Sunday, November 04, 2007

Don't stop, I don't want to get off

It's difficult not to get frightened by life sometimes. It's difficult to sit quietly and watch the fireworks from the window on the eve of 5th November when everything seems to be rushing by. I am worried that I am missing out on all fronts. One day I am in Bristol, absolutely bloody amazed by its beauty, at the sight of Brunel's suspension bridge as it appears quite suddenly as you come up the hill to the Clifton observatory; and then sitting on Thekla with the sun in my eyes, sipping a drink and looking out on the front cover of Engine Common on one side, a row of coloured terraced houses sitting against the soft blue sky on the other, the seagulls flying around making the only audible sound and having a conversation about everyday life, the future, small things, big things, things that count for so much more than we give them credit for. Then having a peak at a life that I am missing out on, not quite sure if I am sad or relieved - not sure if the life I live is the right one even. Who is to say? Certainly not me.

I make a big fuss of small things: like when my friend decided to start putting popshows on in Sheffield, in my head that became a symbol of pop power and his decision was the quintessence of the pop spirit. I am always amazed when people make decisions like that because it reminds me that although we go through our lives alone, there is always a string that connects our hands, our brains, our hearts and moves us all to common directions. I felt like that when I saw and heard the A Smile and a Ribbon album as well: it just seems so big, so important, and yet it comes from hearts set to create small treasures, treasures that we can deal with. And in that sense, indiepop is as political as they come. The sense that people are trying and achieving and the benefits are nothing more than a round of drinks, or a sweet email of appreciation, or a night of absolute perfect enchantment in a grotty pub. We live a relative life. Relatively fantastic. And that scares me.

***

Here's an early Popguns demo, a small present. Does anyone know what the song is called?

2 comments:

Dimitra Daisy said...

What is it with everyone writing brilliant posts when I turn my back for a second?!

Marianthi said...

It's only because we're trying to get in there before you do, Dimitra.