Eh, lapar lah! (part IV)

this is one of my fav cincai piscine concoction, bastardised from a jamie oliver veg recipe and a nigel slater-esque method of cooking fish. it's also something that i started making after joining a gym (i'm not getting any younger). place the fish, in my case either trout or salmon filet, on a large piece of kitchen foil. a generous squeeze of lemon juice, fresh ground black pepper, parsley (fresh or otherwise) and a bit of colman's wholegrain mustard on the ikan. chuck in veg. from the illustration above, i only had green peppers in the fridge, but sliced carrots, petit pois or anything of the sort would do. then wrap the whole fish-and-veg combo loosely with the foil. bang it in the oven, gas mark 7, for a good 10-15 minutes. the looseness of the foil wrap allows the fish and veg to be steam-cooked. once ready, squeeze a little more lemon juice and drizzle some of the extra virgin. no salt. bung in some leaves, rocket, radicchio and the like. paruk!

ni ju san candles

Are you sitting comfortably now, folks?

"I am a citizen of the United States of America. Our government has been overthrown. Our elected president has been exiled. Old white men wielding martinis and wearing dickies have occupied our nation's capital."

- the opening chapter of Michael Moore's Stupid White Men

about the time the american/british coalition forces were about to invade iraq in march last year, i read michael moore's hilarious take on everything-that-is-america, stupid white men. i didn't read his current book as later on in stupid, it got a bit samey. i do have a short attention span sometimes. hehe.

not last night. i saw his palme d'or-winning opus, fahrenheit 9/11. screen 10 was pretty much half-filled (it was released last week). but then, probably a multiplex audience would prefer spider-man 2 anyway on a friday evening! i watched bowling for columbine last year on dvd, so i knew just what to expect last night as i nestled in my seat with my usual fare of nachos and diet coke.

we've all read it all before on how the u.s. of a got itself a chimp for president. reiterate these points in the initial segments he did, it still blew my mind. what followed through were several disclosures on events before and during 9/11, the subsequent failures to capture bin laden in afghanistan and the unnecessary horrors in iraq. they even had bitney spears spouting praises supporting dubya while chewing some gum. the detractors would say that moore was telling one side of a story. a half-baked yarn that moore would have us to believe. well. after the biased reporting of the war by the american media? after the u.s. government scaring the american public into thinking every man with a bin in the middle of his name is involved with al qaeda? hell yeah, this movie should be telling this side of the story!

this may not mean much in the greater scale of things. i saw a news report on sky the other day where they interterviewed a staunchly republican american couple. after watching the movie, they said that it was a wake-up call and the republicans will definitely not get their votes this coming november.

i know that michael moore is pretty sensationalist, reminding me of the syed al-attas political paperpacks that bedeck our friendly mamak newspaper stands. moore takes it a braver step further. i know 9/11 did very well in the box office in the 'states, but i don't naively expect this movie to have that profound an impact on the american people, as it takes more than just a 110-minute docu-movie to veer the votes away from dubya's next term in office. if it opens some blinded/blinkered eyes, i think that's pretty good enough.

soon forget

 
sorry is the fool who trades his soul for a corvette,...
thinks he'll get the girl he'll only get the mechanic,...
what's missing,...  ?
he's living a day he'll soon forget.

that's one more time around,..
the sun is going down,...
the moon is out but he's drunk and shouting,..
putting people down,..
he's pissing,..
he's living,... a day he'll soon forget.

counts his money every morning,...
the only thing that keeps him horny,..
locked in a giant house, that's alarming,...
the townsfolk,...  they all laugh.

sorry is the fool who trades his love for hi-rise rent,...
seem the more you make equals the loneliness you get,...
and it's fitting,...
he's barely living,... a day he'll soon forget.

that's one more time around,..
and there is not a sound,...
he's lying dead, clutching benjamins,..
never put the money down,..
he's stiffening,...
we're all whistling,....

a man we'll soon forget.

(vedder)
©2000 innocent bystander (ascap)

The webslinger cometh... or swingeth, rather

i used to really love marvel comics when i was 12 (all credit goes to turq). i got into (the amazing!) spider-man a little bit, reading stuff from the lee-ditko era (reissues, i ain't that old!). the story-telling was great. spidey's witty retorts and taunts did it for me! the villains (a new one every issue) were varied in powers and skills (the usual fare of the green goblin, doc ock and electro, to name a few) but some were rubbish (namely kraven the hunter...). my spidey experience was however limited to the early part of the 80's as i'd pretty much lost interest when i entered boarding school.

well. saw the first ever showing of the eagerly-awaited spider-man 2 (with the lip-tenyeh-ing uncut and sans subtitles) on its official day of release early this morning. 0005 hours. on a 'school night' (hah! what, me worry? i saw britney *oops* in a city 90 miles away on a 'school night'). went with the neon, and arrived a little on the early side. long live geekdom (loads of 'em jay and silent bob types at the cinema, in various shapes and sizes too)!

i know many have blogged about this superb effects-ladened cinematic piece. from the well-written, to-the-point kinda reviews to the incredulously verbose what-the-hell-are-you-talking-about-THIS-IS-SPIDERMAN-NOT-TERMS-OF-ENDEARMENT(!) kinda write-ups.

both the neon and i agree that this movie rocks big time, exemplified by the photos seen khere*:



khere:



and, khere:



(*the word here: to be read with an arabic lilt, and accentuate the R's...)

to quote stan lee, excelsior!

and by the way, captain john jameson. don't think your poster boy good looks (i'm sure you gals find him oh-so dishy *swoon*) can charm our M-J. go piss off to the sea of tranquility on your bloomin' apollo rocket or something! (you go, peter!)

apart from the obvious clues on who the baddie might be in the next movie, i thought there is also a subtle clue, especially to readers of the spider-man comics, of another possible villain in the works. we shall wait, with bated breath.

[acknowledgment: thanks to sony pictures for making their pics downloadable on their website (all credits to them!)]

Alamak

something really fucked up happened. 75% of the template was accidentally wiped off when i was updating a few minutes ago. so, if you see some little differences (like not seeing your blog linked to mine *hehe*), it'll be rectified soon.

thank goodness, for i actually saved the template on word (a virtue of being mildly OCD).

later.

All those yesterdays

thanks to ecrivez and the nirvana vs. pearl jam slot on mtv2, i am back in the pearl jam state of mind, musically. after picking up my les paul yesterday with the single video theory dvd playing in the foreground, i remembered.



given to fly?

[update: i felt i didn't do the ed vedder pic justice, so here it is in its entirety]

A Rush version of the classic Crossroads?

i got rush's new ep, feedback, in the mail yesterday. great covers! and i almost forgot that i had tickets to see them this coming september at the nec arena in birmingham. this was them live at red rock amphitheatre in denver, CO, two weeks ago:



to actually listen to their rocking stuff like 2112 and tom sawyer live? i simply c-a-n-n-o-t wait, man!!

*playing by-tor and the snow dog in my head with glee*

Eh, lapar lah! (part III)

well, that's what i said driving back from the multiplex last night. there's a recent trend of halal chinese restaurants in britain lately. an example is chopstix at oxford street and charing cross road (nearest tube: tottenham court road) where i finally could enjoy lemon chicken and egg char fan without guilt :) . being peckish, i decided to head for noodle inn at london road for a little take-away.




had deep fried sotong in garlic and chilli and sizzling chicken in black bean sauce. i've been here a couple of times with friends and the food here is simply yum. their pak choi masak oyster sauce, albeit so simple, is just one of my favourites.

i know if you are in malaysia, all these are pretty much tak heran (muhibbah restaurant in taman tun, my favourite!) kind of fare. suppose that i'd just like to point out that i find this halal trend a welcoming one, especially when one could only order king prawn dishes every time one goes out for a chinese meal in this neck of the woods!

Of bedknobs and broomsticks

finally had time to see harry potter and the prisoner of azkaban yesterday evening. i read the book somewhere over asia in january 2002. i was on a plane :) , immediately continuing off where chamber pretty much left off. yes. it was a rather pathetic attempt at a potter marathon. hey. i had to keep up. book number four was already in paperback! after buying the books at whsmiths, i looked around and found it rather peculiar to see every other passenger at LHR, including the woman in the seat next to me on the plane, reading harry potter.

i couldn't exactly remember much of the book. i knew it had dementors and the first emergence of sirius black. cuaron's vision of j.k. rowling's third instalment of the series was dark. in many sense of the word. invokes the thought of empire strikes back when i first saw it in 1979! ain't that sunny like columbus' two earlier versions. grey overcast skies. a tim burton-cum-batman kind of gothic feel to the hallowed halls of hogwarts. quidditch in a thunderstorm. a meaner mutha of a whomping willow. yeah!

