POETRY - Still Hopeful

"Hope" is the thing with feathers


"Hope" is the thing with feathers—
That perches in the soul—
And sings the tune without the words—
And never stops—at all—

And sweetest—in the Gale—is heard—
And sore must be the storm—
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm—

I've heard it in the chillest land—
And on the strangest Sea—
Yet, never, in Extremity,
It asked a crumb—of Me.

Emily Dickinson

POETRY - Identikit

Some towns all look the same in the rain,

the travel, the battle, the end result.

Grey buildings blend seamlessly to the grey sky,

blurred and merged with the cascading droplets.

Somewhere that took so long to reach

Is abandoned for quick shelter.

Some times identikit.

No matter how far apart.

This weather absorbs you

Just as the rain permeates your skin

Just as it coats the buildings in drab mundanity.

Some times all towns look the same

And change you to feel it too.

P. Davidson 25/03/10

MUSIC - The Passing Sparkle

Mark Linkous of Sparklehorse passed away recently. What with the death of Vic Chesnutt, Jay Reatard, this and the recent death of Alex Chilton from Big Star it's been a very bad year so far for cult singers. All of the above artists inspired and left a huge imprint on a number of people and so it's best to celebrate some of their great works. So here is the wonderful 'little fat baby's' taken from Sparklehorses's 'It's A Wonderful Life' album.

MUSIC - It's Raining Glen, Hallelujah

1,2,3... and you're back in the room!

So here we go after along impasse with a song by The Swell Season, very much a Van inspired one this with horns and a 'you got to come up, gotta come up' that you can almost imagine the gruff cantankerous fecker himself singing.

Simple idea for a video too but works so well.

POETRY - Counting Sheep.

Cracks in the painting
Of the wall that supports,
splinters in the frame,
the door expands with the changes,
sits ajar,
is no longer a fortress
is no longer safe.

We lie here, with one eye open.
with thoughts clouded
with dreams held at bay.

Knowing that the breeze can blow this all away.

Yet still we hold,
for warmth, for cover,
for leverage,
And count the cracks in the paint work
as if trying to count sheep.

P Davidson. 03/02/10

VARIOUS - Snoopy a Go-Go

I have no real idea what this ad is for... I just kind of know I want whatever it is... I'm just not really sure why... but yup, I'll have three of them if you're selling.

POETRY - The Crash.

You go home.
Adrenaline slowly makes its way out of your system,
Your tired bones a constant reminder,
Your face still flushed from blushing,
A whir of words and gestures
Executed as best you could,
the recall, the replay,
the pleasantries,
the lies.
False love on a lit stage.
In those moments you said and gave all you could
And still rang false.
The phone buzzes silently in your top pocket
You go home.
As momentum seeps from every pore.

P.Davidson 23/11/09