I am currently here in the RV listening to the music of Kirsty MacColl (above). She was swimming along off the coast of Mexico in 2000 when she was hit by a speedboat. Which ranks fairly highly on the standard list of Ways One Never Expects To Die. As well as, ever since, highly on my personal list of Reasons Why Maybe It's Not Such A Bad Thing I Don't Swim.
Worse, I feel like the world outside the RV* has not adequately appreciated Kirsty MacColl, dead or alive. The whole of iTunes peddles nothing of hers, not even "There's a Guy Works Down the Chip Shop Swears He's Elvis" (which, if anybody does have, you should contact me immediately).
Anyway, in celebration of that and my new home sound-editing capabilities, I'll include (at least until my blogspot quota gets crowded) a fair-use clip from her final album Tropical Brainstorm. Incidentally, Freaktoastt J covers the song, on either Fourteen Scatterplots or Heteroskedastic Park, I don't remember which.
* Inside the RV, she is appropriately revered, and indeed her speedboat accident extinguished whatever hope remained of any kind of theism taking root within this humble steel dwelling.
No comments:
Post a Comment