The last day or so in Japan went past in a rush. Unlike the interminable 4 hours stop-over at Paris CDG airport before flying on home - even more tortuous its acting as a contemplative state of purgatory. In fact I got so bored with wandering around and testing perfumes in the duty-free and reading Italian women's fashion magazines in the news shop, that I carelessly picked up a copy of The Wire magazine to peruse. Huge mistake, I know. Look, I was desperate.
Do you think The Wire's contributors will ever get tired of using the word 'epiphany'? I must have counted out another dozen examples in that issue alone. And then of course, that prime pumpkin-head Nick Cain leaps out at you with a full page review of Peter Rehberg's recently released anthology. Now you might think this is bitterness for his inane review of Racket but far from it. Eminently worse is one of his (inane) 'good' reviews, especially after reading the incontinent twaddle he has to say about Pita's work. How that managed to get past the magazine's editor is beyond me. Cain is so toe-curlingly aroused by the sound of his own wretched prose, he actually manages to put you off wanting to hear the music. (And by the way I'm sure it is a great release.)
Anyway, enough already on that. The last day in Japan was for the performance that evening at the Red Brick Warehouse with the wonderful Marcus Schmickler also performing, in addition to a charming Toshiya Tsunoda and Luke Fowler. The opportunity also arose for an extra collaborative set with Incapacitants' Mikawa-san, so after a 30 minute solo set featuring Killing Hurts Give You The Secrets (live for the first time), we did 15 minutes or so together. For many years now I feel I've no real time sensitivity to music so that, whether recorded or live, it's impossible for me to make personal evaluations. Could be one of the best things ever, or a load of stinking rubbish - only time can tell.
Before I sign off with regards to this trip, and I do apologise for the consistently tiresome name-dropping, it'd be good to mention one particular highlight, that of meeting and spending some time with Joan Jonas - what a truly lovely and fascinating human being, one whose artistic passion burns ever bright.
In summary, it's such a privilege to get these kinds of opportunities that, let alone 4 hours, I'd happily sacrifice 4 days or 4 weeks stuck in limbo at CDG in exchange for. Just so long as that bloody magazine isn't anywhere to be seen.
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If you ever get enough money, to afford and possibly need a personal assistant- I'd like the job. Assistant to the People in charge, is what Im psychologically made for.(What can I say, all the drama, none of the stress of being the Talent.
My main duty, could be amusing you at airports. I think I could do that quite well.
The perfume chats could take up at least 20 hours of run time alone.
Like any useful device, that one only needs intermittently, can be powered down to unobtrusive status by inserting a book into the viewing field.
Inexpensive, long lasting power supply, cheap to feed, easy to store ( folds up small,easily fitting into small places.)
The interactive function can be accessed by any spoken reference word. Subject has over 5 books a week, over a period of 40 years in memory. Random shuffle produces new and amusing combinations of chat subjects!
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