Saturday, 28 February 2009

Crystal Stilts

At Bardens Boudoir on Thursday 26th of February 2009, I was determined to get to the front row. Why, my dearest readers ask. I will not go into details, but with small venues oftentimes you get a rough deal, bad sound but you can reach and grab. Reach and grab?! Anyway, congratulating myself on not forgetting to take my earplugs I survived two bands whose names I would rather not mention as, I trust, they may have cult following and, besides, they may be good and perhaps I was too tired to notice, which is more than likely. Having ended up in the first row, I could enjoy Crystal Stilts who did not disappoint me. Apart from an attempt to kill my friend-in-first-row with a mic stand, it was a great gig. I kept earplugs in so my reception was skewed and I do admit, without the keyboard player, interaction with audience would have been non-existent so I deeply regret he is not in the only picture that made sense but I am sure my dearest readers know how to find his images on the internet or the band's for that matter as the above one is, historically, poor.

Fleet Foxes

As opposed to The Walkmen, Fleet Foxes, proudly presented in the title, brought me to tears. Yes, indeed. Your devoted blogger was deeply moved by their performance at the Roundhouse on Tuesday the 24th of February 2009 (insignificant date), which may be, most probably, attributed to frequent acoustic references to dying and being no more. I no longer trust my taste, it turns out. Needless to say, it was a pleasure to see a band who enjoy being on stage and skillfully interact with their audience, devoted audience it must be said. Because I feel this review is going nowhere and my dearest readers are getting annoyed having read better reviews of Fleet Foxes performances, I leave them with a picture begging for mercy.

Friday, 20th February 2009, Scala

I thought I would put emphasis on the fact that it was a Friday and Scala as The Walkmen, being a fine live band, failed to make my day. Friday made my day. Nevertheless, as already mentioned, they sound just fine and undoubtedly made other people's day, they would have made their Monday even. As a tribute, I present yet another annoying live photo and expect a torrent of abuse from my, as usual, dearest readers.

Tuesday, 17 February 2009

The Big Pink

If you would be so kind as to show any interest in what has recently made a huge impression on myself, I would, hesitantly, perhaps not quite certain, say The Big Pink, whose bad quality picture is featured above, as a tiny little support act in London on 16th February 2009. They are a London DUO.

The Aberdeen Bestiary

The night owl, translation from The Aberdeen Bestiary, more to be found at

Of the night-owl

'I am like the night-owl in its dwelling-place' (BSV, Psalmi, 101:7; NEB, Psalms, 102:6). The night-owl is a bird that loves the darkness of the night. It lives in decaying walls because it sets up house in the ruins of roofless dwellings. It shuns the light, flying at night in search of food.

In a mystic sense, the night-owl signifies Christ. Christ loves the darkness of night because he does not want sinners - who are represented by darkness - to die but to be converted and live (see Ezekiel, 18:32). For God the father so loved the world that he gave his son to death for the redemption of the world (see John, 3:16-17). That sinners are called 'darkness', is borne out by the apostle, saying: 'For ye were sometimes darkness, but now are ye light in the Lord' (Ephesians, 5:8).

The night-owl lives in the cracks in walls, as Christ wished to be born one of the Jewish people, saying: 'I am not sent but unto the lost sheep of the house of Israel' (Matthew, 15:24). But Christ is crushed in the cracks of the walls, because he is killed by the Jews.

Christ shuns the light in the sense that he detests and hates vainglory. For when he cared for a leper, in order to give us a lesson in humility,

Monday, 2 February 2009

Army Dreamers

Needless to say, it is one of the videos whose charm lays in simplicity relying on repetitive images.

Sheer madness.

Follow suit

Springtime, at last.