Music. More music. A bit more music. Coffee.
Artists I've obsessed about: arc angels, autolux, bettye lavette, cibo matto, coil, crash worship, current 93, david sylvian, dj food, doyle bramhall ii, elliott smith, funkadelic, girl bros., gorillaz, handsome boys modeling school, jill jones, john coltrane, jonatha brooke, joni mitchell, jude, k. d. lang, le tigre, lina, madhouse, mary gautier, material, meshell ndegeocello, michael nyman, miles davis, mingus, mitchell froom, neil finn, nurse with wound, pacifico, parliament, p c munoz, prince, psychic tv, rodney crowell, ryuichi sakamoto, seal, sheryl crow, susannah melvoin, tchad blake, the family, the like, the time, tori amos, victoria williams, wendy and lisa, W.O.M.B.
Producers you'll find in my collection repetitively: tchad blake, mitchell froom, bill laswell, wendy melvoin.
Labels that rarely steer me wrong: 4ad, anti, axiom, blue note, cleopatra, paisley park, projekt, verve.
Watch Before the Music Dies. Just do. And see if you don't swoon over the goodness that is Doyle.
Heroes are my heroes.
My book pile is a complete mess at the moment, filled with books on power exchange and gardening. I am slowly, slowly, working my way through Leonard Shlain's Sex, Time and Power. It's hard to believe I used to get through six books that size in a week back when I was in school . . . !
Claude Hooper Bukowski (who hides in the movies and pretends that he's groovy, pretends he's Fellini and Antonioni and also his countryman Roman Polanski, all rolled into one!)