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.
Five years ago today I was sat in a room at University in an Online Journalism class. This module basically was for us all to start our own blog. What we did with it after the module ended was our own business I guess. I carried on. I carried on because I found a platform where I could express my love for music in a way I’d never done before. It wasn’t just music, it was life events and situations that also tie in with music. Which made me realise that music is my life, it truly truly is. Everyone has a passion in life, it’s obviously what mine is.
Over the past five years of running this blog I have been fortunate enough to befriend bands (Royal Chant, I’m looking at you..lovingly of course) and I’ve discovered new bands that have just blown my mind. I’ve interviewed bands/singers that have inspired me in many ways (meeting Warpaint was beyond words) and I also made my role model, Shirley Manson cry with a piece I wrote about how important Garbage’s record Bleed Like Me is to me. Being thanked by Crocodiles for something I wrote about them meant more to me than I ever thought it would. I’ve never been paid to write anything, and as clichéd as it sounds- no amount of money can put a price on any of that, and also how much I love writing about music.
I’m still convinced that the only person who reads this is my mum. I’ll never get why anyone would go out of their way to read one of my rants, but when I get an email or whatever from someone on the other side of the world telling me they connected with something I’ve written; it justifies why I write. I do it for me, but I also do it in the hopes someone who loves music as much as I do doesn’t feel so alone and strange with their love for it.
With this being my 1000 post, I thought I should try write something of worth. Whether or not it is, well that’s a different subject entirely. It may make sense, it may just wind up being another nonsensical rant, which is usually is. I don’t need telling, I already know. As the end of 2012 approaches (or it may already have depending on your location) you see a lot of people taking to social networking sites declaring how the next year will be THEIR year or they are going to change. It irks me because, you can make whatever change you wish at any point. You announce these things but by the second week of January you hate yourself more than you ever did. Make life easier on yourself, and just carry on as normal. I say this, but I make life hard work for myself at times. It’s a fault, one of many.
I don’t like discussing my weight/how chubby I am because I’m not exactly a fan of myself. I could have easily been like most and said START OF THE YEAR I AM GETTING FIT. Over the past year and a half, I have been working on losing weight. It’s not easy. Fortunately, I really do enjoy going to the gym for a few hours and listening to music. I’d take a book with me but whilst on the treadmill I do look like a panic-stricken bear. When I go there, it doesn’t just get rid of my horrendous fat, but it clears the mind. I currently work at HMV, but it’s only a Christmas job. I love it. I bloody love it. For every grumpy customer, there is one that just makes your day. I’ve held up queues talking to people about bands, I’ve been hugged by customers because I helped them, I’ve had people sing to me then ask “do you have that one?” and the old favourite, “Excuse me..do you work here?” It is a brilliant job and those I’ve worked with are equally as brilliant. It was my third year there, and I think this year was my favourite. It just gives you a sense of pride and self-worth knowing you’ve helped someone. I must add, it is usually the older generation (60+) that are much kinder. Kids today are just rude really. Or maybe it’s the kids over here. I have no idea. Put down your iPads kids, and go take a walk. Use your mind. Come 5th January and I’ll be out of work, and on the Monday I’ll be taking that awful trip to the job centre to sign on. If you’ve never had your soul crushed and your dreams shat on; I suggest you go on the dole. If you want to be treated like dirt and have a wealth of self-hate upon you; go on the dole. My degree is useless, but I have no means of going back to uni. Of course in an ideal world I would have my own record shop, with a healthy selection of books. Later on I’d have my own publishing company. And finally, I’d be able to get a dog. These are hopes and dreams that maybe I’ll one day achieve.
We treat this time of year as a time of reflection. I don’t like thinking about the past, because it can sometimes make you debate what you want your future and present to be. Although, we cannot control the future. I firmly believe if something is going to happen, it will happen. I can relate this to the one I love. Many years ago, maybe something should have happened. Go forward five years and seeing her whilst in London during Pride (oh I know, but this one was alright so…) this year was truly the best thing to have happened. Part of my brain thought, “This could happen..somehow.” Every day since we have been talking, and FINALLY after waiting 5 years, this beautiful and perfect being is my girlfriend. I’m not a happy person naturally, but who is. But I finally know what sincere happiness and what true love is, thanks to her. It was always going to be her- and now it finally is. I’m working on trying to make her buy me a dog. Baby steps, I know. I know. It’s just lovely to be with someone who is full of love and kindness, and wants to change no part of me. Also means I get to spend more time in London too.
