Thursday, February 19, 2004

Welcome to IRCers Anonymous

by Suw on February 19, 2004

Up in London again last Sunday to meet with a bunch of guys from #joiito, including Gary Turner, whose blog has been a daily read of mine for, like, ever.

Because I’d been so blown away by The Weather Project when I went to see it last time, I’d suggested to the guys that we take a shufti. There were six of us meeting at the Tate – myself, Gary (gt), John (raku), Chris (daggi), Pete (soundrater) and Sean (sbp).

The Weather project was ace even second time round. I resisted the urge to snap more pics, but Gary’s posted a couple of really ace ones on his blog that he took with his slinky new digital Canon EOS. I kept thinking about asking to have a look at it, but it’s such a nice camera I didn’t want to ruin it by drooling all over it.

Gary’s first blog entry with a groovy pic stitched together from four others.

Gary’s second blog entry in which he does something very clever that I wish I'd thought of first.

Once we got down on to the main floor of the Turbine Hall, we did the whole lying down bit for a while, then sat about like IRCers Anonymous, chatting about #joiito. I’m a little disappointed that no one produced a laptop with a wifi connection or some other way to get onto irc so that we could group chat, but yet also faintly relieved.

A blurry Chris

Gary struggles with Sputnik 3, before being told by a rather sheepish attendant that ‘tripods aren’t allowed’. Yeah, cos it’s a real health and safety hazard, that tripod. All those people lying down around us are risking life and limb by their mere proximity.

More of Gary’s photos:
All off us.

Just me. Cos I’m vain like that. Although you’ll note I resisted the urge to download, tweak in Photoshop and re-upload as my own.



Sean’s pics, including an excellent one of the back of my head. I always wanted to know what the back of my head looks like, and now I do.

After leaving the Tate we crossed the ex-Wobbly Bridge, met with James (imajes) and then went in search of somewhere to eat. That wasn't shut. I'd forgotten that most of City and Holborn is shut on a Sunday. But still, the walk did us good. No, really. For a bunch of essentially sedentary bloggers, it was a serious dose of exercise.

John at the pub

It's kinda cool now to be able to put a little asterisk next to Gary's name to indicate we've met. There's something peculiarly one way about blogs – you read someone's blog for ages and after a while it feels like you know them. But you don't. Even if they read your blog and get the same feeling, it's still two parallel one-way processes failing to equal a two-way process. Finally meeting in person and being able to actually converse properly is just great, and made even better by the fact that Gary is just such a great guy.

So now I shall have to hunt down a bunch of other bloggers so that I can add to my list!

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I've just been introduced to the joys of Russian folk music by Maciej over at Idle* Words. No cute boys with guitars. No amps. In fact, no instruments at all, just a bunch of Russian speakers with lungs like bellows and a preternatural ability to yip.

Yet, despite years of blinkered obsession with indie rock, I find myself inexplicably loving this stuff.

One of my exes was really into British folk music. And I mean, really. In a big way. He'd often drag me along to gigs or attempt to 'educate' me about the wonders of folk. I never succumbed. Whilst I could intellectually see the attraction of playing folk, I just didn't get off on listening to it at all.

Thus I'm all the more surprised to discover that I actually really rather like this Russian stuff. Although I suspect the overall experience is enhanced by not understanding a word they're going on about.

Anyway, there's one particular track that's just really cool – it's got this kinda strange wailiness thing going on which is peculiarly attractive. Plus some of the tracks sound like fun to sing. I don't know if Maciej's links are permanent or not, but if I can I'll post one.

UPDATE: Maciej's files are here! It's hard to pick a favourite, but I think for sheer rollockingness, Pcholechka, which provokes in me the almost irresistable urge to sing along; for strange and repeated yipping, Porushka; and for just general weirdness Kogo Nyetu.

*Very bloody idle. Hasn't updated in yonks, for shame.

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