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August 16, 2005

nasty close-ups of cherry nova ... and BTAB news

ladies and gentlemen, a shameless plug ...


... and the sexiest, newest addition to my little rockin' world ...









whew! okay ... i need a moment!

seriously - the hottest, most awesome guitar i have ever owned (and that's quite a few...).

Posted by reuben at August 16, 2005 12:19 AM


That guitar is absolutely stunning. I feel envious and a bit in love with it.

Posted by: Jess at August 17, 2005 11:49 AM

right you are - you have excellent taste, miss 'jess' - this les paul killer plays like my hands are hot knives and ms yamaha sg is willing butter. oh yeah.

do i know you?

Posted by: ruby at August 17, 2005 5:02 PM


Posted by: marty at September 21, 2005 5:20 PM

Nice. You gonna P90 it?

Posted by: Crispin at October 31, 2005 1:42 PM

nah, the yammies sound fine through my custom-modded Godlifier (mutant Fender bassman head modded to clone a Prosonic on one channel and a Tonemaster on the other. Roar power, crispy - you'd love it... are you playing with NI guitar rig yet? I think it's the dogs bollocks.

Posted by: reuben at October 31, 2005 2:24 PM

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« from the sublime to the ridiculous ... | Main | nasty close-ups of cherry nova ... and BTAB news »

August 15, 2005

(is anything really as) bold as love (?)


round about this time of year on this island (terschelling) just off the north-west coast of holland, the farmers let all the cows run free "all over" the island (oerol means "overall" in dutch). i shot this on terschelling the day after Oerol ended - come-down day, effectively. as innocuous as it looks, this is one of my favourite of my own photos, if only for the classical composition, the judicious use of the rule of thirds. i'm rarely this disciplined. provia 100f, going through an OM4Ti wearing a 28mm f2 zuiko. i think.

it's been an odd week, running the gamut from the sacred to the profane, really. i finished a four week placement at one of the most redundant (yet oddly enjoyable) temp jobs i've ever held; i was a proof-reader/editor for a foodie-guide publisher. 5 hours a day subbing menus to see if some french-illiterate apprentice chef had left out the circumflex above the 'u' in brûlée. redundant because, well, who really gives a shit? and enjoyable because i got to use my 'talian quite a bit, and there's plenty worse things to be doing than reading about food in an office full of good people.

so, to be clutched once more to the bosom of my mistress, unemployment...

sigur ros were incredible almost beyond description. atmospheric in all the non-wanky ways, all the good, evocative ways. stirring the pre-linguistic pot of heart-stuff that bubbles beneath our convenient (but is it?) linguistic safety-net, protecting us from really feeling. ah, music that makes you feel something - like hendrix wresting feedback aliens and ack ack fire from his tortured strat + marshall combination, sigur ros understand that words just get the hell in the way sometimes, that playing your instrument conventionally will yield conventional sounds, and melody and dynamics - no matter what a musician's genre or approach - must always, always be first and second. to think that this obscure icelandic quartet (plus friends) could actually share these things in common with an act as stylistically opposed to them as the go! team ... bu then the truth will out, won't it.

a gentle, welcome transatlantic cross-fire of opinion - a new website launches in the UK scoopt, offering its services as a go-between for people with camera-phones who happen to 'scoop' a news-worthy story. it's tagline is that everyone is the news photographer of the future. a london friend and zealot for all forms of technological emancipation thinks this is cool; i argue no, on the grounds that the technology democratizes expression but debilitates aesthetics in reportage. this introduces a new theme, with my opponent citing the power of the immediacy of cam-phone images used in reporting the london bombings. i suggest that, as quality is still basically distributed across a bell curve, according cam-phone shots by johnny/jenny-on-the-spots with no knowledge of how (or sufficient equipment to) tell a story visually won't improve anything but the immediacy of reportage, which does not cover all the bases of quality; yes, it reflects the zeitgeist somewhat, and HCB would be shooting dig if he were alive today, but his knowledge of *how* to tell a story is what stood him apart from others. until you can teach all cam-phone toters how to seize upon the "natural harmony of forms" as opposed to "point and shoot" i can't back that reasoning; democratizing the media just increases the "noise". i don't want "content aggregators" to filter out the crap and provide a tailored (even if it IS based on my input) smorgasbord of "what i like" pre-packaged to me, ready to read; i'll aggregate my own fucking content, thanks, i enjoy the trawling, the perusing, the "stumbling across" - the mentality is travel versus tourism, and you all know where i stand as far as that goes. technology creating more static doesn't increase my enjoyment of that process - and that's before we even start to critique the basic crassness of scoopt offering cash as the primary incentive to engage in this brave new democrimedia utopia. yeah, bollocks. i don't trust cnn; it doesn't immediately follow that i should trust some stranger with a nokia either, just because it's an individual take rather than a corporate-filtered voice; individuals can be racist, sexist, self-interested or just not know how to frame and compose (much less expose) a fucking shot. where is skill in all of this? effort rewarded, rather than the dumb mis/fortune and pure, random chance to be in a particular place at a particular time?

Is Not launched issue three of their fab mag/poster-design love-in, Habit Is Not Addiction, and the launch party was, again, pissah ... complete with sword-balancing belly-dancers, hotties on roller-skates and authentic, rusty absinthe. resulting in skinny hairy white-boys on the dance-floor ... sigh. i re-hashed a little piece i'd written on the mad drop for them, this time dis-spelling some of the myths i'd once helped to perpetuate. we all grow, some slower than others.

there's a strange malaise about at the moment, but i bought a new guitar [: )] and am going to garage band my way out of it.

news to follow soon about BTAB!'s next show, for anyone melbourne-side; zee girls are shaking their fine boo-tay in the general direction of all things biblical this time - an easy target, to be sure, but one rife with burlesque potential, and, as i can surely vouch for the brains behind the boobs and bums, it is set to be a cackle of Creation-esque proportions.

so. soon then, monkey-descendants.

Posted by reuben at August 15, 2005 12:33 AM


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