Collecting together.

Some images and sounds that have joined me this week.

Little Miss Sunshine. I’ll say little for fear of overhyping, but really, a film that lives up to the over exuberant praise lavished on it. It’s witty, dark, interesting, funny and a little bit stupid. And yes the film makers have made their characters all learn things which always slightly annoys me, but they are such likeable characters that you don’t really mind.

Get cape. Wear cape. Fly Genius stuff. Beautiful voice, folky guitar and fascinating lyrics. “We are all striving for this thing that makes this grind worth surviving, be that our white whale or the one little moment when our dreams still feel alive”

More intriguing is this 43 song collection of old sea songs, interesting from a history of song point of view and interesting from a random interpretation of songs from artists across the song writing spectrum. Nick Cave, Bono, Eliza Carthy, Rufus Wainwright, Ed Harcourt, Lucinda Williams, Sting, Jarvis Cocker and more all contribute. Although I’m not sure the whole singing with a Pirate accent really works for Sting, it’s a selection of grand stories, sad songs of murder, pain and love gone wrong, and of course a few ‘way-hay and up she rises’ along the way.

John Mayer is the next discovery, revealed to me by the excellent Steph. With songs that tell stories and insanely brilliant guitar playing who could not enjoy?
“We bit our lips, She looked out the window, Rolling tiny balls of napkin paper, I played a quick game of chess with the salt and pepper shaker, And I could see clearly, An indelible line was drawn, Between what was good, what just slipped out and what went wrong”

Last night I saw Kate Rusby live again. She claims that one of the rules of folk music is to leave 60% of your audience depressed by the end of the evening. And with lines like this: “So lay me down gently, oh lay me down low, I fear I am broken and won’t mend, I know. One thing I ask when the stars light the skies, Who now will sing me lullabies? Oh who now will sing me lullabies?” I can see why they might. But again, there is something strangely uplifting about someone singing out the feelings within you, maybe it’s the comfort of knowing others have been in these depths and know what it’s like. Maybe it’s just the chance to wallow a bit. Who knows? It still works.

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