Saturday 17 June 2006

I got up far too early this morning. Yesterday I wasted four hours pulling two PCs apart and swapping hard drives and soundcards around, only to give up and put everything back the way it was. I did hoover under my desk though, sucking up unimaginable quantities of oose and muck that had gathered among the sea of tentacle-like cabling. Then a planned meeting with a record company executive got progressively delayed by the contraflow on the M8, until it ended up as a three minute conversation on my doorstep which could be summed up as 'What did you want to talk about anyway?' 'Oh, nothing much.'

Anyway, I reclaimed the day by filing my Tax Return online, so that I can tick it off my festering to-do list. I like earning so little money that I don't need an accountant. I'm naturally suspicious of people who cultivate dependency on their services, whether accountants, lawyers, or 'alternative' health practitioners. If I'm going to give someone a wad of my cash I'd rather they fixed something and went away, rather than coming back regularly for more money.

I was so tired last night that I watched most of Richard Thompson's 1000 Years of Popular Music DVD (a radio producer friend gave me his advance copy). RT hides so much skill when he performs: it looks completely effortless. Not sure the Thomas Morley canzonet works, but everything else from Orazio Vecchi to Britney Spears sounds and looks pretty convincing to me. I interviewed RT once for Radio Scotland and someone transcribed the whole thing and put it on the web. Wonder if it's still there ...

Now listening to the new Eddie McGuire CD on Delphian (that one should be in the shops very soon). It's very good indeed. Had forgotten that I really like Eddie's music. And Eddie of course.

---

later
Have been lying on the sofa half-listening to Café Zimmermann's Bach concertos volume 3 while reading. Their Bach second suite is quite stunning. If I'd heard it 20 years ago, it would have made me want to form a group to play baroque music. Now, even this much older, it makes me wary of doing the same. I imagine rehearsing the piece (we've played it from time to time of course), and all the baggage about how to play it that we now bring with us. What a struggle it would be to try to attain the freshness and vitality that this record has, weighed down with all our habits and bad lessons learned over the years. I can hear myself swearing at everyone in frustration. On the other hand, it might be great. Maybe we should have a go in March, or in Orkney next summer. Argh.