At the time of this writing, the world mourns Michael Jackson.
I’m upset. But not for the reason you may think. The world mourns him but what pisses me off is the pretencious nature that seems to engulf this “grief”. I load up my MSN contact list and lo and behold, 60% of them has a sappy sad PM for him.
You will be remembered MJ.
We will miss you MJ.
The world has lost another talented performer.
Bla..bla..bla, fucking bla. Let’s be honest here. None of you give a shit about him. None of you care a damn whether the lining of his cock hole stings when he pisses in the morning nor do you give two hoots if he snoozes his alarm 5 times before eventually rising. Now that he’s dead, you suddenly give a shit?
Or you’re just interested in jumping on the bandwagon hype of being in the middle of an “intense” topic of discussion?
I’m willing to bet my life that half of those alleged “sadden mourners” can’t even recite 10 songs of his by heart. Neither have they listened to any of his songs in the past 365 days of their lives.
Pretencious pricks.
So he’s dead now. I don’t give a shit. And really, why did he have to be white? He was a champion and an inspiration to the African Americans of his generation and trying to be white just cheapens that.
He’s gone and the only thing that crosses my mind now is how brilliant Liberian Girl is. That’s it. No teary goodbye. No sense of loss. No sadness. I don’t give a fuck.
Bah. You. Lucky bastards. I have nothing else to say to you guys. Hmph.
Date: August 13, 2009 (Thursday) Venue: Fort Canning Park, Singapore Ticket price: SGD75 (limited early bird, on sale from June 24); SGD95 (standard ticket, after pre-sale period); SGD85 group ticket (min 5 pax) * Early bird tickets include priority entry to concert grounds
Tickets will be on sale from June 24 at TDC. Ring up their hotline at +65 6296 2929 (from 9AM-6PM), or stop by one of their outlets in Singapore. Log on to their website, or check out LAMC Productions’ website, the organiser who is responsible for bringing Kaiser Chief, Red Jumpsuit Apparatus and Nine Inch Nail to Singapore.
Pilate was one of the bands that rotated on my Pandora playlist (back when they were still available to listeners across the globe), which I had marked as a favourite. I just loved the way Todd Clark, the lead, carried the vocals at the bridge like a fragile glass: “Please don’t you ask / Please don’t you ask me how it feels / She was the last / To light up my night and make me sing”. And then floated over so seamlessly to Chris Greenough’s guitar solo that was not too heavy nor too little for a climatic peak of the song.
It was a perfect moment in the song to close your eyes, have your emotions drink in the feel of the music and come undone with the solo, like a box of confetti bursting in the middle of a clean white room.
Upon listening to their debut album Caught by the Window, I learned to get used to the lightness of the band. They sauntered across their album quite alike to a bunch of lazy bums: Keeley’s lazy strokes on the snare, Clark’s vocal slurs that drag, Greenough and Bumrah’s riffs that, try as they may, could not really hit it properly when they do fast tracks like Perfect Thrill, Into Your Hideout and Overrated.
With this, it contributed a lot to making their ballads shine and choked with emotions, especially the abovementioned song, Alright and The Travel Song. Also the fact that they had the album perfectly wrapped with Endgame and A Reprise; from a meticulous wrapping with scotch tapes, and a carefully selected ribbon of the right length securing the package.
Pilate has since changed their band name to Pilot Speed and adapted a heavier outlook for their music in Self Control for Life’s Speedand Wooden Bones. I still prefer how they started off.
Download another nice song from their debut album, Alright, HERE.
Excuse me while I try to remind myself that Aimee Mann is not Fiona Apple, although they are vastly different.
So, let’s be over done with the whole why-is-Singapore-getting-another-good-act-while-Malaysia-is-left-with-nothing banter, and go straight down to business.
Thank you, Mojo, once again for giving us the heads up on the Grammy award winning folk singer swinging by Singapore for a gig at the Esplanade Concert Hall.
If you are not a hardcore fan, you would certainly have heard her peppered in soundtracks like Magnolia, I Am Sam and the more recent The Last Kiss. And you would all agree that she has one of the silkiest and most honey-coated voices out there. Her voice flows like a current-less river down the bank, like clouds drifting painlessly through the breezy sky.
So, feel free to check her out.
Date: August 29, 2009 (Saturday) Time: 7.30PM – 10.30PM Venue: Esplanade Concert Hall, Singapore Ticket price: SGD118, SGD98 and SGD68 (excluding SISTIC fees) * Fans of the Greenhorn Productions facebook page will receive a password for early bird booking/discounts. Details to be announced at www.sistic.com soon.
Vern suggested the uninitiated to check out The Forgotten Arm.Here, I give you a nice song I have on my iPod – It’s Not from Lost in Space.
This is a story ’bout the three of us,
Down by the water and the tide is rising,
This world is burning and I’m terrified,
I need a little more time with you,
Oh, I just need a little more time with you..
A man, a piano and his delicate little words. Can the world get anymore beautiful than that?
Let’s talk about death. (Look, someone’s gotta do it. Life is all about the same old shit on different days, and sex is not that much fun to talk about anymore, when your friends would snigger at the slightest hint of “blow”. Meh.)
I have always thought the best way to die is to tuck yourself in bed and swallow a bunch of sleeping pills. It is kind of poetic. Like you take so much pills that it will make you sleep until your body never wakes up and shuts down forever. Maybe when all the pills are done in your system, you may wake up already in your grave. I am a quiet girl in person, so if ever I want to take matters into my own hands, this would probably be the right and subtle way to go.
But as life goes on, I came to understand why people would hurt themselves physically. There is a sense of release when you run something as sharp as a razor, or something as blunt as your fingernails down your forearm. It is because you felt this dumb hurt inside of you for so long already, that any kind of pain that is the slightest bit different renews you. All the heartaches that spread all over your body, is gathered and balled into one clean swipe down the arm. Who would not want something as controllable as that? Just remember to bring an extra razor.
And when I am gone, I would maybe like this particular song to be played at my funeral: Gary Jules’ Mad World. I think it would be quite a perfect ending to this thing called life. (Another would be Death Cab’s I Will Follow, but I doubt any elaborations is needed for that).
Nothing corny like the out of tune brass band banging down the street during the procession. Nothing too elaborate like a contrasting joke at my funeral, or someone pulling a Yasmin Ahmad on me. Nothing too religious like a hired priest reading scriptures I do not believe in anymore.
Just perhaps a moment of silence, like how you would be in the presence of someone taking a nap in your living room. Maybe someone with a sad angel voice will be nice enough to sing this song by the mini grand, complemented by a moaning cello. If you may, cry a few tears for me for my sendoff to the blinding light, through tunnels to gates of white.
Posted by vernadium 
Posted by Celeste 
Posted by Celeste 
