Indie Rock And Long Form Improv
The two things I write about the most. Hopefully this entry will be devoid of them (partially).
I woke up relatively early this morning (11) and took the Tube to Tottenham Court Rd. My campus, located in East London, is congested with halal/fast food restaurants, pubs, and liquor/grocery stores. I have trouble finding places where I can just sit down and read, something that has become an important part of maintaining sanity. So every weekend I've been taking the tube to a not-so-random stop and spending my days walking around, taking pictures, shooting stock footage, and eating. I love food.
So today I went over to Tottenham Court Rd, a hotbed for hipsters and drama kids, as well as Asian people (Chinatown is around there). The purpose was to catch a Phoenix concert that ended up being sold out. No luck there. The club looked a bit off colour anyway. Like a frail middle-aged man donning a black sweater, bunched at the sleeves, revealing a tattoo climbing up the length of his arm. There was only slight disappointment.
This was actually my third time going to Tottenham Court Rd. The first time was to catch an improv show at Rathbone Street, which turned out to be pretty terrible, but not a total waste of my time. If anything it proved to me that short-form improv is a style that has no defense. And that improvisers who are trained in short form can't create engaging scenes. That's enough about improv! The second time I went there was to go to The Forbidden Planet. It's the second nerdiest shop around that area. The first is a LOTR/Fantasy store called Orc. No joke. They have streamers that consist of magic cards taped together, running along the walls. The top floor of Forbidden Planet is for the toy collectors. I really hope the action figure doesn't die out. Little known fact about me, but I have every Batman: the Animated Series figure and vehicle (I might be missing 1 or 2). And my friends have challenged me to that fact, to which I answer. Do you have the Penguin with the umbrella that shoots a spinning red-and-white spiral disc thing? Worth 200 clams? No? What about combat belt Batman, with the grappling hook? Worth 150 clams? That's what I thought. Oh, they're both open and therefore worth nothing? Yeah, but how much are hours of fun, zigzagging between periods of intense loneliness, worth? Fucking priceless.
The second floor of Forbidden Planet is just a standard comic book/sci fi book/Asian DVD store. I went there last week to pick up some Marvel issues that I missed (Ultimate Spider-Man, Amazing Spider-Man, 2 issues of Frontline). This Civil War is tearing us apart! Richard Parker is alive??? I'm not buying it. And if I am buying it, he'll surely die before the end of this arch. Brian Michael Bendis, you better have an explanation...
The crowds were Times Square-esque, except much quainter (less crowded) as everything in the UK is. It's got the same Broadway feel. Spamalot, Chicago (now starring Ashlee Simpson!) and what have you, minus the inane tourist shit. You'll have to go to Embankment for that. Instead we have a string of cafes and bookstores. I find that bookstores in London don't have as many chairs or spaces where you can lounge around reading graphic novels you'd never buy. I've been trying to find a few graphic design books, but they're a big commitment as far as price and the space that it takes up goes. One of my life goals is to have a bookshelf I can be proud of, and I admit that aesthetics plays a very big role in that. Thank goodness Haruki Murakami's book bindings are always top notch. Thank you Vintage International! I ended up buying 2 texts for class. Sabrina Hake's German National Cinema and Richard Neupert's History of the New Wave.
Why did I think I could make this entry interesting?
I also went over to a music store and picked up a stereo condenser mic. Samples, here we come. I think I subconsciously tried to impress my drama professor the other day by saying that I was going to compose my own music for a performance piece. Even though it's something that I would want to do. I should stop checking myself whenever I have the urge to say something. I gotta stop worrying about whether or not people think I'm trying to impress them. Yes, that's what happens when you get to my stage of self-doubt. That being said, I'm itching to get back into recording. Sometimes I think about everything I want to accomplish, and the learning and training I have to put myself through to get to each individual point, and I get overwhelmed; anxious; I take naps. But most other times I don't.
Ended the day by picking up 2 albums. The Magic Numbers debut is one of the most infectiously catchy things I've heard in a while. I highly recommend it. I can picture myself listening to it once or twice this week, and coming across it again when I'm in a shitty mood. Maybe I've just, inexplicably, sunk into another low, and I find myself REALLY listening to it and falling in love for the first and a half time. Sidenote: does anyone else think that british rock groups are particularly impersonal? Maybe it's just that I like a certain portion of the music I listen to seriously to be autobiographical and representative. I love storytelling. The other album I got is The Replacements- Pleased to Meet Me. I'm going to try to collect the entire 'Mats catalogue. Not because it's cool, but because I've genuinely grown fond of the songwriting. I think a lot of times I'm turned off by older stuff because of the production. The 80's was full of too much chorus and reverb. These albums are no different, but the songs are killer. Swingin' Party is one of my favorites.
if being afraid is a crime, we hang side by side
has to be one of the best lines modern music has given us.
Update!
Internship/Job application count: 13!
Peanut Butter and Jelly semmich count: 36!
Turkey Semmich count: 19!
That makes 55 sandwiches in a month. I would keep a hot wing count, but it would probably make you physically ill. By the way, I failed to not talk about either of the 2 things I said that I wouldn't talk about.
I trust this restaurant.