This year I have learnt that patience prevails. If you wait, it will happen. With reference to above, I can also link this in to music. Since 2009, I have been a huge fan of Crocodiles. They dragged me through a break-up, showed me a different (and better) world with their music and their lyrics claimed a part of my heart that needed claiming. I missed out on several tours, cue heartbreak and loathing wherever I was living at the time. 4th September they did a free gig at Rough Trade. Oh fate, how I love thee. I was already in London. I think I was staying for a week. I walked past Brandon and Charlie just outside Rough Trade. My stomach flipped. If I was 14 and mental, I may have chased them. Instead, I am a 26-year-old who gets tongue-tied most of the time. Their free gig at Rough Trade was a special moment for me. I paid no attention to anyone in the crowd. I don’t even think 100 hundred people were there. I sang to every song, I swayed and shut my eyes. I opened them, in awe and in shock of being right in front of the band that did more for me than they will ever know. Sadly, I was too much of a wuss to go up to them at the end and talk to them. Next time, I will. I vow to talk to them. About something, or nothing in particular.
My favourite music moment of this year has to be Dee Dee from Dum Dum Girls covering Just Like Honey by The Jesus And Mary Chain, just for me. Just for me. A nobody from nowhere. It started as a sweeping statement from myself on Twitter one evening. I was listening to Psychocandy, and just wrote on Twitter something like “Imagine if Dum Dum Girls covered Just Like Honey.” The next day I woke to a reply from Dee Dee telling me to email her. So I did. She replied telling me she would try to do a cover for me. A few months later, she emailed me the cover and wrote “For your ears only xx.” I do not think anyone in this world can understand what this meant to me, and still does. And yes, I did cry. I’ve been a fan for many years of Dum Dum Girls, and for this to happen just blew my mind. If I see them when they come to the UK, I just need to thank Dee Dee face to face for it. That’s all I can do. Their music has made certain events less shite, you know how it is. Coming Down is my go-to song. Rest Of Our Lives describes my love for the one I love. Season In Hell gives me hope and Catholicked brings me back to life.
This has gone on long. I think I’ve said too much, but I have more to say.
I’ve been freelancing for close to 7 years now, and I started this blog in 2008 as part of an Online Journalism module whilst at Uni. I think I was the only one in that class to keep up their blog. There have been times where I thought there was no point in writing. No point at all. There have been times where if, Writer’s Block was a person I would gladly thump it in the gut. But then I hear a song or find a new band, and my love is restarted and I cannot imagine me not writing. I just HAVE to do it. It keeps me going. I have never been paid to write. Never. No one has offered to do so. I’m not about money. I own nothing of worth. Material things mean nothing to me. My Docs have holes in them and I rip jeans more often than I should. I look like a 70s reject. I look like the lovechild of Joey Ramone and Patti Smith; if they ever had a child. I have had more job rejections than I can count, and each one is a kick in the gut. But a motivation to try harder. Although, I don’t know if I can try harder than I do. I’d love to write a book, but god knows what it would be about. Obviously music. I’ve always wanted to follow a band around and write a book about it (Royal Chant I am looking at you, and Warpaint.) The film, Almost Famous is to blame for that goal.
This year (and last) I’ve had many kind words said to me from bands, PR companies and record labels with regard to what I have written about them and their work. You cannot put a price on that. Of course I believe still, that the only person who reads this is my mum but hey. If you’ve got this far, then I’ll buy you a cup of tea one day. I’m easy to find, but please don’t look as you will be disappointed. This part is a thank you to all the bands that have got in touch with me, all the PR companies and record labels. You’ve made writing even more enjoyable. There are stand-out bands and labels I’d mention, but that wouldn’t be fair. You are all brilliant, so thank you.
I will always ALWAYS welcome new music from any genre, so please get in touch (olivia_cellamare@hotmail.co.uk) I don’t care if no one bar your mum knows you exist or if you’ve supported some household name on a lengthy tour. Music is music. Send it.
Don’t forget who you are, and do not let anyone tell you that you cannot do something. Or that your goals are stupid ideas. Freedom comes from the heart, goes up into the mind then is unleashed. Don’t make a prisoner out of yourself. It’s all okay. It’s going to be alright.