the kids have grown up (and before harry sprouts facial hair to look like hagrid, they'd better hurry up with the later sequels!). gone is the hogwarts public school-esque preppiness. the unkempt comprehensive look is the order of the day (*someone's feeling a little elitist this afternoon*). michael gambon does a good dumbledore although i preferred the late richard harris' portrayal of the headmaster. with all the recent deaths of great actors recently, i digress, i'm glad george lucas had finished principal photography for episode iii! i thought gary oldman was simply class, and an apt choice for sirius. really looking forward to the sequels now.

by the by, in one of the earlier sequences of the movie, in the leaky couldron, i thought i saw ian brown of the stone roses! if it was him, cool cameo!

the next book is apparently called harry potter and the half blood prince. call me an overgrown kid, but i can't wait!

Money, money, money... it's so funny!

if my good old btu4 buddy had told me earlier, i'd now be on a plane. flying to this city here.



yup. stockholm.

the weather's apparently gorgeous. the sun does not set at this time of the year. blondes (of the female persuasion, thank you very much) have legs up to their ears (*dream on*).

it's too late now. the last flight to arlanda is at 1735 hours from manchester international. aaaaaaaaaaaargh! damn, man!

so, bunkeye. the next time you plan to come to any part of europe, please do tell me in advance, okay? :)

You wanna homp, ya focker?

i don't know what it is with the telly, but yet again, flicking the channels on sky two nights ago gave me another piece of pacino magic on the screen! this time it was brian de palma's carlito's way. pacino being his usual fiery self, mean ass mo' fo. then, guess whom i saw in one of the scenes?

viggo 'aragorn son of arathorn, isildur's heir' mortensen. from the following dialogue by viggo's lalin (thanks to imdb, as i couldn't exactly remember the lines word-for-word), you'd never thought that this was the man who would be the king of men of middle-earth.

"look what I got to go around with, man - fucking diapers, man! i shit my pants every day! i can't walk. i can't HOMP (sic)! why don't you just kill me, you COCKSOCKER (sic)!!"

class.

For those about to rock (we salute you)

(young, young, johnson)
©1981 j albert & son pty ltd
ac/dc, for those about to rock(columbia)

Thankyouverymuch! Ah ha ha *snarl*

while i was in the car on the way to work this fine morning, i found out on radio 4 that history was made 50 years ago today in this unassuming red-bricked building.



a young man and his two friends were recording tunes and the studio owner, sam phillips, told them to start packing their instruments as he wasn't exactly impressed with the ballad-y tunes they were playing. just as his two friends were calling it a day, the young started singing that's all right, a blues number, and sam phillips just told them to stop packing and start recording. after 3 to 4 takes, history was made.

that young man was elvis aaron presley. his two friends were scotty moore and bill black.

50 years ago today, rock & roll and what we all know as pop(ular) music was born in a room at sun studio in memphis, tennessee. many legends the like of jerry lee lewis, b.b. king and howlin' wolf have recorded their material here. if elvis had gone home that night, music as we know it today will de different. there would have been no beatlemania, no chart-topping hits on the airwaves, hendrix wouldn't have burnt his strat at monterey, no mtv (yikes!), kurt kobain wouldn't have unleashed the sound of a pissed off generation, and yanni would have been the mainstay of music today (*evil grin*). as far as i am concerned, i'd probably hadn't had bought cashload of cd's and guitars.

i believe a reunion extravaganza will be held at the studio and radio stations worldwide are gonna do a broadcast of that seminal elvis track sometime later today. to quote neil young, i'd say "keep on rocking in the free world"!

Any given Sunday

woke up this morning, had a shower. then fiddled with this:



went to waterstone's and bought this:



later at home, read (or rather, flicked through) this:



did some cooking and had this:



if only life was always this simple. have a wonderful week at work, people.

Goodbye Anna, hello Maria!

why this sudden interest in sports? (*getting ready for jeers*)



managed to watch the last two games in maria sharapova's winning set against serena williams just a few minutes ago on bbc2. 13th seed and only 17, she's russia's first woman to win the singles women's championship at wimbledon. watch this space!

