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Can I Have A Word?

14/9/2019

A thought struck me the other day. I've never actually liked the word 'blog' it's naturally modern but as word I find it a bit clinical, and it certainly doesn't demonstrate the splendid array of words that can be contained in them like a novel or short story does. It's my love of these things called 'words' that has made me want to write one.

I've always preferred letters over numbers. There's just something beautiful about how you can bundle them together to create wondrous words, the wonder being the power they actually posses. Dependent on where they sit in a sentence, they can ether tickle your funny bone or pull at your heartstrings. I don't think numbers have that affect (well there's the recession) but it's not the same reaction. I can't remember anyone gripped with laughter repeating the number 26, or indeed anyone ever remarking 'I haven't heard that number in years.'

Words do indeed fall out of fashion, but that's nothing but the by-product of time, and indeed part of their charm and the picture they can paint. It's all about context. Such words as 'Divine' or 'languid' that now conjure up images of Twenties opulence, the sipping of a cold Gin and Tonic in between puffs from a cocktail cigarette, were once new and only so as they were uttered by these bright young things.

It's easy to forget the context, especially with all the view points we now have, but everything that was ever written was written at that specific time, regardless of it being a Groovy pad or lashings of Ginger Beer. These words were obviously once familiar to the ear (I forget exactly how much beer is in a lashing) but also furiously sweated over, the pen not settled until it had found the exact one. We have all found ourselves lost in someone else's choice of words, causing missed stops on buses or cold cups of tea. We have also tried to read works which seem only to have been written before the author readies himself for the pub, or is penned on the back of their fag packet – dependent on their vice.

Naturally this is all subjective, although I am assuming you are a fan of the written word if you have got this far. As I am a fan, I have favourite words, such as marvellous, idiotic and vinyl. Discombobulated is a very good one, but perhaps I have always really favoured frivolous. It's because I like being it. I remember being in a temp job and being asked where my boss was, to which I said I was trying to get him to sober up before our next meeting. It's actually on occasions like that where I could do with a sign that said 'frivolous' so people at least know to laugh, or not take me at my word. Although sometimes I wish they would. I did really want those two connecting meeting rooms changed to 'Sly', and 'The Family Stone' respectively.

To avoid being frivolous for a second, I did actually start this blog (there's that word again) by talking about words and why I favoured them over numbers. I am aware that they are beautifully different, but for me, the fundamental difference is that while both of them can be manipulated, the numbers always have to add up. Words aren't like that, they don't have to add up, and they have so many different meanings.
So whether you like to listen to your favourite voice on a page, or out of your home speakers, take a moment to actually listen to what that person has done with those letters. They are indeed only words and you've probably used quite a few yourself before settling down to this. Go and use a few more. Start with frivolous.

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8/9/2019

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If you're a regular reader of this blog, you may have gathered that I have a slight interest in records. As I was listening to one last week, I realised that I'd never actually replaced the stylus of that particular record player. I'm all for authenticity, but that had been there since 1979.

Once the practically had been dealt with and I knew there was a replacement one on its way in the post, I turned to the problem of how to continue listening. I finally relented and dug out my amp and turntable. For the Audiophiles, my listening choice is a 970 Philips Stereo Combo, as I like the way it sits there with its fake wood look. You can imagine how horrified I was when the turntable didn't work either. A piece of wire had come loose. Well it had come away from the gaffa tape, the universal go to for temporary measures. Tape aside, I couldn't help but see the irony, as this was supposed to be the reliable one, that one bit of kit that you wouldn't have to tap the back of to get the left speaker working again. So I did the only thing remaining. I got my tapes out, and how beautifully pleased I was.

Obviously I'm not going to start advocating tapes, they were naturally a bedfellow of vinyl, but their perfect union can be personified by two terms; 'The Mixtape' and 'Home taping is killing music.'

Let's look at the Mixtape. I know you remember them and no doubt a myriad of memories have started flooding back, and it was exactly the same for me. It was the personal touch, only your choice of tune, the perfect place for that song to sit and what it should follow. Whether you taped them off the radio or put your favourites together, it was the soundtrack of your choosing, and every one of those C90s embedded memories deep into your core. Everyone hears a song, and is then perplexed that the song they're expecting next doesn't come on. As that confusion builds, you're immersed in that time when you had played DJ with that song, and it's only when reality bumps into you, do you realise how much time has passed between you playing or making that tape and hearing that song again.

Then, for the more serious listener, you could record a whole album. Not only could you experience the luxury of listening to that record without having to get up and put the other side on, but armed with this C90, you get another one on. This meant that you could take your records out of the house for the first time, where you could play them as loudly as you wanted and no one would sit on them.

While the world of vinyl was theoretically revived with Record Store day (It never went away) they are trying to do the same with cassettes. It just won't work, as you instantly loose that personal touch. You don't get any song titles that are written in different coloured pens, or any other low-fi embellishments like stickers or hand drawn stars. You occasionally got an exclamation mark.

Whatever your viewpoint, these cassettes contained ninety glorious minutes of music that was either your choice, or lovingly made for you. The picture should tell you this, and I deem myself one of the luckiest man in the world to have these in my possession. Not only because I still own it seventeen years after it was recorded, but the time and effort put in by my best friend instantly highlights how much a person actually cares for you. I still have this over the countless birthday cards I have recycled.

Which brings me to the reason of why this blog was late. I have been playing tapes. But not just playing tapes.

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Can I Have A Word?

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