday, August 28, 2004
Giving Up a Blog
I’m going to give up my other blog. Just don’t have the time. It’s pretty boring anyway. The Rabbit Press website is nearly ready and up and running.
More on that to come, don’t worry. And the first Rabbit Press book. More on that, too.
Meanwhile – still searching for a name for the fictional band. So far – The Mighty Molecules is favourite.
More on that to come, don’t worry. And the first Rabbit Press book. More on that, too.
Meanwhile – still searching for a name for the fictional band. So far – The Mighty Molecules is favourite.
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