It's the end of another week and what a tough week it's been! Sipping my coffee, listening to my newly downloaded Rodriguez (I'm loving the fact that South Africa can FINALLY purchase music on iTunes) I'm waiting for the calm to end before the next storm hits. And it will in a few hours when the board results are released. But for now it's headphones in and music on...
It always amazes me, although I'm not sure why, how much music can calm / change my mood. Hearing the cracks on the 1971 recording on the Coldfact album can only but make me happy - there are imperfections in even the most beautiful and perfect things. And they are better for them. They are unique for them. They are what they are.
On Sunday I'll be waiting in baited breath to see if the documentary Searching for Sugar Man receives the recognition it deserves at the Oscars. In a era of performers it will be awesome to see a true artist be recognised for his craft - a recognition he has, until recently, never been privy to, despite his popularity in our country. His story teaches us to do what we love and do it well, without needing positive reinforcement from others.
Lyrics to "Cause" - by Sixto Rodriguez
Cause I lost my job two weeks before Christmas
And I talked to Jesus at the sewer
And the Pope said it was none of his God-damned business
While the rain drank champagne
My Estonian Archangel came and got me wasted
Cause the sweetest kiss I ever got is the one I've never tasted
Oh but they'll take their bonus pay to Molly McDonald,
Neon ladies, beauty is that which obeys, is bought or borrowed
Cause my heart's become a crooked hotel full of rumours
But it's I who pays the rent for these fingered-face out-of-tuners
and I make 16 solid half hour friendships every evening
Cause your queen of hearts who is half a stone
And likes to laugh alone is always threatening you with leaving
Oh but they play those token games on Willy Thompson
And give a medal to replace the son of Mrs. Annie Johnson
Cause they told me everybody's got to pay their dues
And I explained that I had overpaid them
So overdued I went to the company store
and the clerk there said that they had just been invaded
So I set sail in a teardrop and escaped beneath the doorsill
Cause the smell of her perfume echoes in my head still
Cause I see my people trying to drown the sun
In weekends of whiskey sours
Cause how many times can you wake up in this comic book and plant flowers?
And I talked to Jesus at the sewer
And the Pope said it was none of his God-damned business
While the rain drank champagne
My Estonian Archangel came and got me wasted
Cause the sweetest kiss I ever got is the one I've never tasted
Oh but they'll take their bonus pay to Molly McDonald,
Neon ladies, beauty is that which obeys, is bought or borrowed
Cause my heart's become a crooked hotel full of rumours
But it's I who pays the rent for these fingered-face out-of-tuners
and I make 16 solid half hour friendships every evening
Cause your queen of hearts who is half a stone
And likes to laugh alone is always threatening you with leaving
Oh but they play those token games on Willy Thompson
And give a medal to replace the son of Mrs. Annie Johnson
Cause they told me everybody's got to pay their dues
And I explained that I had overpaid them
So overdued I went to the company store
and the clerk there said that they had just been invaded
So I set sail in a teardrop and escaped beneath the doorsill
Cause the smell of her perfume echoes in my head still
Cause I see my people trying to drown the sun
In weekends of whiskey sours
Cause how many times can you wake up in this comic book and plant flowers?
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