Careful with that axe, Eugene (part VII)

we come from the land of the ice and snow
from the midnight sun where the hot springs blow
the hammer of the gods will drive our ships to new lands
to fight the horde
singing and crying
valhalla, i am coming!

words/music: j. page, r. plant
©1970 superhype music inc ASCAP
led zeppelin, iii (atlantic)

the devil's right hand, some would say? i acquired this vintage sunburst les paul standard in 2002 (it was built on the 258th day in 2001) before a gig i played with suck. i remembered firr's face when he asked me where i borrowed the les paul from.

i remembered talking with friends about guitars from makers like paul reed smith in the days when a prs became a more of a fashion statement. all you need is a heavy yet catchy metal tune, and probably look cute clad in a dvs tee and a pair of carhartt denims way down low. your record company will be most likely to get you prs guitars, with a mesa dual rectifier full stack in tow. one thing about prs guitars, they are so expensive. in fact, many (read: sour grapes) would go, "...no way i'd play them", but secretly harbour the desire to own ten.

i decided to get the real axe of the gods of rock (quoting dewey finn shamelessly here). besides, i had been eyeing this beautiful carved chunk (one piece, i may add!) of mahogany for a couple of months. it was also the time when the new(er) and pricier les paul standards were coming out from nashville (with vintage pickups and hardware). i was surprised no one bought it after so long. i felt it was so much nicer than the honeyburst that hung next to it.

so one day, i bit the bullet and told good ol' lee of sound control to bring the guitar down for a test drive. i'd also got him to match the price with a competitor, and i got it for a few (hundred) quid less. the guitar played beautifully.

first of all. i'd like to say, i am not that good a guitar player. honest. my scales go only in the same three fretted box. probably give or take two frets on each side. my licks are sloppy (and noisy... trabye said nirvana was the only thing i could play :P). my only forte, if you can call it that, is rhythm work.

my point is?

this les paul make me sound so much better. i know that tone comes from the guitarist although the guitar, and the amp have some part to play as well. like i could give jimi hendrix my xingxiao strat and i'm sure he'll recreate voodoo chile as it was in 1970 (this remark goes to the people who moan about how they'd buy a signature series axe and still wouldn't sound like guitarist x. like d'uh...).

the les paul was easy to play. in my opinion, when the guitar is of good quality it feels easier and sounds better to play. when that happens, it motivates me to improve myself (i know, *lazy git*). i'm not surprised as this was some quality craftsmanship we have here. i have read that the gibson somehow didn't maintain the same standard in quality control for its les pauls prior to 2002, which means getting a really good guitar off the rack would have been pretty much a hit-and-miss kind of thing. i must have been one lucky customer, if that was the case.

it's pretty heavy, made of mahogany with a maple top and nitrocellulose finish (i wonder what it'll look like in 2040!). i must say i had back ache for the first couple of weeks playing it. the neck was rounded (1959 profile). the pickups are not as strong as the ceramic ones in my explorer. tone-wise, this guitar sings in a variety of voices. this guitar can either sing sweetly or screams maniacally. take your pick.

since owning this les paul, i've always gigged with it. i finally got to do a pearl jam tribute set last year with cicatrizRG/lamson radius/kiasu king, who also by the way, used a gibbo (gold top, nice!) les paul at a gig in newcastle.

Why did the chicken go to the penguin house?

write a caption. or better still, an answer to the above query.



sorry. can't be arsed to blog today (also found out that the uk is 2 weeks behind malaysia with regards to the release of spiderman 2. sheesh).

[note: this was taken in london zoo early this summer. just don't ask.]

A donkey's tale... and it ain't Shrek 2

was flipping through the channels on telly last night, and came across michael mann's heat on one of the sky movies channels, just getting into one of the movie's many memorable scenes. it was the bit where al pacino's tough cop vincent hanna was interrogating a slimy-looking hank azaria, who went, "why'd i get mixed up with that bitch?"

pacino just gruffly went, wildly gesticulating in reference to a particular part of the female anatomy, with his eyes wide open, "cos she's got a GREAT ASS!!! and you got your head all the way up it!!!".

memorable, as pacino does.

and i'm sure one knows a few people one would simply love to say that to.

Eh, lapar lah! (part II)

a fine british institution. i love my fish and chips. i'd go for haddock over cod any day. everyone has their own favourite chippy where they'd get their habuan. mine's called the broomhill friery which is a little distance away from where i live, but it's worth the 5 minute drive. i like my fish crisp and these guys don't go soggy by the time i get home. and i like 'em boneless. proper. some freshly ground black pepper. no salt. a squeeze of fresh lemon juice instead of the usual malt vinegar, although sometimes balsamic vinegar if i feel a little saucy. also some lingham/tomato ketchup/hp sauce combo for the chips. some baked beans would do absolutely fine. piping hot and eaten with the fingers, the fish still in its newspaper wrapper. bliss.

