“Walk through the fire,walk ’till it gets light. There is no hiding to save your life.”

Bad luck happens to us all. It happens to some more than most. Some attract bad vibes, bad people and bad luck. Thing is, what you class as bad luck may seem like something trivial to someone else. This is why you should never measure yourself against other people’s woes. When you do that you start to carry more dislike for yourself because you feel pathetic for feeling a bit silly. It happens, you are human. It’d be much easier if you were an animal wouldn’t it. Or you know, didn’t have any feelings.

Bad luck will catch up to the luckiest of people. Call it what you want, it always does. I think I was pretty shit in my past life because of certain step. One step forward is about 50 backwards. The further backwards you go, the more careful you are when making your next move. So really, it isn’t all so bad. The older I get, the less I find what I am good at. The things I am good at are utterly useful. My brain is like a jukebox, and my limbs are too short. My body fat is decreasing because I basically live at the gym. I don’t think anyone understands how happy I am that I’ve gone down a size or two, and that I can zip up my favourite hoodie..AND THERE IS ROOM. I’m good at losing my body fat; can’t make a living from that can I?! No, I can’t. Me? Do a fitness video? Never. I don’t understand them. Go outside and do stuff.

I had a nap earlier and woke up with hair that resembles Nick Cave when he was in The Birthday Party. Wild. Truly wild. It’s the only thing about me that is. But it’s alright. Some want to conform, I just want to catch up on some sleep. Bad luck.

Bad luck is happening to us all. Some of us ignore the bad and appreciate the good. That’s how it should be. Even with fuck-ups and set-backs. You see people thrive off being utterly miserable. I have my grumpy moments. I have them more than I wish, but it’s only when I am here. When I am with her, everything is just fine. Not grumpy at all. But, it’s just something I must deal with for now. It isn’t bad luck, it’s just a crappy situation. I could be further,  but thankfully I’m not.

Bad luck doesn’t define you. Everything shit that happens to you doesn’t rule you. Just because one person cannot stand you doesn’t mean you are awful. Just because someone feels the need to be awful about you doesn’t mean you have a problem. They’re the ones with the problem. But, we live in a world it seems where having an opinion is a bit lethal. Like you’re not allowed to speak up. If you see someone doing something wrong or harming someone, then fucking speak up because you’d want someone to save you.

Just because you’re carrying around some bad luck doesn’t mean you’ve got to share your negativity with anyone. Explain your troubles, but don’t act like you are the only one with them. I’d write a book but not even I would read the rubbish I write.

Maybe I should just go find a new band to fall for and write about.

Bad luck..just shrug it off, kid.

“Your heart is a thrown and sinking stone.”

If the mind could take a holiday, would you let it or would you let yourself carry on? Bad things happen and good people go unnoticed. Too many people want to be famous, anonymity is no longer sought after. It’s a shame. Everything is shame; especially when you cannot do anything about it. We remember bad news because it lasts longer than anything good. We condition ourselves to cling onto the bad because it’s a sick form of comfort. The good slips through, as does time. As much as I dislike the concept of time I am utterly fascinated by it. Yesterday I had a job interview near Camden, so afterwards I went for a walk around Camden. On my own. It was pissing down with rain and I wandered round listening to music. If it wasn’t so grim outside, I’d have stayed longer. Camden isn’t my favourite place in London, far from it. I’m not really sure where my favourite place is in London. I just love that city. I used to hate it. I’m not sure why I hated it so much. Now? Now I have less positive feelings for the North of England. Maybe it’s a shame, maybe it isn’t. But you see, the North is always tinted with a shade of grey. London isn’t. It has something else, like no other. Or maybe I’m just really pleased with myself that I can use the tube all by myself without getting lost. Proud moment.

I wandered around the city a few times. No one knew me, and I didn’t know them. When I thought I got lost I just went a different way and got to where I wanted to go. Even if I wasn’t sure if I wanted to be there; I still got there. Time, patience and being aware. In a way, I could apply that to life. My life to be exact. Of course I could. I should. I’m going to try. I took great comfort in nobody knowing who I was. Not caring if I bumped into someone I knew. Stopping to talk to a friend in the street is something I’m not a fan of. I’d rather just sit down with them somewhere. Standing in the street to discuss events and emotions seems to informal. Also, you’re in the way of passers-by. If there’s one thing I dislike, it’s me being in the way of someone. Keeping distance is an art-form. I think I’ve gently got to grips with it. It’s not a tight grip; it never is.

