Directory of Lost Causes (By Quentin S. Crisp)

New Music and Old

I am a man of very limited means. Most of my clothes are what people have given to me. Recently, the same seems to be true of music. This morning I recieved no less than seven CDs in the post, from the same person, I might add. That's right, I have become very lazy in keeping up with the music scene. I used to read all the music papers, in a previous century, but no more. Now I have a secret agent out there in the world who keeps me musically informed and supplied. If you are reading this, thank you. I shall not reveal your secret identity. Anyway, the music I received this morning consists of music new and old:

Mono - You Are There.

Thee Silver Mt. Zion Memorial Orchestra and Tra La La Band - Horses in the Sky.

Sufjan Stevens - Illinoise.

James Figurine - Mistake, Mistake, Mistake, Mistake.

Elliott Smith - Either/Or.

Sparks - Kimono My House.

Add N to (X) - Avant Hard

If you want to know what any of these are like, just ask me, and I'll let you know.

I also read Momus' blog today, and was reminded of my fondness for Okinawan folk music, which prompted me to look up clips on YouTube. It seems to me that Okinawan folk music has the mystery of Japanese samisen music with an added warmth. The songs are generally sung in the Okinawan dialect, so I don't have much idea what they are about, but they seem to swell with genuine emotion in a way that moves me. The songs don't seem to me to be merely curated museum pieces, but still to be very much alive, and yet, at the same time, they transport me to another place and another time. The best things in life are beyond words - even words are beyond words sometimes - and Okinawan music is a case in point. To be completely subjective, listening to Okinawan folk music makes me feel like a Japanese novelist from, say, the Taisho era - possibly Meiji - holidaying with a mistress in Kumakura, and smoking a cigarette in my yukata, fresh from the hot baths, as I gaze out of the window at the curving rooftops crowding higgedly-piggledly to the sea, catching here and there a glimpse of petals falling upon a gust of spring wind. Even though Kamakura isn't in Okinawa. (I said it was subjective.) I also like the fact that this kind of folk music seems to make the age of the singer utterly irrelevant. The power of the songs remains the same, and this difference to modern pop music seems instructive. Anyway, here are one or two that I like: