I have already mentioned thismorning that Saturdays are not always easy. It has something to do with Fridays but this is not your problem, mainly because it’s now likely to be Tuesday. All I need you to understand is that, at one point, it was Saturday and there was suffering. Peeps ask how I cope with writers’ [that could be the apostrophe you’re looking for] block in this state but I don’t know if there is such a thing. I think it best to just type through. You can draft for days but at some point, you have to either shit or get off the can.
The thing was playing up the other day and so the man responsible for the thing had to come in and look at it. If you’re under the impression that the thing is not my area of expertise then your suspicions are accurate. While he was in the place (looking at the thing), he picked this up. It’s most probable that I nabbed it to replace that copy of Alan Copeland’s ‘People’s Park’. #DemocracyIsDead was trending on the Twitterth and I had to wonder: Is it though? Peace must be a relative thing and that must be sad. I doubt I could summon the mental fortitude to be a combat photographer but David Duncan did. Shot over about eight days in February 1968, ‘I Protest’ (Signet Books) is a heart-stopping shout out to the men trapped in the Khe Sanh Combat Zone in Vietnam. The book is without frills, full of grain and unflinching in its account of the horrors of the battlefield. There are faces in there that stay with you. I asked Bob about it because he was there and he remembers but perhaps that’s a story for another time, when I have both the space and armour to Stan.
My father must have stood on the stairs outside my kidult chamber at one time and wished that he’d thrown out his copy of Dylan’s ‘Blonde On Blonde’ (CBS, 1966). ‘Rainy Day Women #12 & 35’ is a mood song and I think it was probably a file reference before it became an accompanying statement. Personally, I have always found the orientation of the cover a tad unnerving but that might just be me. This is a pretty neat OG pressing and a very nice bit of wax. It’s easy to forget songs like ‘Visions Of Johanna’ (yeah, that’s a live version and I love it) amid all the wire and springs - a la ‘Leopard-Skin Pill-Box Hat’ - that make the record what it is but they’re there and Bob Johnston's production has always done incredible service to a track list that is as inventive as it is a consummate artifactual testament to Dylan’s form at that point in his career. It might be the first time that I’ve ever actually got to the point of holding it on vinyl and so I’d never seen the interior sleeve design or photos before. Jerry Schatzberg cornered some real cats and - this being the real deal - it includes that portfolio shot of Claudia Cardinale that they had to take out because they didn’t ask and she got heavy fast.
It’s taken some tinkering but the TMAX gallery is starting to take on a little more shape now. There’re a whole crowd of names, faces & places in there and I’d be lying if I said that I’m not deriving some sort of pleasure from placing the pieces where they need to be. We’ll probably need to reach some sort of consensus as to how and when content becomes content but for now, you can browse on an ad-hock basis and that’s fine, right? If memory serves, you’ve had hands on that field, my two best boys, and Mr. Miller for a little while but I’m not totally sure how many of you will have seen the new kid at Kafri yet. There’s also a snap of an English Pixies mother fucker and one kinda pleasing shot of Syd’s oft abused punch bag. Matters get heated and to his credit, it’s a wise inclusion. Those ones taken inside of The Room of Trials were all +1 from 400 ISO to 800 and my suspicion is that, without a flash, that’s completely proper and correct. I worried over the focus but there are moments and elements of each that I like and so I shall do my very best to be happy.
The first thing that comes into your head might not be the most interesting. That’s where production comes in. Followed, occasionally by competent editing.
JD - TACOCAT