I've been writing a lecture on Postmodernism for the Audio students at the University of the West.
It's been fun.
I found a picture of The Simpsons draped over branches just like Dali's clocks, and also a man who draws pictures on the windscreens of dusty cars- really good copies of Mona Lisa and things.
I'm gonna show them the chewing gum painter's picture too.
Ephemera!
Also for a larf I am going to play them the 'Doh, a Deer' song from the Sound of Music, as an example of Modernism: form following function, ha ha! I was gonna try to write a Modernist jingle to do with the numbers up to eight, using the numbers as lyrics in the octave, when I realised that one had already been written by Rodgers and Hammerstein.
I'm also going to read them an Edith Sitwell poem. Many many moons ago (for verily I am ancient in years) I drew a picture for an exhibition about famous women eating breakfast. My drawing was of Edith Sitwell crunching her way through a canary, and it got mentioned on Women's Hour and Alannah Curry from the Thompson Twins got in touch, 'cos she's a real Sitwell fan She'd been getting people like Debbie Harry to rap Sitwell poems over backing tracks and she asked me to do one, but I can't rap for toffee. She did invite me to a fantastic party at her house in Wandsworth, a converted church, where people like the artist Duggie Fields hovered in the kitchen (hovered, not hoovered, silly). I had a pair of Harley Davidson tights, as I remember. Those were the stylish days; I sit here in my Tesco's bargain jumper looking like a drab anteater with a red dribbly nose and a January complexion daydreaming about warm sunshine and carefree days.
At least I have a few boxfuls of Christmas chocs to scoff, and Johny Brown's asked me on to his Resonance show on the 18th which is something good to look forward to. I'm also doing a little guest spot at the Kalamazoo this Friday, so all is not bleak.
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