I was supposed to have posted this last week, but it ended up a bit glum. So after letting it simmer for a bit before deciding whether or not to post it, I’m glad I didn’t and have deleted the entire above-the-line bit and started again.
It is a weird time for 6 Days From Tomorrow and for me – being out of work redefines priorities and shifts perspective (the latter, somewhat uncomfortably), which means that the times where I’m inclined to sit here and rattle off a load of drivel are fewer as well as the funds required to buy stuff to do the aforementioned drivel-rattling. This isn’t the most expensive pastime in the world (although, certain formats dictate that it can be), but while the immediate future is a bit unsettled, I have to cut my cloth accordingly. Never sure what that idiom meant, but there you go.
All of which ties in rather oddly with something I’ve been pondering this week. At this very moment, I am waiting for a pre-ordered record (or two – there was a bit of a mixup) to arrive from the US. After tracking it from Seattle earlier in the week, it left San Francisco on Friday to I know not where, because it’s not arrived yet. I was a bit grumpy about this, as I’d paid for it ages ago and I’m really looking forward to it, and I’m not alone in this grump after reading elsewhere. This is where I kind of stopped in my tracks though – when did punctuality become so important in all of this? When did expectation overrule anticipation? We buy into this stuff not for a scheduled date, but for years ahead of us. Tomorrow I’m off to a record store (Piccadilly Records in Manchester, if you must know) to see what’s there and not worry too much about the bill, which’ll make a nice change in the current climate.
Before I start this bit, something of an apology is due for a bit of an error while doing what little I do to publicise anything on here. When tweeting each page as I’d finished them, I got my numbers wrong in haste, and pegged Mark Lanegan and Duke Garwood’s wonderful Black Pudding album as Number 5, when it was actually Number 6. Whoops. And before I had any chance to delete them and repost (because to be honest, I didn’t notice for 3 days…), these two cheeky retweets happened which led to lots of others…
It’s always a rare thrill when someone I write about likes something enough to repost it, and anyone whose read this blog for any length of time will know how much of a lift this would have given me. If only I’d got my bloody numbers right so that I wouldn’t be sitting here now in a state of mortal embarrassment. This must be how the nation’s tabloid editors must feel every time they make an error in their publications. Erm, yes.
Anyway, almost done with the end of year goings-on (Top 10 single/EPs and Top 10 tracks to follow suit either tonight or soon after), and it’s a weird year-end because I’m not sure what’s going to be happening with 6 Days From Tomorrow, at least in the short term. I was made redundant on the Friday before Christmas, and although I’m not destitute just yet, I don’t know when I’ll be back in gainful employment in these uncertain times. So unfortunately, hobbies and pastimes must take a financial backseat to more sensible matters for at least a while, as records aren’t cheap – especially the nice big waxy ones I’m so fond of. I could delve back again (part of the reason for this blog’s existence in the first place, lest I forget) for those interested in the oeuvre of Nuclear Assault etc, or maybe one or two ruminations on records, formats or anything else that annoys me. I don’t know. An uncertain future could be the kick up the backside I need anyway, as 6dft has been losing readers by a consistently huge margin all year (down by a third all the way through). Maybe this is a problem with all homespun blogs now that the bigger ones are now well established as tastemakers and bigger shop windows, maybe I don’t split my posts down into enough separate pages to get the traffic count up, maybe everyone hates the Oxford Comma, or maybe I’m just not s much fun as I once was. But sod it, if I still enjoy doing this, then I’m still going to do it.
Ranting out of the way, it’s fun to re-edit the full Fifty down into one, difficult-to-read post. These lists are all very silly anyway as they take far too long to type and become very wrong very quickly. Looking through the lists from 2011 and 2012 (never did a 2010 full list in one post, but they’re all in there somewhere if you’re bothered enough to search), there’s so much stuff at the top of each respective list that I barely listen to now, or ones near the bottom (or that never featured) that get spun constantly. They’re little more than snapshots of a week at the back end of November, which makes it all the more strange then that we all get so irritated when someone else’s list is wrong or – worse! – in the wrong order.
Anyway, thanks to everyone who’s read, commented, contributed, liked, shared, retweeted or just plain enjoyed/disagreed with having a few minutes of their time wasted (although I don’t think there’s a button for that, and so Social Media Regulations seems to mark this down as being a somewhat irrelevant activity, which is a bit of a shame really), hoping that Christmas went well for all and that 2014 brings everything you strive for. And fingers crossed, this place may still be here. Maybe with fewer mistakes. Although while I say “with fewer mistakes”, I exclude the formatting of everything below as it’s taken me ages and I’m way beyond the “sod it, that’ll do” point of the evening. Enjoy! x
Oh bugger, it’s that time of year again. I try to leave this until the very last possible minute, partly because there’s still a good five weeks or so left of the year (I must confess to not counting), but mostly because this caper tends to drive me rather mad. Still, the year-end lists are flying in thick and fast from stores and proper publications and as always they’re a joy to read, amend my own shopping habits and disagree with vehemently. I have yet to decide whether it’s a good or bad thing that the following goings-on on this site that (if I’ve timed this right) will take me from here until Christmas Eve bear almost completely no relation to anything else that anyone else has picked, but I’m determined to have a laugh by putting my own choices in some semblance of order and up on the parapet for everyone else to have a moan at or – fingers crossed – even agree with occasionally.
As always, I hope you enjoy all the bits below the “read more” thingy, and at least bemusedly tolerate the increasingly lunatic rantings that take place above it. Here we go then…
It’s Shrove Tuesday! And while the rest of the world celebrates the onset of Lent by indulging in big sparkly parades with shenanigans aplenty, we Brits pretty much fry glue. Ah well, each to their own.
But enough of this, I need to get this typed out before the unremitting misery of Ash Wednesday befalls us. This quirky gem is from an artist who appears on quite a few of the records in here either as guest vocalist or instrumentalist, but this is the first instance where I have bought something with her name on the front. And what a strange place for me to be starting this with.