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Tuesday, December 13, 2005

bad music kills the soul

Its currently one in the morning and my body feels like its just got up and is ready to start the day, yep folks, that can mean only one thing; my insomnia is creeping back, its just the beginning stages at the moment; that is to say I’m spending most of my nights drifting in and out of a very light unsatisfying sleep that is starting later and later at night (or is that earlier and earlier in the morning?). I don’t mind too much, it’s kind of nice to be an insomniac in a house full of sleep competents, I get a lot of time to think and be naked. But soon and with crushing inevitability the full-bore-an-hours-sleep-in-the-afternoon insomnia will be upon me.

Winter is a lot like insomnia, the nights seem to last forever and the last time you saw the sun seems like a decade ago, and winter with insomnia sometimes feels like hell.

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Music is important, bad music kills the soul and turns you bland, while good music lifts you and connects your head into a shared higher plane. It can change moods, think about that, certain air vibrations can change the way you feel; doesn’t that blow your mind?

While I have never been musical myself, although I think the world lost a good drummer when mother nature chose not to bless me with even the most basic sense of rhythm, I have always surrounded myself with musicians, all kinds: from acid trance techno Vodouisants to the humble singer songwriter playing open gig nights, from the live dance scientists thrashing there laptops like gods own control panel to the art school fuzz jammers. I have to admit that I don’t always like the music they make but do I love being round their spark, for me magic is defined as anything I will never understand, so by surrounding myself with musicians I am always in wonder.

One of my friends bands I have never had to just pretend I like is PLANETMAN (the names also a link, check out my mad haqer skillz!!11), a ska dub infusion with a punk edge so sharp the music is lifted out of the chilled mediocrity and plastic teenage angst that lesser bands not only normally fall into but seem throw themselves into. They describe there sound as “kung-fu rock and roll” and I can’t think of a better way of describing being musically kicked in the balls and having my Dim-Mak dance gland pressure point jabbed.

Rawk driven funky shout reggae punk for grown ups? Sign me the fuck up!

If that sounds your sort of thing check out here CLICKETY

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