G3... or should I say G2 and a half?

there used to be a time when i'd revise the back catalogue of a band/artiste prior to watching a gig. i suppose that behaviour is pretty commonplace. listening to some bootleg dylan on the motorway to newcastle, that's what we did a couple of years ago.

well, not this time. i've not listened to steve vai's nor joe satriani's current albums. i suppose i kinda prefer their older material. typical. i felt i should just wing it. let the music carry my senses to another level kind of thingy. heh!

i bought the tix for the G3 gig in nottingham a couple of months back and i felt lucky to have bagged myself a decent seat in the house. i've watched the fillmore dvd where they had yngwie malmsteen on the bill. i was expecting robert fripp to be a totally different kettle of fish.

a different kettle indeed. fripp's soundscape was gently laid down just like as if an artist was painting on canvas. huhuhu. no, not trying to sound pretentious here. this was avant garde. of the relaxing kind. hypnotic swirls of colours illuminate the background while the processed sound of fripp's les paul fills the hall with an orchestral feel. fripp didn't appear to do much apart from stepping on a switch or two while holding a note. i have to say i wasn't expecting this on a G3 gig, although this progressive guitar playing was actually expected from this veteran from king crimson.

fripp's short yet interesting set ended to be continued promptly by steve vai. little stevie vai, such a nice little boy. with billy sheehan on bass and jeremy colson on drums in tow, they kicked off with sheehan's shyboy. sheehan's mic wasn't switched on which was an absolute fuck-up by the front of house engineer. sheesh.

vai's guitar acrobatics were simply astounding. how the hell did his ibanez jem stay in tune with all that whammy abuse? vai does have long fingers, and i bet he could spread them up over 7 or 8 frets. i knew i was enjoying myself immensely as i was mouthing every single note that came warbling out from vai's guitar. *sad* but i didn't care :P

tony macalpine and dave weiner formed the rest of vai's entourage. macalpine also doubled on the keyboards (he is an accomplished pianist in addition to being a guitar virtuoso). they rattled on with tunes like the animal and bangkok, with weiner handling the oriental sounds on the coral sitar.



whispering a prayer was superbly done, with vai playing the notes with every available ounce of energy. and for the love of god. how can you top that? i saw vai 11 years ago on the sex and religion tour, and bloody 'ell, he's definitely not lost that touch. if you think you've seen it all before, live or on dvd, well i saw it last night.

there was a 20-minute break while the road crew sorted out satch's set. with a synthy intro by robert fripp, joe satriani, jeff campitelli, matt bissonette and galen henson came on stage to rock us with satch boogie. the actual album lineup! stu hamm was on bass duties when i last saw satch at wembley arena in 1996. satch was clad in his (?)funky red sunglasses and this lampshade-ish fishing hat. though with his guitar playing, he could wear a hula skirt for all i care!



cool #9, always with me always with you, war and is there love in space were some of the song titles that i could remember. that's what happens when one hadn't listen to the current material. unlike vai's set where the entire band were able to showcase their fret-wanking skills, satch basically ran the show on his set. whilst bissonette is a brilliant bassist, i felt sorry for henson who quietly played his g&l and les paul in the background. the finale came with 'flying in a blue dream', which words just couldn't describe. probably one word. excellent.

the G3 jam went on with satch's band providing the backbone of the set. i wondered how robert fripp would fit in the grander scale of things that is the G3 jam. i've seen how malmsteen arpeggiated his way through voodoo chile on the dvd. but fripp? the jam commenced with satch's own ice 9 from his surfing with the alien album. nice touches from vai in the licks section i should say. i wished they had brought in billy sheehan for the jam as well. oh well, too many bassists spoil the mix (?). they went on to perform red from king crimson's 1974 album, well, red. to be honest, i've only listened to a king crimson album only once in my life. like 7 years ago, and that was the court of the crimson king lent to me by my professor who used to be this hippie dude when he was a student in cambridge.

the jam went on with a vai song (sorry. don't know this one). rocking in the free world which for me is a staple ditty of a pearl jam set list as a tribute to the godfather of grunge, neil young, was the finale of all finales of the evening. fripp's solo was bizarre albeit refreshing as opposed to vai and satch's solo that we all know and love. after more mind-boggling shredding, the gig was finally over. apparently i could've met vai and satch if i had waited in the concert hall. it was a school night. i had work the day after. perhaps in the foreseeable future.

one thing i have to say, whatever your inclination as a guitar player is, experience a G3 gig once. it's simply an unbelievable experience.

for more pics of the gig, click here.

