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Tower To Us From Here
Purple Fish On White Night
Unknown 1
Unknown 2
Excerpts
from the diary of Scott of the Antartic.
Mar 19 1910 - My dearest Emily. Damn it’s cold. We’ve stopped
for we cannot proceed any further due to the high storms. I sense my companions
feel we are doomed to failure but are trying to keep their spirits up.
Jolly good chaps one and all. We’ve all just eaten some BBQ husky
dog. Very nice it was although a bit hairy for my liking. I can’t
thank you enough for the package you put into my rucksack. The compact
disk player and Kouhei Mistuning CD is sure to give me pleasure. I’m
going to listen to it now and think of you. I don’t think the flip
flops and Bermuda shorts was such a good idea my love.
Mar 20 1910 - My darling Emily what were you thinking? I’ve played
the CD many times and verily I’m confused. This Kouhei Mistuning
group seem to be experimental artists with an abstract view as to what
constitutes music. Take track one for example. Every time it settles into
any sort of rhythm they go off into completely different tangents making
it very difficult to follow. Is it meant to be so my love? My ears and
head ached trying to keep my train of thought. I longed for a foot tapper….a
bit difficult in the circumstances as I lost all my toes to frostbite
last Friday…but found nothing here to engage and enthral me. As
for the last two of the four tracks ‘Untitled 1& 2’…well
my sweet pumpkin I just thank the good Lord you remembered the aspirin
tablets. What a confounded damned noise. Who on Gods earth would like
this cacophony? I know you meant well but this recording should come with
a general health warning.
Mar 21 1910 - My angel Emily. Old Captain Oates is struggling. I’ve
lent him my player to cheer him up. He played the CD once then said he
needed to go for a walk. We haven’t seen him since. Do you think
the music may have something to do with his departure? I know that it
wasn’t to my taste but surely there must be someone out there who
will appreciate a small piece of avant-garde weirdness. I pray it is so.
Mar 22 1910 - My little petal Emily. The storm has at last abated. I shall
write no more. We will gather our gear and if God is shining on us we
should be home within the week.
ANM