I have started a Substack, which is maybe counterintuitive to having a blog, but I guess we are all more inclined to click a newsletter in our inbox than to read a blog post on here. Or not? Maybe some of you are getting this via your email accounts now — who’s to say?
It’s a ploy to organise all the thoughts I have been having this year, of a variety of subjects, and have them out to readers in short posts faster than I can log on here.
I’ll endeavour to cross post, but should you wish to subscribe, you can find the latest products of my ever sporadic ramblings and workings of my inner cogs over at my Dream Palace — please sign up if you’re so inclined. Or maybe not. No pressure. Maybe you’re not reading this at all?
August was hot. Work was slow. I took a week mid-month and devoured book after book. Six in two weeks, sometimes one per day, which is a record for me. Here is what I read, mostly music-oriented books; if you know me and my interests, you’ll understand.
Dirty Rocker Boys by Bobbie Brown with Caroline Ryder
Cherry on Top by Bobbie Brown with Caroline Ryder
Slash: The Autobiography by Slash and Anthony Booze
Daisy Jones and The Six by Taylor Jenkins Reid
The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo by Taylor Jenkins Reid
Steven Adler: My Appetite for Destruction by Steven Adler with Lawrence J. Spignola
He had that voice, a voice that could tear you apart while comforting you at the same time.
Seeing Linkin Park for the first time, on MTV in 2000, it was impossible not to be floored by the gentle-looking blonde boy infusing his lyrics with all the pain he had endured, and would continue to endure throughout his life. A talented, young, brilliant musician. A tragic, heart-wrenching death.