Thursday, November 01, 2007
Atmosphere
7.31 On Time
I was sad when Ian Curtis died.
Or, more accurately, I was sad when the NME came out the Thursday after Ian Curtis died.
I feel sadder today.
His death seems to have been so unnecessary and so preventable. A life full of "if only"s. Control is a beautiful film (and that's not a word I use lightly or unselfconsciously). It makes the Seventies look like a very foreign country.
And it's provided me with a cracking catchphrase for situations involving desperate and doomed-to-fail solutions to dire predicaments.
"... get Alan from Crispy Ambulance!"
Chutes Too Narrow - The Shins
I was sad when Ian Curtis died.
Or, more accurately, I was sad when the NME came out the Thursday after Ian Curtis died.
I feel sadder today.
His death seems to have been so unnecessary and so preventable. A life full of "if only"s. Control is a beautiful film (and that's not a word I use lightly or unselfconsciously). It makes the Seventies look like a very foreign country.
And it's provided me with a cracking catchphrase for situations involving desperate and doomed-to-fail solutions to dire predicaments.
"... get Alan from Crispy Ambulance!"
Chutes Too Narrow - The Shins
Labels: music, nostalgia, real life
