![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
squirmeliaI have a large box of cassette tapes underneath my bed, all thrown in, higgledy-piggledy. It has been quite some time since I tipped them all out on the floor, in a rush to find one I particularly wanted, but it's been much longer since I last made a compilation tape. There are compilation tapes in there though: ones I made for long-ago occasions, such as for a book-burning ceremony when I left school, ones people have sent with hastily scribbled track-listings, ones made by my parents containing songs they considered suitable for children's birthday parties (including songs by Chas & Dave), ones taped partially off the radio with occasional spoken comments from a version of me that was only 10 years old, tapes I haven't looked at for years and have no idea what kind of music is on them and even ones that the shiny brown tape has emerged twisted and sprawling.
One day, when I've moved house at least a few more times, I'll probably throw them all away. Maybe I will have moved to Crisp Road by then, where Daniel Kitson's c90 was performed at The Riverside Studios on the 25th - 30th July. (I had an urge to graffiti my first name onto the road sign. Luckily for the road sign, I didn't have a pen.)
I sat at the front of the theatre, only a few metres away from the library of lost compilation tapes. It was Henry's last day of work there, since the amount of discarded cassette tapes appearing in a pile in the corner of the office had gradually dwindled as time passed and there wasn't really anything left for him to do. He had never listened to any of the tapes though, just read their labels, sniffed them, contemplated their existence and filed them on a large bookcase.
The tapes were compiled by many different people and some of their stories were also told, such as that of Milly, the crossing lady, who cooked pavlova for birds and asked everyone she met what their middle name was.
On Daniel Kitson's website, c90 is described as "funny in bits, sad in bits, hopeful in bits" and that seems accurate. It was more of an enjoyable story that contained all of those aspects than just a comedy act.
I have an urge to make compilation tapes for people now though, but I can't decide upon even one song I want to put on them, let alone what I want them to smell of. c90 is currently being performed at the Edinburgh Fringe, but maybe a few of the discarded tapes will have become even more discarded and I will find them on the streets there, to listen to for inspiration?
One day, when I've moved house at least a few more times, I'll probably throw them all away. Maybe I will have moved to Crisp Road by then, where Daniel Kitson's c90 was performed at The Riverside Studios on the 25th - 30th July. (I had an urge to graffiti my first name onto the road sign. Luckily for the road sign, I didn't have a pen.)
I sat at the front of the theatre, only a few metres away from the library of lost compilation tapes. It was Henry's last day of work there, since the amount of discarded cassette tapes appearing in a pile in the corner of the office had gradually dwindled as time passed and there wasn't really anything left for him to do. He had never listened to any of the tapes though, just read their labels, sniffed them, contemplated their existence and filed them on a large bookcase.
The tapes were compiled by many different people and some of their stories were also told, such as that of Milly, the crossing lady, who cooked pavlova for birds and asked everyone she met what their middle name was.
On Daniel Kitson's website, c90 is described as "funny in bits, sad in bits, hopeful in bits" and that seems accurate. It was more of an enjoyable story that contained all of those aspects than just a comedy act.
I have an urge to make compilation tapes for people now though, but I can't decide upon even one song I want to put on them, let alone what I want them to smell of. c90 is currently being performed at the Edinburgh Fringe, but maybe a few of the discarded tapes will have become even more discarded and I will find them on the streets there, to listen to for inspiration?
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-08-08 06:34 pm (UTC)http://www.shootspeed.com if you don't know what I'm talking about.
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2006-08-09 03:12 am (UTC)i like you :)
xo's from nyc
-a
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2006-08-11 01:16 am (UTC)I put up with CDRs. :)
no subject
Date: 2006-08-30 02:11 pm (UTC)"*Age 15: Bogshed. Bewildering classmates. Who is this fucking
band The Fall? Staying up late. Cud. Possibility of
liking Coldcut and The Smiths. The Redskins. Feeling
okay about not liking everything. BASF C120s with
imperfect tracklistings".
It seemed so right.
The cassette player is the only thing working in my kitchen. I dance with my marrigolds on. I have a compilation of the bits of the 80's that I liked, and Christ knows, there wasn't much. It has Aztec Camera, Elvis Costello, the Psychedelic Furs, the Bunnymen and stuff. I sing along, probably a little too loudly, the neighbours retaliate with Simple Minds and Paul McCartney.
I have a CD burner now. But I tend to lose interest these days.
You write beautifully, my dear. the Minxstress extols your photography.
Unfortunately, I don't have the access.
I will make do with the words.
no subject
Date: 2006-10-13 04:48 pm (UTC)I also saw Josie Long, who reminded me a lot of him (or in fact the other way around, but I've been informed that that's the wrong way around).
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From: