Shiny, dead good work.
Thought I’d check in as an excuse to stop, collapse in a chair, mop my brow, beg a cuppa, and fain looking dead busy and important. ..Any of this worked so far?
In the week running up to a little Momo show, everything does inevitably get a little telescoped into too little time, and Momo does tend to dish out various other random creative things to deal with at the same time. So that I have to pause carefully every ten minutes to think of my name.
Typical would be this afternoon’s itinerary, I suppose. Starting with a precursory website design analysis for a possibly nice new client running a successful art gallery business, I am now prepping mixes for the show on Saturday. I shall then be popping to good ink management partners The Print Room to stroke some extremely, almost absurdly, nicely-specced print for a high profile international (no-pressure) mailer, before wandering the industrial estates of Walisdown to find The Bay 102.8 to possibly boob about on air for ten minutes aroud 6.00pm, talking about myself annoyingly. And at undoubtedly great odds with their normal playlist. Before then wandering the same industrial estates looking for tonight’s rehearsal rooms I secured only this morning for a bash through with the beats boys tonight.
Don’t think I’ll get time to finish sanding that hall wall we stripped in a wild-eyed, unplanned frenzy at the weekend.
Of course, blogging out a list of pretty tediously small-time chores in an attempt to look busy and important so feeble that you might actually want to hold me and cry for me and then hold me out at arms length and look at me squarely and then through tears and with a shake of the head ask what happened to me and then hold me again MIGHT appear to be an un-smart choice on my part. Even reaching the FOOTHILLS of credibility has taken, like, SOOOOO LOOOOONG, Tim; stop acting like such a desperate loser. Which is sweet of you.
But have you stopped to think, eh, that MAYBE, just MAYBE, yeah, I couldn’t help myself and then took such a long time to type it all out as I thought it / think it all through out loud on the keyboard here that by the time it’s obvious and incriminating I have not only lost the time to go back and correct it and fabricate indifference but also the will and the memory of where this was going and of how to use punctuation Oh, >?<
Well look. So I’m on the radio apparently. And then we’re doing a live music show on Saturday or something and someone’s told me that we’re actually sharing a BRAND RUDDY NEW RUDDY TUNE at it and some very nice chums are actually traveling half way around the planet to be there and to fill our home and the little Momo studio with merriment at it all so, y’know… I’m just trying to keep up and keep enjoying it. Fnaffle condescendingly all you want. You can still come along. Like you have anything better to do.
But while you’re there, could you confirm that ‘condescending’ does actually mean ‘ascending’? Because it should, come to think of it, shouldn’t it?
But yes. A new piece from Momo if you make it down to Sixty Million Postcards this Saturday and are actually prepared to stay up for it. This is actually true. You WILL hear it and it WON’T be online any time soon afterwards.
The usefulness and scale of my creative career may be unbelievably limited, but I can at least promise something on Saturday night that will be dead good.
Especially if you’re there.
Momo:tempo’s Electro Pops Orchestra ride again
No Fun vs Momo at Sixty Million Postcards, Facebook event
PS: And all the more because some nice man has just delivered a very shiny new pair of classic Oxfords for my get-up. Good work.