we weren't playing very many festivals this summer, and now we're playing even less.
yes, the house of supreme mathematics has succumbed to frantic sweating. brows have furrowed, cracked queries raised, volumes have been dusted from walls and sticky pages turned. unspecified illness with all manner of symptoms. don't worry mum, we're drinking lots of water.
it wasn't supposed to be like this. was it? we genuinely believed that we were immune, that our days would be long and our nights longer, that the air in this summer of summers should be sweet and light, and the fruits of the tree of life would be ours with honey and thick greek yoghurt and with a fucking cherry on top. but the cherry-stone has stuck and now it's covered in phlegm.
the night before last i dreamt that god descended, breathed wrigley's-fresh breath upon my head, and whispered gently the good news: that he cares about each one of my pores. like a shepherd cares for his sheep? i asked, thinking maybe i'd heard this before. no!, he said, i'm over that agrarian bullshit. think of me more as an epidemiologist, and you as my statistic.
it just goes to show, doesn't it, what a small world we live in.
genuine heart-felt apologies to everyone who was coming to see us this week. we will be back playing hard next summer. is there a silver lining? well, we're not dead. and we start recording next week.
xx edwin.
here's yannis, aka the horse's mouth, with much the same to say. like the dutiful copy editor that i should have been, i've taken out all specific references to this unspecified illness, for the sake of the insurance (apparently).
so me and jack are ill as a cat and a dog.
he's the cat i'm the dog.
everyone else has fled the house to avoid the **** and now we are alone on this ghostship galleon with some old respiratory masks and that weird daytimeless energy for company.
my brother has been ferry-ing food to me. he calls me once the food has been left on the doorstep and he is out of contagions way. its like something out of a bad sleuth series. i trudge down in my musty purple Florida t shirt, eraserhead i snatch the parcel and head to the kitchen and devour the contents.
i am watching 3 films a day; yesterday was Apocalypse Now Redux, Dune and California Split.
Jack sometimes comes up to say hello and we talk about food. when the **** (TM)
overpowers my self respect i run past his to get to the toilet to hurl.
it's like a really fun game of 40/40 in.
anyhow we are over the worst .....
no cigarettes for three days! woo hoo!!
we wish we were playing the festivals. sorry
at least now our children will be healthier than ourselves.
at least we are stronger now than before.
stay safe
yannis
x
 | No momento ouvindo:
Two Dancers
Por: Wild Beasts
Data de lançamento: 2009-08-03 |
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