all an atheist can hope for

I’m enjoying a lot of music again, forgetting how much I used to listen to music then stopped listening and now am listening again. I heard Soweto Kinch at a Patrick Neate booklaunch a cupplamunthsago, and enjoyed. I wasn’t so keen on Neate’s book, Jerusalem. He’s a bold and brave writer but the book left me with nothing to take away and progress with. Sorry Mr Neate. And I’ve dug out my old Jan Garbarek albums which I used to listen to at SOAS during my masters year there. He was by far at his best in the 1970s, methinks, with the likes of Afric Pepperbird (1970). Twelve Moons (1992) is just plain irritating and I don’t even know why I bought it other than as some kind of come-down post Shoreditch Whirlygig as it was then (when I realised that Ecstasy was very much loved by Margaret Thatcher and this was why the coppers across the road never raided the club).

Reading: Austerlitz, W.G. Sebald and Germs, Dai Vaughan, and other bits and pieces. I keep thinking I’m reading Fugitive Pieces whilst reading Austerlitz.

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