"Culture is a sort of theatre where various political and ideological causes engage one another. Far from being a placid realm of Apollonian gentility, culture can even be a battleground on which causes expose themselves to the light of day and contend with one another."

- Edward Said, 1935-2003.



Obituaries here and here.

"No one worked harder and longer than Said to awaken Americans to the damage their government's policies had done to the prospects for peace and justice in the Middle East. It cannot be said that he succeeded in that mission, but nor can it be said that he failed. If successive presidents refused to listen to Said's wise counsel, millions of citizens were influenced directly and indirectly by his speeches, writing and tireless advocacy. To the extent that there has been a broadening of sympathy for the cause of Palestine and Palestinians in the United States in recent years -- especially among younger Americans -- it can be traced in no small measure to the work of the world-renowned scholar, author, critic and activist who has died Thursday at age 67 after a long battle with leukemia."

The Edward Said Archive.

give us your gaffer tape



Huh, apparently it is called 'We Don't Play Guitars', not 'Guitar Anthem', so I feel silly now for telling people otherwise and being all smug. They probably have the right idea anyway: if a song has a chorus that catchy, why not make it the title, so people can track it down easily, eh? Regardless: I'm pretty sure it's single of the year so far. Out on Monday. Go get.

Today is quoting other people online day.

Blahblahflowers on 'Maps' by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs (that song is going to make so many people come round to this band, I always knew it would):

"...that guitar, so clean, so clear, and the crisp sound of the drums, a ten years late "fuck you" to grunge wanting purity through eating dirt, and her voice, as a solitary tear slides, almost unseen, down her cheek and she gives water to the dead, the dead relationship and she doesn't understand how it could be over... Her voice, the voice of the universe in slow torturous heat death, spinning slowly back to oblivion in the blak hole at the centre of creation, how could we possibly choose oblivion over her? Because they can't love us like she loves us. This is the language of the twenty-first century, bewilderment, pain, loss. "How can they hate us so much?" recast as the breakdown of a love affair...

Montezboy on the solution to having a bad day:

"now i wanna be in a punk band, does anyone want to start one with me, i will be the guy who dances around and shouts happy interjections like 'hey', i can probably growl and scream a bit too, as long as i can jump around the stage in an attention-seeking anticapitalist manner. we will sound like erase erratta crossed with vanity 6. i am right into this fantasy now. and we'll all wear ben's britney-marxist t-shirts on stage. with bikini briefs and legwarmers. and we will open for le tigre on their australian tour! and then we will become huge stars and do our own tour and make mystikal come out to support us! and through him we will meet the neptunes who will produce our second album the multigazillion-selling ALL LANDLORDS MUST DIE which will instigate GLOBAL PROLETARIAN REVOLUTION WITH UNLICENSED PLEASURE AS ITS ONLY AIM. and then britney will be wearing t-shirts with our picture on them."

(This especially rings true with me as someone who takes great pleasure in finally being able to get Pharell's "hey!" or "ho!" noises in place when singing along to 'Like I Love You' or various other Neps tunes...)

Some nutter on Barbelith on the sinister side of Paul McCartney:

"On a Beatles note, wasn't there something in the news last week about McCartney being involved in a punch-up. Does anyone know who it was with? I'm betting on Ringo. A friend of mine has a theory that McCartney did away with Lennon and Harrison and is now just waiting for the right moment to take out Ringo. He reckons that the four of them were each given keys in the 60s that, when used in conjunction, open up a gateway to some secret treasure or parallel world. McCartney has got 3 of them now, so he's only got to get his hands on Ringo's key before he can open the gate. Expect some big changes soon after Ringo passes away, with McCartney at the centre of things. I expect it'll be a bit like volume 3 of Miracleman."

Vague impressions from the weekend:

1) The Isle of Wight is a nice place to visit, but I wouldn't want to live there.

2) The new Peaches album is a grower. It doesn't really kick in until 'Kick It', but from that point - through 'Operate', 'Tombstone, Baby' and 'Shake Yer Dix' in particular, it's great.

3) The version of 'Olio' that appears on The Rapture's Echoes is possibly the most ideal soundtrack to night-time driving.

4) Underworld is a lot better movie than people are saying. Big, loud, rain-drenched Goth-corn nonsense. Fun.

5) The sea can be very calming.

God, I wanted to update this blog properly this evening but the guy talking too loudly on his mobile across from me in the netcafe is driving me crazy. I will have to write something extensive and nice about my soulmate here at some point in the next couple of days, which I find tricky at least partly because I'm never in quite the right mindset when I find myself in front of a computer. And I would just say "Rec rocks beyond all reasonable comprehension", but then I might sound like too many people on the net I can't stand - using understatement to get past your emotional inelegance where romance is concerned is, I think, the mark of the cretin. We shall see.