Lost in the supermarket

or at least in the comfort of my own home. Lemme 'splain. Like a refugee, I'm writing this from my old PC because my Mac won't turn on. I'm taking it in to the Apple store on Sat, but in the meantime I have no idea what to do with myself. The whole ordeal is scary in a few ways. Obviously there's the potential data loss, including basically all of the data for the new show I've been working on, but it's also scary how at a loss I am. I mean right now I'm doing exactly what I would be doing if the Mac was working; smoking, listening to music, & blogging/interwebbing. Yet I feel lost doing it. Part of that must be the anxiety over what the end result of this may be. Oddly, the PC which has been f*'ed for years, is behaving fine. So, I'm listening to Zeena Parkins ~ The Opium War. It's a radio play about well, opium, in NYC during the teens. Delicious Avante-Garde Over-the-Topness.

A journey of a couple of discs

Two very good friends of mine currently live in an apartment that I once inhabited. A lotta shit went down in that apartment, and it's more than a little surreal visiting them. ("See that nail in the chimney? That was there when I lived here. I had a picture of Zappa hanging on it.") The other day they stopped by my house and ended up borrowing a few discs, including some Bowie and Sebadoh. I realized after they left that those discs were all in my collection at the time I lived there, and are now making a journey into an apartment where they too once lived many years ago. I find it interesting that those same discs will fill the air within the same walls some thirteen years later.

*a note about the title: When I first started the Project I made an attempt to keep a journal about every single discs I listened to. Needless to say, that task failed. However, the first entry started like this: It began with Rabih Abou-Khalil. Theoretically, it will end with Zuco 103. A journey of a thousand plus CD's. The Great Listening Project.