Friday, October 9
I woke at my own pace this morning. I woke slowly and landed on Earth five minutes before the alarm should have gone off. I haven’t done that on a weekday for as long as I can remember. It felt refreshing.
I woke with the remnants of a half-waking dream in my head: to do with a paper I need to finish, and some jingles I need to write. I took the latter to mean that at some time in the night, below the threshold of consciousness, I had decided to purchase the half price for 48 hours only MusicMaker 2021 that Magix had offered me in an email yesterday.
Walking after a breakfast of Weetabix and Oatly, topped with personally picked cherries from Sundö, I listen to David Axelrod. I had found a collection of his a few days ago and put it on my phone. A cult in the seventies, ignored in the eighties, sampled by Dre in the nineties, and thus inevitably welcomed back after the millennium, his music inhabits a town very near Lee Hazelwood’s music.
Closely miked drums? Check. Rumbling bass? Check. Lots of brass doing not exactly what you might expect? Check. Rumbling voice singing eccentric lyrics? No, not at all.
As I think this I walk past a box that presumably houses electricity in one form or another. I stop to photograph the box from a couple of angles.
Later I will decide that I like this one best.