It occurred to me, as I stumbled somewhat exhausted out of last night's screening of Paul Thomas Anderson's epic movie about oil, greed and murder, that both this film and The Assassination Of Jesse James seem to be a return to the kind of filmmaking not seen since Heaven's Gate.
News reaches me from my house that the Radiohead discbox has turned up, with another CD of new songs to go with the ones we already know from the "In Rainbows" download. I'll try and get my head round those in time to blog tomorrow.
I guess it’s still fairly early in the morning, but I’m struggling right now to think of many players around at the moment who are as slippery and compelling as Will Oldham. He’s had, by his standards, a relatively quiet year. But the other day, a new mini-album turned up unexpectedly, a few days after it had actually arrived in the shops. Like a big American urban star or Radiohead, clearly Oldham has abandoned the niceties of advance releases for hacks. Which is fair enough, if a bit frustrating.
The post seems to have finally sorted itself out, so a decent load of new records arrived at Uncut yesterday, making today's playlist feel a good bit fresher than some of late. Regular readers should be reassured that, though, Radiohead is uncharacteristically absent, I'll probably put it on after this Butthole Surfers reissue has finished. Some things shouldn't change for a while yet, I guess.
Just spent most of the afternoon in some kind of company blogging seminar (conclusion: I think I may be doing it wrong), to find the new Black Mountain album waiting for me. We're now trying to play it for the third time without it jumping. But in the meantime, here are the day's other selections: a couple of vague dogs in this lot, if memory serves.