It’s that time of year where I hate myself even more for not having a job or money. Christmas doesn’t bother me; it’s not having money to not go to SXSW that really gets to me. As a music obsessive, SXSW is my idea of heaven. I’ve never been to a music festival nor do I ever want to go to one. Stand in a field surrounded by drunken twats that smell of piss listening to the outline of bass rather than an actual song? No thanks. If I wanted that, I’d go to a club. And I don’t like clubs. SXSW seems like a classier affair. Where people actually care about music. No one is there to get so drunk they throw up and pass out. They are there to discover new music in brilliant venues. Bands from all over the world are there. Shit..last year The Jesus And Mary Chain played. I watched a bit of it on the internet and felt a rush of self-hate mixed with love for that band merge as one. I don’t know what I felt, but I just wished I was there. One year, I will go. I just have to. Maybe I should play the lottery, maybe that’d increase my chances.

I haven’t written anything for a while. I don’t know why. I haven’t even written any lyrics or poetry in my notebooks for a long time. I expect too much from myself at times with that. I’m not some literary machine. I never will be. I’ll take inspiration where I can, and when. I’m 100% sure I’d have found a lot at SXSW.

But all is not bad. After waiting for many years, I finally have tickets to see Beach House in 2 weeks in London. Two days after I’m seeing Foals. If there was an award for “Best Girlfriend In The Universe” mine would win. Not only just for this, but for her general being.

So this week will be spent mostly wishing I was at SXSW in small and sweaty venues with bands that would blow my mind. There’s always Record Store Day to look forward to.

James Blake.

James Blake has caused me to appreciate a side of music that I ignored for a while. I’ve always paid close attention to lyrics. Lyrics are important to me. I find other people’s words fascinating- mainly because my own can be quite invalid. Hearing how another says a certain word to make it have more meaning than it used to, well, it impresses me.

However, along comes James Blake and all I can hear is layers and layers of amazing sounds that cause me to feel something strange. I’m not entirely sure if I’m going to be able to word this successfully, but I’m going to try.

 

The sounds are haunting. The way his voice echoes over the music causes your body to just freeze and you think “BLOODY HELL!” Obviously language may be slightly more vulgar, but you know what I mean (my mum may read this and I don’t want to swear too much!)

When I first heard Tell Her Safe it felt like I could believe in new music again. I played it over and over for weeks but there was nobody I knew I could share it with because well, nobody would care. So I kept it to myself, as usual. Everything about him is quite indescribable; no words can express what his music does to you. It just elevates your soul and nothing around you actually matters. All that matters is this piece of music that James Blake has created.

 

I have mixed feelings about seeing him live. Whilst I am fully aware it’d be a glorious experience, I like the feeling of escaping listening to his music in the dark through headphones drifting in and out of sleep. I think if I fell asleep at a gig (again) it’d be frowned upon. It’s an internal battle that I’ll have until I decide to see him.

 

Limit To Your Love is a lovely cover; however one cover that surpasses this is A Case Of You, originally by the wonderful Joni Mitchell. It’s just gorgeous. There is something about it that reminds me of Antony & The Johnsons. I’m probably alone in this, as usual. However comparing this cover to Antony & The Johnsons means it is THAT mind blowing. I’m not a fan of Feist, so when I heard he had covered one of his songs part of me didn’t want to know, but it works. I’m not exactly the world’s biggest fan of covers, yet there are a select few that eclipse the original.

 

What Was It You Said About Luck is my favourite (for now…it will change, it always does.) a vulnerable voice over a keyboard is something that you cannot fault, ever. Unless the singer is shite, obviously!

 

Just because James Blake did not win BBC’s Sound Of 2011 doesn’t mean you should ignore him- or the others that didn’t win. Just because the winner is thrown at you constantly, doesn’t mean it is good (I’m not slagging off Jessie J, she can sing- I’m just not a fan of her songs) but seriously- give James Blake your attention. Buy his album, turn off the lights, listen closely and allow the music to take you somewhere. Somewhere better.