I know age isn’t important. I know it’s not a big deal, but when your 26th birthday is creeping up on you; you cannot help but think “what the hell have I done with my life?!” I know this will pass soon, and on my actual birthday I probably won’t even pay any attention to how old I am. I don’t look my age at all. I look like I probably should be in school. Youthful skin. Maybe that’s my Italian genes coming through. Or maybe it’s because I nap a lot. I have no idea. The key is to moisturise. Always. In the morning and before you go to bed. Look after your skin, and you too can look as if you should pay child’s fare on the bus. Skin tips from a scruffy bint. Enjoy.
Last year when I turned 25 I think I had a brief moment of “oh fuck I’m nearly 30 what have I done with my life?!” And I think it is going to happen again. I don’t know why because no part of me does things in the hopes of getting approval of anyone. I don’t wish for that ever. If that was the case; I’d just be like everyone else. I don’t make an effort to not be like anyone else. This is how I turned out. Whether or not its a good thing, well that’s undecided. Maybe as I get older I may tolerate myself a bit more. Maybe I’ll stop being cruel towards myself. However, if I get in first; it won’t matter so much when someone else does. But there are things others say/ do that probably hurt a bit more than if I was to pick up on it about myself. But, it isn’t worth the time. Not much is. Time. Time. Time. Ages us all, aches us all. Us.
I maintain an element of silliness to make sure I don’t age too much mentally. If I see someone trip up in the street (providing they are not bleeding to death or a pensioner) I’ll probably find it funny. I think most are like that. When you take everything too seriously, it all loses meaning. And we’re all trying to find meaning. Maybe we’ll never know. Maybe we do know, but still want to keep looking. The answers can come from looking outside or from your own reflection. Just depends on how deep you want to get.
So, as I approach 26 I do wonder if I’ve done anything of worth. I just don’t know. I really don’t. My life pretty much revolves around music and I guess I hold interviewing Warpaint as the best thing I’ve ever done. I’ve met and spoken to some of my heroes; and they say you should never do that. But I know of many who have done so, and it being a pleasant experience. I fully endorse meeting those who have changed you and saved you. Sure it’s mainly to do with music for me, but there’s about 2 people who I class as friends that have also done this. So maybe interviewing Warpaint may only be the best thing I’ll ever do. I have no idea. Or maybe it was that time about a year ago when I showed Shirley Manson a piece I wrote about Bleed Like Me on her Facebook page, and she read it. Then told me it made her cry. How many people can say they’ve made their role model/idol cry? I’m still trying to work out if I’m proud of that or not. I’m not sure. I feel bad about it, but I’m glad she saw it.
This seems far too self-indulgent and no doubt I will dislike myself for writing this down. But it is better than a drunken outburst on a pavement with friends moaning about how I’ve done nothing with my life isn’t it. Some things you need to spare others from ever seeing.
It’s just an age. It means nothing. Those kinds of things do not define who we are. I’ve also finished watching all of The Wire again for the third time. Still kind of wish Jimmy McNulty was my best friend or something. And I’m going to always be pissed that they killed Bodie and Omar. That wasn’t right.
Anyway, have some songs; if you’ve got this far. Here’s to the bands/singers over the past (nearly) 26 years that have been my crutch and saviours.
The uncool and the lonely trade nauseating stories about how hard it is; how leaving the house is a chore. How standing up rids them of energy, sitting down zones them out. Some kind of feeling takes them over. The find some kind of identity in the songs that cause others to feel as if their ears are bleeding. They feel like something full of shame. Full of shame, drained of devotion. How you seen it happen? A haunting glare is in their eyes. Maybe you’ve been this person. Maybe you’re getting there. There is always one person you fight to not be anything like that. Their traits make you feel ill. The things they’ve said and done are placed inside of you; you’ve let it go but it doesn’t let you go. It is frustrating because you are someone who doesn’t have a tight grip. But this thing…this THING has got a grip on you. You could call it a death grip, but you know it won’t be the end of you. For you know you’ll rise above it.
I mean, it is fairly easy to get sucked into something you despise, and turning your back on it also exhausts you. Self-exclusion is a sign of strength, but others don’t see it that way. But why should you care how others see it? Do what you want, always.
