Flo's tenth birthday.
Its the year of Jacqueline Wilson - diaries, notebooks, pencil cases, bed linen.
She has four 'new' friends coming over for a DVD and pizza session on Saturday afternoon. Lemony Snicket's "A series of unfortunate events" wins the prime slot, over Ice Age 2 which they have all seen. I'm OK with that - should be an interesting film.
Personally I'm dreading 'the party' though. These are all girls from her class, but none that we know. Her allegiance has shifted since Christmas and all the friends she's had for the past couple of years have been replaced with a new group that she doesn't seem to fit into at all. Who knows what goes on in their heads...?
At least LC has stopped throwing up now after her sudden explosion in the service on Sunday.
She was a bit grumpy and seemed tired (as usual for 12 o'clock) so I was carrying her around when something told me to step outside. That was when she threw up everywhere and I could do nothing, other than hold her at arms length while she poured it allover me and herself.
It was very touching to have so much support from friends in the congregation. SOmeone immediatly started clearing up as I ran into the toilets, then someone else appeared with clean clothes, a glass of water etc etc.
She's so rarely sick I am not used to dealing with it. Poor little thing went all cold and shivery afterwards and slept all afternoon, waking only to eat a piece of toast about six and then sleeping all night as well.
It passed as quickly as it came and she's been fine ever since...?

Still trying to drum up intelligent criticism of TCM and getting nowhere. John credits artists, film-makeers and photographers on the sleevenotes, but only a handful of other people have recognised this. I think it would be great to see him on The BBCs "Culture Show" - he has at least done a couple of interviews about the album which should see the light of day soon. One is for kpunk ezine and the other for the very wonderful echoes.org which also champions Harold Budd and Steve Hillage.

The tour is only a few weeks away now, and I am glad I have waited to book tickets. Trx has now booked a dinner with her friends on 27th, which is the night of the gig at Scala. So that leaves me with only really Brighton as on option on 31st, which ties in nicely with an email I had yesterday from Leo who wants to go and was wondering which gig I'd chosen. All works out nicely again of course.
One suspects there will be a live album before too long, combining all the stuff he and Louis have played since the Exotour. This should include new versions of 'My Sex' and 'No-One driving' at least. I am campaigning for them to do a version of The Man Who Dies Every Day and its gathering support, but who is to say what goes on in his head either. And a new version of 'I Want to be A Machine' would go down rather well too I fancy...

I've been trying to review The Drift, the ultimate album of 2006, but having trouble putting something together as brilliant as this:

From Pitchfork.com
The Drift is still further down an unbeaten path. Written and produced over a seven-year period, this record, like a painstakingly fine Ingmar Bergman film, moves slowly and deliberately, with an intense focus and refusal to turn away from disturbing "images." Like Tilt, its stories are taken from a varied, almost overstuffed horizon of literature, news stories, Walker's half-forgotten dreams, and otherwise poetic neuroses. Speaking visually, the music is mostly darker hues, though sudden flashes of blue light or explosive white beams punctuate an otherwise intimidating monolithic landscape. Walker describes working with "blocks of sound" as opposed to written arrangements, and the record betrays a broad, almost brawny movement, as if being slowly, persistently kicked in the gut by the characters (or characterizations) of the composer's songs.

There will doubtlessly be many listeners who don't understand how anyone could listen to such relentlessly "bleak" music, but Walker is the kind of artist that exposes a lot of would-be art as background entertainment-- and like a great artist, he doesn't actually make a value judgment out of it; he merely goes on about his work, distancing himself from the fleshy pile of pastimes and people who would obscure the most ambitious functions of art. Walker inspires, scares, confuses, provokes-- not because he wants to manipulate you, but because he's an interesting person who's worked a long time trying to make interesting music. Even at its most dissonant and abstract, this record is human to the core, and if you're ready to face a few demons, it's as inspiring as music gets.

Buy it. Say no more