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From a Basement On the Hill

This CD surprised me, unlike Jeff Buckley and Nirvana, you don’t get the impression Elliot Smith’s death is being milked for all it’s worth with this album. It comes across as simply a collection of the last fifteen tracks he recorded and never got to release while he was alive. Good stuff, that is.

Twenty Years

I spent today watching cricket, drinking Queensland’s finest, and listening ot the all Australian net50. I love this country.

And if that wasn’t good enought, I got new music.

There are twenty years to go and twenty ways to know who will wear the hat. There are twenty years to go, the best of all I hope. Enjoy the ride, the medicine show. And thems the breaks for we designer fakes. We need to concentrate on more than meets the eye. There are twenty years to go, the faithful and the low. The best of starts, the broken hearts, the stone. There are twenty years to go, the punch drunk and the blow. The worst of starts, the mercy part, the phone. And thems the breaks for we designer fakes. We need to concentrate on more than meets the eye. Thems the breaks for we designer fakes. But it’s you I take, ‘cause you’re the truth not I. There are twenty years to go. A golden age I know. But all will pass, will end too fast, you know. There are twenty years to go, and many friends I hope. Though some may hold the rose some hold the rope. And that’s the end and that’s the start of it. That’s the whole and that’s the part of it. That’s the high and that’s the heart of it. That’s the long and that’s the short of it. That’s the best and that’s the test in it. That’s the doubt, the doubt, the trust in it. That’s the sight and that’s the sound of it. That’s the gift and that’s the trick in it. You’re the truth not I.

- Placebo

Completely irrelevant to everything, though it is a good song.

Sea Hut

The gig last night rocked. The Spazzys were okay, Butterfingers were awesome, and Machine Gun Fellatio were weird. It was somewhat cool that the crowd went most nuts for Rollercoaster, which is the only MGF track I find worth listening to. Cabaret punk – it has potential I suppose. Butterfingers were truly amazing, I really like them, and I really wish I didn’t. Shame about their lyrics, because their punk fused hip-hop really does it for me.

I got up at six am today to hear Adam and Wil’s final show. Farewell to the best.

Sans University

Just finished the last exam for the year. Time to break myself I think, starting with the ears.

Tonight I’m going to see Machine Gun Fellatio, The Spazzys, and Butterfingers. I’m not the biggest fan of any of the three, but they all do a massive live set, so it’s too good to pass up.

Tomorrow morning is Adam and Wil’s last ever breakfast radio show for Triple J, I’ll have to get up at six am to hear it, and yes, I am going to cry when it’s over.

This weekend it’s all Australian music on Rage and Triple J, and the all Australian net50 is shaping to be awesome.

The second test starts tomorrow, so there’s five days entertainment sorted.

I guess the lasck of uni means I might even get some work done. Ahh, the horror of it all.

Breakin’

Tim and I have an exam tomorrow, so we thought, ‘hey, let’s go watch The Director’s Cut of Donnie Darko.

But first we headed to Intencity where I thrashed mister twenty-hours-of-video-games-a-day at Scud Racer. My lifetime total of three hours gaming time obviously shone through there.

The Directors cut was good. I’m undecided (and probably will be indefinately) about which version was better. The second version makes the story easier to understand, though not neccissarily more digestable. Hopefully when the DVD is released it will contain both versions. Yeah, that’d be dandy.

After the movie Tim insisted on buying twenty dollars worth of kebabs, which is stupid in itself, but he also left his keys on the table in the kebab place, so when he got home he couldn’t get inside. My CDs were at his place, so if I wanted them back I had to drive him back to the kebab place to pick up his keys. So we went to my place, called to check that they’d found his keys, which they had, and then headed back. Hurrah for petrol wastage.

On reccomendation of Benj I got The Music’s new album, Welcome to the North. Only halfway through my first listen, but it’s all sounding promising.

Oh, and I’m reeaally liking Gelbison’s latest material!

Killing Time

Arie: #$%^& WORK DAMNIT
roseability: ahh, poor arie
Arie: i hate Javascript
Hayo: what you trying to build?
Arie: I am trying to do something with that xmlhttprequest
Hayo: i thought you didn’t need js for that
Arie: oh yeah

I got the Donnie Darko soundtrack / score today. It’s beeaauutiful.

nine4fivesixfour

Michael Clarke, my new hero.

Being a stoic Victorian, I constantly dismayed when yet another new player makes a test debut, and Brad Hodge misses out again. But Michael Clarke has won me over completely. His hundred today was stunning, a blend of classic strokeplay, and thumping clubs all over the field. By the end of the day the New Zealanders were so demoralised even Glenn McGrath managed his first ever fifty.

Three.Six Tomorrow

Exam invigilators. They come in two types. There’s the nice old ones, who sit up the front, and chuckle away to each other about bowls and the like, not caring a hoot about you unless you make a noise. The word invigilate doesn’t suit them at all.

Then there’s the cunning ones. They sit up the front, looking like your dear old nanna, and then, when no one’s watching, they sneak down the back of the room and … well, invigilate. Which is really annoying when you’ve got half the lecture notes scrawled on the palms of your hands and you need to read them.