if i leave this year with one conviction, it may be to stay clear of anyone who openly refers to themself as an artist. i don't want to hate artists. i really don't, i swear, but i think i hate artists.

each night, i listen to my illegitimate copy of saint etienne's tales from turnpike house, a habit that may change once i purchase a legal edition. i'll listen to it in transit, at work, in bits and pieces, here and there. i got to know it in snippet form. there were 60-second samples of each song on the saint etienne central command, which i downloaded before the album proper was leaked. sadly, as much as i love the album, most of the songs don't live up to the promise of those one minute bits. hear the prechorus/chorus rush of a good song, and you can only build the other 3 minutes up to be absolutely incredible. 'oh god, it can only get BETTER!' i think, but of course i'm disappointed. stars above us led me astray, for example; i figured that the pre-chorus line would be the main melody, but it pops up once and then subsides for a relatively unremarkable verse. when i hear a taste, i can build the rest up to be the BEST EVER, but it never will be. i worry about that new goldfrapp album, apparently titled supernature, because i've done the same thing. a series of 45-second snippets have been edited into one 7 minute file. i'm already picking out the references; one checks blue monday, another checks spirit in the sky, i think.

i listen to the two goldfrapp albums less that i'd like to, but i think it's another case of keeping the memory stronger than the actual record. i have to listen to stina nordenstam's the world is saved on a more regular basis, or it will definitely fall into that trap.

the only other complete album i listened to today was the smashing pumpkins, siamese dream. here's a case where i'll pretend there simply isn't any singing, or that what singing i must hear is wordless. billy corgan as liz fraser. i skipped past disarm, because it's simply too much. hummer, though, is worth whatever patience is necessary to get through the duds. mayonnaise, too, and geek u.s.a. it's all in the guitars. so many guitars.

i'm still not over my 1960's sunshine ornate pop infatuation, now in the form of mort garson's big sur, also roger nichols and the small circle of friends. i'll have to make a few cds of this stuff for road trips, where it will be appropriate. i also just realized that i haven't applied the adjective 'uniquely canadian' to a record in a very, very long time, which can only be healthy. just wait for bruce cockburn's early 70s records to be reissued, though.

i fucked up my syntax tonight, which disturbs me more than it probably should. look at that, it's not just about records after all.