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AN UNDERACHIEVING SUMMER

by Shane O'Reilly
Editor, Dublin
originally published: July, 2006

The word desperation cannot now be easily applied to me as my gasping barely mortal libido has far surpassed that.


The word desperation cannot now be easily applied to me as my gasping barely mortal libido has far surpassed that.

AN UNDERACHIEVING SUMMER

story by Shane O'Reilly
Editor, Dublin
originally published: July, 2006

So where have I been I hear you all ask? Sitting idly in my attic getting stoned on bad soap hash to Faith No More? Nope! I've been celebrating my entries in the outsideleft poll? Nope! I've been pouring over Belle and Sebastian ('Boy with the Arab Strap' is still the best song ever), the Stranglers and working in a video shop, thinking about doing some exercise, maybe weights before I head off to the burningman festival in Nevada. I had been having thoughts about writing a rather vicious satirical screenplay but I am not sure where to start at the moment. It's that sulking I am doing a lot of recently. It's all about sexual frustration and being single I think. The word desperation cannot now be easily applied to me as my gasping barely mortal libido has far surpassed that.

I have though been delving further into Asian cinema, in particular my love of Wong Kar-Wai. I'm a soft romantic at heart despite all my best intentions to ride in any other direction, say ohhh - why can't I be cruel and sexually cunning in the Chad from 'In the Company of Men' way? It's not in my nature but goodness; it'd be worth a shot at this stage, being one of those bastards - 'Yeah, I make a hundred grand a year, have the penthouse....' lies, lies, and lies just to pull. I'd never keep a straight face. But anyways, the Wong Kar-Wai stuff; it's great. His movies are so moving and real, so immersed in human feeling and anxiety, full of lines like; 'If you never give up,. There's always a chance' and 'love is all a matter of timing. It's no good meeting the right person too soon or too late'. Too good. Searching for some semblance of ones emotional wreckage in foreign films may be either an all-time low on my part or just pure escape due to the boredom of a video shop ('Do you have your card there sir? No? Ok, what's the name? I'll just look it up....). Probably both, or just the former...

Seven weeks and I'm off - Vegas first for a while. The heat is such a massively frightening factor I have decided to do my utmost to block it from my thoughts. As one can see - it is not working well... A change of route here then. I have been investigating quite a few bands via the internet that I feel should get more notice.

Headman - 'moisture'

O montreal - 'wraith pinned to the mist...'

Bobby Conn - 'Never get ahead'

Archie Bronson Outfit - 'Dead Funny'

Band of Horses - 'Funeral'

Director - 'Reconnect'

Postal Service - 'District sleeps alone tonight'

Sufjan Stevens - 'For the Widows in Paradise'

More bands next week, in more detail.

So anyway, I landed in a goth/rock club on Thursday stoned, did not score, fought with my boss all Friday (he needs his own individual article), drank from Friday to Sunday, watched a mate of mine dance on a kitchen table amongst very large polish women and managed to fit in the World Cup final with Zi-Zu's goat-like chestbutt that red carded his careers' finale...

Next week - Daft Punk's arrival!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

www.burningman.com

Shane O'Reilly
Editor, Dublin

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