Eh, lapar lah!

i felt hungry. and i need to stop having bastardised indomie goreng. headed off to good ol' yafai for some minced meat and other provisions, and i spent about 20 minutes preparing this souped up bolognese. do the sauce just like your sicilian grandmother taught you (really?). add the meat. put a fistful of garlic and herb fresh tagliatelle (sainsbury's best lah) in boiling water, add a dash of the extra virgin, and let it simmer. spruce the dish up with a dollop of mozarella, some salad (no rocket today), freshly ground pepper and some ciabatta (soaked up with more olive oil). i'm good to go!

esok malam jangan lupa pegi gym.

What's your poison?

for a music lover, i found that i've not paid a visit to good ol' play.com in a long time. in the good old days (no, it wasn't 20 years ago), i'd buy cd's on a whim. reasons i'd use to justify my purchase were innumerable.



my friends keep raving about it. buy it.

kerrang! says its good. buy it.

the chick on the cover/in the mag looks gorgeous (read: avril's debut). buy it.

oh, we got tickets to see the gig? buy it.

that one song is good (err... the rest must be good). buy it.

i can go on. really.

my amassed cd collection is impressive. numerically. there are more gems than there are duds, though, i have to say. i started buying cd's way before owning a cd player (didn't buy one until i started earning, as dosh from parents were used strictly for... food! yum!). when i finally got my pioneer pd-s703 (not much by today's standard, but it was the dog's bollocks in its heyday), the rest is history.

rock music forms the bulk of my audio optical media repertoire. from metallica to pearl jam. from nirvana to train. and to (pause) the calling. everyone has a soundtrack of one's life. i can pause and look at the cd's on the rack, and little segments of old memories would come flashing by. before you think i am waxing lyrical on sentimentality, worry not. the music, for me, is played to rock.

in many sense of the word.

in my adolescence, rock epitomises coolness (it still does now i'm afraid. yeah!). i got to be on the cool side of the kutus in school (having a quasi-encyclopaedic knowledge of metal bands was useful then :P). the double-sided imported (rm50 was then the norm, and this was 1986) rock tees were also the shit.

as i grew older, my musical tastebuds evolved. in university, the seattle sound was new (i once dismissed a friend's invitation to see nirvana for a mere £8, something which i have regretted to this very day) and i was still in my metallica and guns 'n' roses phase. the (so-called) elitist attitude to all things rock in me yielded finally, and my staple was then the likes of pearl jam and alice in chains.

by that time the guitar was something i began to learn playing. i have also found that i had a peculiar way of listening to tunes. i discovered that quirk when i noticed i had a hard time remembering lyrics. bud, my then housemate, was already warbling fountain of wayne tunes while making dinner in the kitchen after a mere second listen.

i found that i was only subconsciously listening to the instruments that were being played, whilst the lyrics only went yadda yadda, over my head.

i then realised why it took me 6 years to know enter sandman by osmosis.

my guitar playing was improving over the years as i would religiously sit down learning a multitude of tunes from a cd playing in the backgound. when i don't have family/friends/a band (delete one) to jam with, i'd jam with the bands. there had been nights when i was the third (fourth if you include ed) guitarist along with messrs. mc cready and gossard, playing an entire 2 and a half-hour setlist 'in front' of a crowd at the seattle key arena (among other venues!) on a winter's evening. now, that's what a good sound system and some imagination can do.

the cd collection then grew as my ears now yearned to appreciate the world outside rock. my reading of the subject had shown me music's evolution. also, i have friends who suggest to me material that i must check out.

i needed to listen to other genres.

rock and jazz wouldn't be around if it wasn't for blues. many rock guitarists cite other influences to be where they are now. and pop music actually is good when written well.

it was time to step outside the box.

i took baby steps, by still listening to guitar-oriented material. bought cd's that were highly recommended like passion, grace and fire by messrs. de lucia, di meola and mc laughlin. robert johnson's king of the delta blues singers. the who's live at leeds.

and singer/songwriters. cat stevens and bob dylan are simply superb. wouldn't have listened to joni mitchell's blue if it wasn't for travis. also, the current crop of women songwriters are really good (mc lachlan, jewel, to name a few), in my humble opinion. i know. i am a late starter, but i will get there soon enough.

currently i listen a little more of blues, like clapton. to mention the blues as one example, i began to really appreciate why rock music is played the way it is. trabye and the neon have also given me some tips in blues playing. a real eye opener. and not to worry, just because i have the muddy waters' chess sessions and a couple of stevie ray vaughan cd's, i won't be citing them as a major influences! one day, i would love to, though.

