Harold Budd/The Necks

10ºC, dry, getting windy

Gig in Stan’s Cafe Birmingham, – both ambient music, in an interesting venue- a metal pressing factory conversion in the Jewelery Quater, Birmingham. There wasn’t a great deal of conversion made to the buliding, it was clean but no effort had been put into decorating the place. We waited in the entry shed with a feeling of anticipation that was different to other performances. The audience was mostly middle-aged men, all wrapped up in thick winter clothes and many beards.

Harold Budd came on first and did a single piece 45 minute set. He began softly playing curious little phrases on the grand piano while the only other musician played a box of tricks that manipulated piano and ambient sounds. The presentation was very soft, distant and unspectacular. There was I, full of head-cold tired from work listening while drifting near to sleep but not loosing contact with the music at any point. Near the end as the sound tailed off, someone coughed and the sound reverberated inside the black box and I wondered how the audience-performer relationship would have changed if they had built on this intruded sound in their own playing.

The Necks had much in common with the first set, though three musicians who didn’t appear to use any electronic manipulation this time. The sound grew to a massive wall of sound just from percussion, double-bass and grand piano. The overlapping patterns each produced created other rhythms within. There was less space in the sound, but the overall structure was clearer. As before, beginning quietly, the crescendo was huge and tailed off at the end. Each instrument sounded  anxious and distant which created tension with the others. This is music, like Budd, that had no melody, not broken into separate pieces but was bound by soft overlapping rhythms that bound it all together. There was none of the harshness that characterised amplified wall-of-sound pieces heard in other venues. You can’t beat live “unplugged” performances.

The show was somehow part of the London Jazz festival. I can’t help feeling that I don’t really have a working definition of “Jazz” though. What makes something “Jazz”?

House mushroom

10°C, cloudy (thin ones)

Further to this autumn’s fungus theme on this blog, here is a surprise mushroom growing in my bathroom. That sounds grotty, it’s actually growing in the pot of a (so called) Dragon tree. The tree cost me about £4 from  a supermarket, which I re-potted immediately on coming home last summer. Sometimes I put wood-bark chippings in pots, it’s supposed to stop weeds growing while it lives outside for the summer. This is remarkable enough to be almost ironic. Perhaps the fungus is growing on those wood chippings rather than reflecting any damp decrepit conditions in my bathroom.


Now this cold is steadily getting worse, my voice faded alarmingly during lessons today and deepened by an octave. Okay, not an octave, bit it’s gruff still.

I’m in bed. It’s 8.30pm. Goodnight.

Wake!

4°C, FOG, thick too.

Suddenly wake from a dream: I am driving anxiously toward a petrol station, the fuel gauge needle is on “E” hard. Rolling uphill towards the yellow sign of a Shell garage, the road opens into two lanes and I filter left. the car is fully loaded, three passengers and me. then another estate car passes from behind and I see the driver’s face. he doesn’t look pleased so I wave a cheery wave. He looked pretty furious actually. Anyway, I continue to nurse the car along at 40 mph, fearing the fuel will cut out at any moment. Then in front- the furious driver turns his car around in a layby. I think some road rage might be coming my way from him.

This is the point at which I wake. Wide awake actually & raised pulserate.. I doubt that dreams would affect me like this if I didn’t have a stressful job. It’s 02.40 in the morning and the fog is remarkably thick outside. Hope I get a bike ride later.

Anyway, look at what I found on this morning’s dogwalk. Note, I didn’t pick it, it was lying freshly damaged on the ground under trees, probably a dog had run by it.

A wild guess: Macrolepiota mastoidea?

Thinking of work

14°C, SE winds cloud, bit of sun

Had some meetings at work.

Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn, and caldron bubble.
3.  Scale of dragon; tooth of wolf;
Witches’ mummy; maw and gulf
Of the ravin’d salt-sea shark;
Root of hemlock digg’d i the dark;
Liver of blaspheming Jew;
Gall of goat, and slips of yew
Sliver’d in the moon’s eclipse;

Shake me out of this tree

9°C, Dull dull drizzle

Here I am, lying in bed with a mince pie and a brandy. It’s grey out, no wind and no sign of an end to this claggy drizzle. Hence, I have the brandy and wondering what is the point of this all. I work all day, so that I have the money to enjoy myself? No, it’s so that I am too tired to sense it all. It’s quite different to my other occasional bedtime drink- whisky. after reading all of that, just to cheer you up, here is more fungal fun:

Mushroom forest

12C, clear, NE light. CR:61 miles

Mushrooms live rather well on roadside verges, this was an un-missable display, like clusters of eggs.

Coprinus comatus, the Shaggy Inkcap?

And yes, I know they are not plants.

Even on this small scale, you can see it’s a fuzzy photo. I carry my phone with its pinhole camera on bike rides. Sometime this winter, an upgrade- but to what? My next phone should have a really good camera, and by that, it must have a good lens, control over exposure, colour balance and optical zoom. Does such a camera-phone even exist?

L’endroit

6°C, some veils of very dense mist

L'Edroit

French teapot, really!

Superb French restaurant found by chance in Congleton, Cheshire. I ate the finest Risotto I can remember, and the place has a friendly, homely atmosphere. We didn’t choose the most exotic wine on the list- £255 per bottle, blimey. L’endroit comes very highly rated by me.