It is draining stopping yourself being like someone you cannot allow yourself to be. Sometimes someone says, “You’ve got their eyes” or “I’ve seen that look before from….” That shit crushes you, but you carry on. The only person who can stop you from doing anything or being anything is yourself I guess. Comments can put your self-belief in the ground. You seem to caress the bad and shun the bad. Why is that? Because the shit people say about us, that ruins us- is easier to believe. You’ll pull yourself above it at some point. Patience gets you further than anything else. As you get older, you learn that more than before.
Eternal youth starts inside. The lines on your face and the heaviness in your eyes are stories. Tell them how you want, but tell it from the heart.
Last night I went through all my stuff that I finally got out of storage. It had been in there for the past 11 months. It had been left in a place that I wouldn’t wish my worst enemy to go to (it must be added that I personally don’t have one, but I’m sure there are enough that hate me.) It was a place that’ll drain your soul and probably catapult your self-hate to a whole new level. I mean sure where I am living now does just the same, but I can hide from it easily. Places that ruin you cause you to go in on yourself. They also cause you to loath the skin you are in; but what can you do about it? Whilst I was going through all my stuff; I found some books that I’ve put to one side that I just need to re-read again. I’ve got a few books that I can read over and over again, and every time I do I find something else to love about the author and the book. Anyway, amongst all my stuff was an old mobile phone. I charged the phone for a bit, and I switched it on. My gut was saying “Why are you doing this?!” Turns out my head did the same too. So, I went through old messages. That wasn’t a smart move. But something clicked. Maybe all the texts from certain people were a lie; but things are different now. Maybe I had more than than I do now. Or maybe what I have now is a billion times better than it was. Truth is- I have nothing. I really don’t. I don’t mean this in a “woe is me” kind of way. Far from it, I’m not that kind of person. Self-pity is one of the worst things in the world. I mean, I don’t really hold onto things. So I went through some messages and turned the phone off. Sure it made me sad for a few minutes but then I saw some messages on the phone I have now. You compare the two and what I have now is more believable. I don’t know what it is, I may never know- but it’s working. It’s fine. I may have nothing going for me in a “job” sense but I’ve got other things that you cannot put a price on.
I know I am far too sentimental and sensitive for my own good. I know I need to toughen up; but if I did, that’d mean I was going against all I am and all I stand for. I don’t stand for much. Just the basic rule of being gentle and kind. That’s all I’ve got, that’s all I am. I feel like a boomerang and I need a home. I need something permanent. I’m nearly 26; I just want to settle anywhere but here. The year is nearly done, and I’ve done nothing of worth. Maybe I can change that next year. I tried to change it this year, but I didn’t get very far. Some of us are meant to succeed, some of us just waste our time trying. I need to figure out what I’m doing, but I feel sometimes that it’s too late. Should I have gone to uni? Should I ever have started writing? Should I start again? I have no idea. The only thing you can do is carry on in the hopes a solid answer just smacks you in the face. The things I want to do are constantly being shunned and told “oh you’ll never do it, you can’t do that.” In my head I think, “Fuck you.” But I just lower my head and carry on. What else can you do? I was told recently by a stranger, “The bands you love, they all started out with nothing and now they’re something. Use that.” A total stranger believes in me. Strangers are kind; they’re not all bad. She also said I had “lost eyes” but I’m not sure what she meant by that.
So anyway, my point is- leave the past in the past. It is okay to have self-doubt. It is okay to not be your biggest fan. It is okay to have shit days; but don’t forget the good ones. It’s okay to walk away and leave things/people behind because they probably didn’t realise you had gone anyway. To hell with what anyone tells you; do what makes YOU happy and for shits sake- put YOURSELF first because no one else will. Let them say you’re selfish if they must, but they’ve got it wrong. Try a different point of you, and be kind.
I was walking home from my morning ritual of slowly killing myself at the gym (it needs to pay off one day) and it began to rain. I already looked a mess, so what harm would a bit of rain do?
Everything in that moment seemed alright. Maybe it was the songs I listened to. Or maybe I knew I was going home, and I was going to nap. Sure it was a really shit nap, but I was going to be asleep. I like being asleep because I’m no trouble to anyone. I’ve gone back 10 years, I feel 15 again. It’ll pass. It must do.
Everything positive has something negative. Everything negative has something positive. Everything seems to be balanced, but you always find yourself leaning towards one side. Or maybe you are being pulled towards a side you cannot stand. Yet you must go there. Rock bottom is a lesson for us all. Does it exist? Is it just an idle threat to make us feel worse than we already do? You always think you’ve hit your lowest point, you think you cannot get any lower. Like things cannot get worse, but can they? They get better. They also can get worse. See, it is all balanced out.