so, what have i bought this past month?

miss lavigne's new album has suffered the curse of the sophomore effort. she's playing sheffield this october. wanna come with me?

maroon 5. hmmm. they have a fresh sound for rock band, although i'd describe them as justin timberlake on guitars with a touch of gloria gaynor.

in flames' soundtrack to your escape showcases exceptionally precision metal playing as a band, although you have to excuse my untrained ear that i've heard this all before in the guise of bands like fear factory.

the corrs' borrowed heaven. haven't listened to it properly yet. one thing for sure, though, the sisters still look great.

i never despair if no gems are found in a month's purchase. i have a back catalogue the likes of zeppelin, hendrix and pink floyd to fall back on. on vinyl to boot. but that's another story.

so, what's your poison?

At last we will reveal ourselves to the jedi, at last we will have revenge...

thanks to trabye, i have found my new true calling.

as a star wars fan, i'd recommend you to try this and find out!

:: how jedi are you? ::

Drifting to heal

i am such a slowpoke when it comes to reading. it took me 9 months to finish tolkien's lord of the rings when i was 18. well, i did have my a levels then to concentrate on. nevertheless, i don't read fast. unless it's a compelling read.

and in my case, a very compelling read. which is pretty rare, by my standards.

i've just finished reading neil peart's ghost rider: travels on the healing road. peart's the drummer for canada's progressive rockers, rush. he's the lyricist (nicknamed the professor due to his prolific lyrics) for rush and is one of the greatest drummers of all time. the book (which is a sophomore effort for peart) is about a tragedy he endured in 1998.

in the space of 10 months, he lost his only daughter, selena, and later, his wife, jackie.

how does one cope with such personal tragedy, i wondered. he blamed 'a broken heart' for his wife's death even though a diagnosis of cancer was given by her doctors. as a form of therapy, peart chose to take his bmw motorbike and get on the road. a road that went on for 55,000 miles from quebec to belize, via alaska and the west coast of the united states. he called himself the ghost rider, a ghost of a man. nothing but an empty shell with no hope. no meaning to continue on with what is left of his life that he's had with the ones he loved dearly.

as peart makes his way through the various landscapes, i could feel how he had to endure a myriad of emotions, from anger to the incessant sadness, reliving his loss. at times hilarious, his journals were also filled with the sights and sounds of the places he visited as well as the various characters he encountered. as the journey reached its destination, i also appreciated how his views on life were slowly evolving into acceptance of his personal tragedies, finally getting on with his life. the book ends with a happy ending actually, where he finally found someone who would be his current love of his life.

throughout his ordeal, peart considered himself 'retired'. rush was in a hiatus, during which time they released their triple cd live album, different stages. peart finally regained his courage and confidence to return to work and they released vapor trails in 2002 after which, they completed an american tour. this year marks their 30th anniversary, in which they are touring again (got tickets to see them in september!). all's well that ends well, as you can see here.



the book ends with these apt words from bravado, a track from their 1991 album, roll the bones:

and if the music stops
there's only the sound of the rain
all the hope and glory
all the sacrifice in vain
if love remains
though everything is lost
we will pay the price
but we will not count the cost

Sakit unta

short hiatus due to an infective disease called writer's block. so, i'm just gonna do a couple shoutouts:

check out trabye's tantrums if you are into music (viva la nepotism). a new(ish) blog where you can add in your two cent's worth about the malaysian music industry.

also, i should applaud ash's brilliant blog. i just enjoy to see how the page evolve into what it is now. check it out, as it's well worth a visit!

doc del is leaving for malaysia tomorrow and we hope she would still keep her blog running for the next couple of months. have a safe journey!

the neon. bring us back a couple of cheese scones, will ya? make sure they aren't the same (ehh).

lamson radius/cicatrizRG... i await your 1000-word essay.

hehe. have a good day.

Careful with that axe, Eugene (part VI)

"...i ask those who have something against mexican-made fenders, who did you think leo fender hired at his fullerton plant in the 50's and 60's?"
-anon.

