I think I got almost all I need from this Guardian review of Michael Bracewell's Re-Make/Re-Model: Art, Pop, Fashion and the Making of Roxy Music 1953-1972.
Anyone read the book? It looked good, but it's been panned so badly.
Well, except for the bits about Brian Eno, who I like very much. Eno, it seems, was and continues to be the most genuinely and pleasingly odd, prolific, and creative of the bunch who birthed Roxy Music. At least among the reviews of the book, this seems unanimous -- even the little snippet in The Japan Times focused on him:
In contrast, Brian Eno's early life, surrounded by a menagerie of typically English eccentrics, is by far the most interesting part of the book. His interviews are peppered with witty observations and a sense of the absurd — at one point he explains how he taught himself to spontaneously vomit in order to avoid eating school meals, and as a result feels his life-forming memories were confined to the post-lunch period.
Class.
Labels: art, Brian Eno, fashion, music, Roxy Music
posted by Ammie at 12:00 AM
1 Comments:
Ah- Nice looking fellow there. I saw him at work. Now, I am blind. Turn off the RGB's and ZAP. Annhilation.
I heard of Eno, maybe heard a little of his music, and read of him a bit in "Keyboard Magazine" back in "Affen-Reich" days.
As for the other comments: Please do not take my "theories" and whatnot seriously. It's merely Autistic humor, on my part. None of these are actual theories, the Quantum blab, the Vector/Raster thing. I read about that sort of stuff stuff, yes, and I actually have been thinking about R/V/C for a long time, but I do not formulate theories, per say. There are enough drunk PHD candidates that may, like the infinite monkeys, actually write something useful one of these days about Quantum or some such other thing.
Essentially, in coming, going, leaving behind whatever happens to be in the little backpack kept slung over one frontal lobe or another. It's random. Perhaps debris.
But, since they are objects of sort, think of them as strange gifts.. offerings even.. to Saudade.
One man's trash is another's treasure. These are my treasures.
Or trash. You decide which.
All thought is relative, as it is.
As I am.
Regardless, I enjoy reading the posts, whether the relevancy of my comments reflects it or not.
End of disclaimer # 12.3a
Ciao for now ol' buddy.
ps. I hate pop-up windows. They jam up the works, and then the page freezes, and then I experience an anger reaction in response to the pop-up. I don't think they intend that. Or maybe they do. I dunno what to going theory in marketing is these days in manipulating people.
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