I noticed that the Sarah Records documentary "My Secret World" is now on youtube. I watched it. Hmm...I wonder if perhaps I should not have. It was interesting to see all of these bands that I loved so dearly, once upon a time, and realize that perhaps the reason that Sarah didn't conquer the world is because these were always part-timers. Perhaps, aside from Bob Wratten, it was laways just ahobby. Bob W doesn't appear, strangely, perhaps his schedule wouldn't allow it? Or his publicist never gave him the message? I mean part-timers in that the entire documentary was a devotional filled with love, timidity(I am fond of this word just now) and a complete lack of ambition. Even during the requisite talk about how experimental the Field Mice were because they wrote boring dirges like 'Triangle" and when an ex-member of the Drums claimed the Wake did New Order better than New Order did you can sense that no one was really convinced, least of all the people who were spouting this nonsense because there was such a lack of passion from all involved parties. Maybe if they had included the sorts of people who hoarded their most venomous bile for Sarah Records reviews there might have been passion but these are people like me. Do we want pop stars like me? God no. Maybe it is because they are all old now, just as i am, and they have kids and they are sensible and proper but it was all so dull and I can't imagine anyone who isn't already a devotee being moved to sing from the hymnal. The records were a dream. It was a revelation for an introspective, stars in his eyes, romantic like myself but it represented a tiny sliver of a subset of the culture(surely filed under incel today) of outcasts that, pre-tumbler, who formed a silent non-entity that ebbed away with a whimper. My theory is because these were all middle class sorts, and then it moved futher up the income scale in the 90s and early 2000s with trusties like Pains of Being Pure at Heart and Alvvays and the aformentioned Drums. One slight annoyance to comment on, but the Drums person that appeared in this video was in elementary school when Sarah passed from the scene and yet he was presented as a representative of what Sarah meant to a kid in America. The fact that he surely had used his parent's substantial wealth to acquire the records on ebay at exorbitant mark-up is strangely left out. Maybe if Steven Wells had still been alive he might have provided a counterweight to ALexis Petridis, who is outed as a closeted cutie here, but dream timelines rarely intersect. Amelia Fletcher comes out best, as always. Julian Knowles doughty and perched in his "studio" seems the silliest. Did anyone really believe Even As We Speak were destined for greatness even as we all unreservedly love "Feral Pop Frenzy" with all our heart. I didn't make the film, I too lack ambition, but if I had I might have had less of Matt and Clare, because they are a dreary bunch, and I would have, instead, attempted to track down archival footage of the artists being interviewed(even I, hardly the enterprising sleuth have a cassette with the first ever Field Miece interview with Bob, Michael and some girl named Nina, was Shaun Brennan not available?), at the time, I would have ignored Action Painting altogether and not spent eleven seconds on the Hit Parade and finally I would sought out thousands more of the fans who delighted in the music and could offer a ray of light to help undo the unceasing drab. Update: Also, no love for the Rosaries?

Today I nearly made a post to twitter that did not opine about music. I have been haunting people acting the obscurantist while they discuss Charlie Watts' unfortunate passing or offering my thoughts on the best record that was released in September 1989. I still remmber that month because I was consumed by the Stone Roses and was debating over whether I would transfer to pre-med. I did. I did not go to medical school, however, even though I was accepted twice. My mother's heart longs for a doctor. I could be a doctor of pedantry. I recently discovered David Eastaugh's podcast where he often interviews members of indiepop royalty. I listend to a delightful interview with Paul Stewart and one with Mary and Julian from Evan as We Speak which is not quite as delightful, they are economists in comparison, but I am happily treading my way through his archives. I don't know who he is or if he was someone of significance at some point of time but he is a fan and it is lovely to hear his joy when discussing his theories on the mightiness of the SMiths and other peculiar predilections even as he offers facile political opinions that have not, seemingly, evolved since the miner's strikes. He might have a portastack on his back, I am not certain. Update: I listened to the Echobelly interview today and while I am not a fan of Echobelly I did enjoy the talk. I was chuickling when the host panicked when Ms Echobelly(sounding rather heterodox although I am sure she is well equipped with all of the other right-on views) started suggesting that people have a right to free expression and that Morrissey may not be racist after having, earlier, described her encounter with Richey Manic the night before his disappearance. That ranks up with the terminally dull singer of the NIvens explaining how Sting was his brilliant school teacher for a year before trundling off to Paris to become "famous" for surprise revelations confessed to this timid podcast host. I understand that David E is loathe to create any sort of controversy but it made me giggle and it also saddened me because this is our future where it will be appropriate to have passionate opinions about a mediocre Echobelly track but we are almost guaranteed a future where one is not allowed to discuss any issues of heft or importance. He does not have a portastack on his back, but rather he has a censorious golem extracted from his conscience whispering into his ear. Also, I dreamt that Green Greenwald was trying to convince me to vacation in Paris but when we looked at the extended forecast I decided the weather was not suitable for a vacation just then and he then tried to convince me to spray paint the skirt of my mattress gold. Gore Vidal said(likely with more wit) that people who describe their dreams kill conversations-the end.

I have been googling the title of this and also my older, deleted blogs and have mostly smiled at the odd places where my rambling incoherency has appeared either with approval or opprobrium. I once wrote an entire book and it exists on the interwebs. It was unlike thw ritings here. I did not just sit down, press play and then write whatever came into my mind, as I do here. But still, the book was dreadful. But I am tempted to write it again. I don't have the time, of course. Three kids and school and climate change and all the others but I do hope to accomplish something while I am in my mid-life pause of sorts. Maybe I will start up here again. I promised a thing, all about my favorite/the best albums of all time, but I did not deliver. I was listening to the Dylans yesterday. Maybe I could write about it. Is it the greatest album of all time? No. It's mostly bad, not like my novel bad, but mediocre and we can't stand still for mediocrity. But it did come packed with nostalgia, long drives to Ann Arbor with the window down early in the morning because I was unprepared for a physical chemistry exam so I would arrive at school at 4am, study then nap for 30 minutes and go in and do rather well on the test, quite surprisingly. College now is different, I spend approximately 1-2 hours per week on three courses and have an unblemished academic record after nearly 100 credits. Demand more from your professors comrades! I am old, I already know everything that is considered important, but YOU!, you, are being denied the rigor which shall or actually shall not mold your character! Besides, I just discovered that many of my baseball cards from when I was a child are worth thousands but how to sell without some scoundrel taking advantage of my innocence? Perhaps I will just finish our family budget and install a sprinkler system.