-----------------------------------------------
this is my fender standard series jazz bass. i bought it in 2001 because of a gig i was gonna play in. you heard right. besides, i really 'needed' a bass guitar anyway. i had my heart on the '75 jazzes but the american vintage reissues would've costed me an arm and a leg. in the late 90's, the japanese factory had a cheaper version of the '75, with block inlays and all. probably costed at about 25% of the american ones. well, it's too late for that as they don't make 'em in the land of the risin' sun no more.

bummer.

the reason i chose the jazz over the precision was due to its slimmer neck. it was really comfortable to play those tunes that i had learn over the span of a week (entered a battle of the bands in leeds). it was a tad lighter than the american ones as the body was made of poplar. still sounded gorgeous. in later gigs, this jazz bass had been pummelled by the likes of liza and firr (suck and sun redd sun, respectively). hey, the whole band had to use branded gear, right? [i make no apologies here. if people can dress up in armani to look good, we do the same to sound good...hah!] riki the kiasu king of sun redd sun can attest to this.

like most of my other musical possessions, it hasn't been gigged for about a year now, although we do use it for the odd sesh now and then.

Trust me, I'm a sensei

akahige (red beard) marked the end of the kurosawa-mifune collaboration that had existed between 1948 and 1965. it took kurosawa 2 years to shoot this ambitious cinematic piece. the set was constructed in its entirety to represent an entire town, a trademark of kurosawa that signified his attention to fine detail. after weeks of owning the dvd, it wasn’t until the recent weekend when i had a chance to sit down to relish another of kurosawa’s masterpieces.

set in the 1860’s, the story revolves around yasumoto (yuzo kayama), a young upstart fresh from a prestigious medical school in nagasaki, with aspirations to become physician to the shogun. he was assigned as an intern to niide sensei (played by the bearded toshiro mifune), the stern chief physician of a public clinic treating the hoi polloi of a small town. obviously disillusioned by the poor state of the public clinic, yasumoto begins his internship with much contempt and reluctance, trying to get on akahige’s bad side at every available opportunity. however, yasumoto's resentment for akahige’s unorthodox method of medical practice as well as his taciturn demeanour gradually subsides, as he learns akahige’s true nature as a great and kind physician who works tirelessly for his patients. the turning point in yasumoto’s attitude towards the art of tending to the sick was after treating an abused teenager, otoyo.

what struck me while watching akahige were the parallels seen in medicine of the past depicted in the movie with current day practice. the donkeywork of a newly qualified house physician today was reflected accurately in yasumoto’s tenure as akahige’s kohai. the day-to-day dealings with outpatient clinics portrayed here was not much different with those seen in an nhs district general hospital. human issues like poverty, child abuse and mental health were also elegantly illustrated (the child who stole for food, the teenager forced to be a geisha at the tender age of 12 and the daughter of a nobleman who hung herself after suffering from schizophrenia).

this movie made me wonder how this once arrogant graduate from nagasaki was transformed into the emphatic doctor, relinquishing all manner of creature comforts and the chance of becoming a successful shogun’s doctor, so as to treat those who really needed help. on reflection, i wondered what i’d really be like if immediately after graduating from newcastle, i was sent to the far reaches of malaysia.

selfishness over selflessness? i will never know.

Press START to begin

"want to buy this game or not?"
"what game you got?"
"onimusha 3, ma. new one"
"good aa?"
"can kill thousand people one. good la..."

that was last february. it has excellent gameplay. true to his words, the feeling one gets from killing thousand people one was exhilirating. pity the whole thing was in japanese, including the text. as expected i didn't get very far due to language constraints! the good news is next week, capcom's english language version of the oni's blood-drenched exploits will be released on british shores. can't wait.

so i had to make do with onimusha 2, which i bought second hand from game. what i didn't count on was its addictive nature. the storyline was pretty basic. a warrior called jubei of the yagyu clan returns to his village to find it destroyed by the warrior-turned-demon, nobunaga oda. so, all i needed to do was go on a killing spree (demons, of course) whilst building up my skills, weapons (including upgrades) and solving occasional puzzles along the way. for all you role-playing gamers, this is usual fare. however, unlike the final fantasy series, onimusha is pretty much a no-brainer. its the square button all the way (including the occasional triangle and R1's). yeah!

after about 12 hours of gameplay, i finished the game this afternoon. if it wasn't for the fact i was given the option of changing the game mode to easy after completing about 75% of the game, i would never have felt like going all gung-ho, slashing up the difficult (not any more) bosses including the head honcho, nobunaga himself, to call it a day. even the final manifestation of nobunaga was pretty much laughable. kicked his golden ass real good. can't wait for the sequel.



i still have final fantasy x-2 to deal with (in between exam revision... huhuhu).

do you ps2?