So you close your eyes around 2am hoping sleep comes. It comes eventually. When you sleep, do you dream? Do you doubt yourself in dreams too? You don’t always get what you want- dreaming or awake. I hate that I function better when I am tired. When I am tired, certain things make more sense. When I’m awake, I think I usually want to sleep and watch Disney films.
Sometimes we make ourselves out to be awful. Maybe it is from past abandonment, maybe we’re not sure of ourselves, maybe we’re not truly awful. We’ve all got our faults, we shouldn’t let them rule us.
As I’m not one for ever listening to myself, have some songs that made dragging myself home in the rain a lot less awful.
“How it stirs me, how it stirs me now. To think my fire burnt them out.”
For the past 1o years, The Kills have been more than a band to myself and so many others. I believe that they make music that makes you fall in love with them instantly. They’re not a band you play once and forget about. They’re a band you listen to once, and your mind is well and truly blown. You listen to them, and everything changes around you. You see things differently. You probably see things more clearly. They invite you into their world that is so passionate and brutal and raw. Above all, it is honest. It is a world that makes you feel as if you belong. Be an outsider, struggle for what you believe in. Fight for your art. Be bold, be passionate, be everything those fucks you know said that you couldn’t.
I remember the first time I heard The Kills, I was only 15/16. My uncle and I bonded years before over a love for the Velvet Underground and The Jesus And Mary Chain. It’s a bond that I treasure, and learn from. He handed me a magazine article about The Kills. I read it, and instantly did all I could to listen to their music. Their debut record, Keep On Your Mean Side corrupted my mind in the most pleasurable way and moved my soul in a way no one and nothing else ever will. I don’t just love their music, their videos- I love the way they are with each other in interviews and on stage. They have a beautiful chemistry that I think we all wish we had.
Wild Charms is directed by their good friend, Kenneth Cappello who also took the photos over the past 10 years in their book Dream And Drive. Wild Charms is one of my favourites off Blood Pressures. Jamie’s voice is just so pure; much like the lyrics. It is a delicate ode to love. The video is wonderfully shot. The Kills do make music videos or just songs- they make works of art. Works of art that leave you in awe.
Maybe all of our actions come from the reaction to what has been done to us before. Other people sometimes do not tread gently when they face us, sometimes you meet rare ones who know what to do. Everything becomes tough at some point. There’s no right or wrong way to deal with anything. Everyone has expectations of others, which is why we are always carrying some disappointment on our backs. The disappointment in ourselves, the disappointment others give us. So why do we get close? A lot of good can come from it, a lot of bad can come from it. Letting go is an art form that is a pain to master. I know, I know all too well. I managed to let something go the other day. The realisation hit me whilst on the rowing machine the other morning at the gym. All my thoughts for about half an hour were on this, and I eventually let go. No resentment, no hatred, no love, no longing, no wanting. No nothing. You feel so much lighter, and everything seems clearer. Just because certain things happen doesn’t mean you have to follow the pattern. It is easy to go back in on yourself. I know that all too well. I’ve currently fallen into that. It’s not a crippling shyness. More like an excruciating dose of “I cannot go further than…” Change the place, change your state of mind. Anyway.
You look up for answers. Maybe the answers are inside of you. Maybe you get a brief moment of clarity when you finish a book, or a line from a song or poem just make you wake up, come alive. Something. I’m waiting. I’m always waiting. Looking. Taking it all in. I give out more than I have. I’m far too patience. But maybe it is a strength rather than a weakness. My stubborn ways are good and bad. I know when to turn it off, I know when to use it. I think most of us do you know? Or maybe we don’t. If you’re always cautious, you may miss out. Please don’t be a coward.
Some will aways use certain traits you have against you. You can rise above it. Be miserable, cry, laugh, fall over, take your time getting back up. Rock bottom happens to us all. You’ll crawl out from under there when you are ready. Take your time. Always. Go slow.
The music can do the talking, and I will loathe myself for doing this. Anyway.
This is for the eyes and ears of one. One that will more than likely not see this, and if they do..they may not get that it is for them. At least there is always the “delete” option. That’ll happen, that I know. Tame your honesty. Use other people’s words. Gentle…gentle.
Beat In My Bones. 