bernie connor presents 'the sound of music'

this much i don't know....................................ut!

as i write, the toaster has blown up.

when i was 14 i loved 10cc. and the who. odd choices.

click, clack. click, click, click. clack. click clack.

i have on ocassions relaxed in the safety of my own delusions.

after years of analysis by people only marginally more intelligent than myself it has been decided in a rather arbitrary way that 'i saw her standing there' by the beatles IS the best track one, side one ever. think about it.

i'm not quite me dad but technology has me on the ropes at times. the last seven days have been a challenge, to be honest. it freaks the living shit out of me when things don't work, being me there's only so many things i can do. once i get past the overwhelming desire to curl up into a ball and cry, my next port of call is to break whatever it is that isn't doing what it should be. in the case of my computer, it's an expensive piece of digital hardware that people other than meself rely on, so that's out of the question.

the birds feeding at my living room window are becoming some of my best friends. we have a robin this week. previously there were just tits. this does not make me st. francis of assisi.

last week when i was in london i discovered that trafalgar square has two fountains. can you believe that? i have no idea where the other one came from.

i truly believe that ritchie manic is alive and well and living in australia. i also believe ritchie manic is dead and not living at all.

if we are all going to hell in a hand-cart i wanna be hanging off the front as it begins its descent.

i once for a fleeting momeny thought 'cars' by gary numan was a 'boss tune'. i soon realised the error of my ways and reverted to my 'numan is evil' stance where i remain to this day. thank god.

i can see for miles. and miles. and miles. and miles.

if sir david charnock rushes to my rescue he shall be dubbed the king of the internet by her majesty the queen.

don't forget to leave comments, they prove invaluable when i need my ego massaging.

this week: how can a man take such hard times and live.

WE WILL NOT SHY AWAY FROM POP MUSIC.

rock 'n' roll/nightclubbing.....the human league.
1517.....the whitest boy alive.
i'm gonna make you mine.....the shadows of knight.
cheating and lying.....the silvertones.
frankenstein.....brain donor.
007, a fantasy bond theme.....barry adamson.
sho' nuff (got a good thing).....jj jackson.
action packed.....ronnie dee.
midnight rabbit.....golden bug.
take your soul.....the sahara all-stars of jos.
pandora's golden heebie-jeebies.....the association.
walked all night.....charlie booker.
septeber gurls.....big star.
electric bird.....georges vert.
low spark of high-heel boys.....traffic.

torn up into confetti sized pieces and cast to the wind by bernie connor, hurriedly picked up and re-assembled with all the love, due care and attention of a new parent by the lovely weezle. vootie!

i have on occassion known to be wrong, i know you might find that hard to believe but it does show that i am human and feel the same things as you mere mortals. again, apparently the specials are the hottest ticket in town, they are not as i said a bunch of fiftysomething geezers shuffling around the stage like trenchfoot victims. they are instead spritely fortysomethings with all the energy and zeal of an amphetamine convert. again, it just goes to show how wrong you can be.

i draw these conclusions based on what? and following a long train journey today this is the theory i came up with: watching musicians from my youth perform their greatest hits for oodles of cash irks me because it reminds me of my own mortality and how utterly short a time we have on the carpet that flows beneath us. because we only have a finite amount of time and space in which to coloour our canvas accordingly you must tirelessly strive for new experiences and watching the heroes of your youth whoring themselves in middle-age is counter to this untried and not b=very well thought through point of view. or something.

on the other side of the coin, alternative tv are playing in london this saturday (look to the stars for details) and i would have very much like to have been there. so once more my half-cocked theory falls to the ground.

but i would say that, wouldn't i?

this week: star trek, maybe. imax, maybe. star trek + imax= copmplete winner.

WE WILL NOT SHY AWAY FROM POP MUSIC.

wading through a ventilator.....the soft boys.
weekend condition (scotty coats & wes the mess mix).....free blood
do yourself a favor.....stevie wonder.
the northern song.....the superimposers.
aftermath (single version).....cowboys international.
that's the way god planned it.....billy preston.
what's up now, man?.....hockey.
angel baby.....rosie & the originals.
my favourite game.....the cardigans.
box of rain.....the grateful dead.
marcus garvey.....big youth.
the visitors.....abba.
roll, bus roll.....jeffrey lewis & the junkyard.
live from the opium den (david holmes main mix).....justin warfield.

if you are reading this early friday, i apologise for the brevity of this text. it's been a busy week and i haven't had a chance to write anything at all. i will pad it out over the weekend and make my salient point somewhat more coherent.

thanks for your patience and support. x

abandoned on a disused bomb-site by bernie connor. picked up, re-assembled and loved back to life by the weezler