Interpol: The Scale

I have a sequin for an eye
Pick a rose and hide my face
This is the bandit’s life
It comes and goes and them’s the breaks
Under a molten sky, beyond the road, we lie in wait
You think they know us now?
Wait ’til the stars come out
You see that
Well, I made you and now I take you back
It’s too late but today I can define the lack
I made you and now I take you back

Sun, you sleep in clouds of fire
That’s all and that’s right
My sun, you sleep in clouds of fire
That’s all and that’s right

I can still feel it when you lie
Pick a rose just to hide my face
Well, if there’s something I should know
I seek no science when there is no shape
Under a molten sky, let the days collide
Well, I made you and now I take you back

Sun, you sleep in clouds of fire
That’s all and that’s right
My sun, you sleep in clouds of fire
That’s all and that’s right


RIP Whitney

It seems the talented die young in this Hollywood world. Unable to cope with the pressures of their lifestyle and the want for nothing, the human drive is extinguished and re-ignited artificially through drink and drugs.

Imagine a life where you could want for nothing, what a boring existence- where gold loses it’s shimmer and money is like toilet paper.

A month in the life…



Reading has been pitiful recently, the winter months make me sad and in the morning when I’d usually have a solid hour to read, I have been deep in sleep on the bus. I have managed to re-read The Virgin Suicides this month, just because it is such easy reading and one of my favourite books. I have a stack of books to read when I’m on holiday in three weeks:

– Jeffrey Eugenides; Middlesex & The Marriage Plot
– Bret Easton Ellis- Less than zero
– Irvine Welsh- Porno


We started holding a weekly film night with two of our friends; we provide the ‘gourmet’ cooking and they provide interesting conversation. So, there has been a lot of film watching, with and without them:

– Bridesmaids
– The Virgin Suicides
– V for Vendetta
– Leon
– True Romance
– Melancholia

The Virgin Suicides is a great adaptation of the novel; it does leave you wanting more answers than you receive, which can quickly be sought by reading the book. I was pleasantly surprised by Bridesmaids, which promised to be ‘The funniest film of the year’- a bold claim. Having the sense of humour of a thirteen year old boy, I was dubious but the film is actually genuinely funny. Without prejudice, I didn’t expect the Americans to be able to invent a ‘Bridget Jones’ style character with any comedic gravitas but Kristen Wiig pulls off the role with such style- a likeable, funny and humble lead role. There were many laugh out loud moments in that one- and that’s praise coming from someone who only finds three films funny.

Style Obsessions

After watching Melancholia and The Virgin Suicides in quick succession, I realised what I have been missing all this time; Kirsten Dunst is a bonefide style icon. Thank you Kirsten Dunst, you inspired me to cut my hair.

She’s Lost Control

Its been a while since I was truly ‘affected’ by a film, in fact it is a pretty rare occurrence. I remember the first time I watched ‘The Green Mile’- this was a long time ago- I couldn’t sleep, I mulled it over and over in my mind for days and annoyed the hell out of everyone around me.

Last night I watched Anton Corbijn’s ‘Control’ and I was truly blown away. I’ve been getting in to music documentaries and film adaptations recently- I watched ‘Nowhere Boy’ and was vaguely stimulated and I was slightly taken aback by Nick Broomfield’s ‘documentary’ film making style in ‘Courtney & Kurt’ and ‘Biggie & Tupac’ but nothing has really come close to the dark and beautiful story of Ian Curtis’ life.

The film truly captivated my every sense, from the black and white (which perfectly cemented the darkness and depression of Macclesfield), Sam Riley’s near perfect depiction of Curtis’ singing style and the truly terrifying and lonely world created by his Epilepsy, which can only be understood as a factor which truly isolated him from everyone close to him.

Needless to say, I didn’t sleep last night- I was haunted by the spectre of Ian Curtis and the beautiful and gut-wrenching Joy Division, who I now understand and appreciate inordinately more thanks to this fantastic piece of film.

To the centre of the city where all roads meet, waiting for you,
To the depths of the ocean where all hopes sank, searching for you,
I was moving through the silence without motion, waiting for you,
In a room with a window in the corner I found truth.

In the shadowplay, acting out your own death, knowing no more,
As the assassins all grouped in four lines, dancing on the floor,
And with cold streel, odour on their bodies mad a move to connect,
But I could only stare in disbelief as the crowds all left.

I did everything, everything I wanted to,
I let them use you for their own ends,
To the centre of the city in the night, waiting for you.
To the centre of the city in the night, waiting for you.