James_Berry Photography
P is for...
... Iggy Pop, PJ Harvey and Pixies!
A massive time-consuming triple bill today! One problem, I have discovered, with us reaching the end of the alphabet closest to the floor is that we come away with arm-fulls of CDs, rather than individual selections. It took quite some time for us to whittle it down to just three choices. I was a little disappointed that 'Screamadelica' fell at the final hurdle and didn't make the cut as (a) i've not listened to it in a long while and more importantly (b) the cover would have complemented Niamh's outfit nicely.
So, pre-morning-nap, and first up is Iggy Pop's 'Lust For Life'. Now, this time of day is never really the best to ascertain a reaction - we tend to get weary and distracted until we can be persuaded to entertain the possibility of perhaps having a snooze. But the title track, as you can probably imagine, with its titanic drum hook, got her moving with some fairly impressive marching on the spot. The rest of the album received variable results, but given its pre-kip handicap, I think we can safely give it the thumbs up.
A fairly brief one hour nap today, but that's plenty enough to recharge her and ensure that she is suitably rampaging for a playback of Pixies' seminal 'Doolittle'. We have a little mosh together to 'Debaser' and she gets particularly feverish all on her own to 'Tame'. There then follows much nodding/head-banging. We engage in a touch of ballroom dancing to 'Hey' (it can be done!), which she finds quite agreeable, laughing her little head off as we pirouette around the lounge (space allowing... our flat is not quite ballroom sized).
Niamh has a little ride-along mouse called Millie who is essentially her best friend. During, I think, 'Monkey Gone To Heaven' I noticed that she was wobbling behind the sofa at least a foot taller than usual. Rushing to see how she had achieved this, I found her balancing precariously on Millie like some trainee gymnast. I blame the Pixies.
PJ Harvey's exquisite 'To Bring You My Love' was our third and final CD. I was reminded just how rough, constantly emotive and deeply, deeply flawless it is. I had forgotten. All hail. Niamh, on the other hand, had obviously lost her patience with reviewing albums and other than rocking out in brief recognition of the filthy bass lurch of 'Working For The Man', just went about her business...
P is for...
... Iggy Pop, PJ Harvey and Pixies!
A massive time-consuming triple bill today! One problem, I have discovered, with us reaching the end of the alphabet closest to the floor is that we come away with arm-fulls of CDs, rather than individual selections. It took quite some time for us to whittle it down to just three choices. I was a little disappointed that 'Screamadelica' fell at the final hurdle and didn't make the cut as (a) i've not listened to it in a long while and more importantly (b) the cover would have complemented Niamh's outfit nicely.
So, pre-morning-nap, and first up is Iggy Pop's 'Lust For Life'. Now, this time of day is never really the best to ascertain a reaction - we tend to get weary and distracted until we can be persuaded to entertain the possibility of perhaps having a snooze. But the title track, as you can probably imagine, with its titanic drum hook, got her moving with some fairly impressive marching on the spot. The rest of the album received variable results, but given its pre-kip handicap, I think we can safely give it the thumbs up.
A fairly brief one hour nap today, but that's plenty enough to recharge her and ensure that she is suitably rampaging for a playback of Pixies' seminal 'Doolittle'. We have a little mosh together to 'Debaser' and she gets particularly feverish all on her own to 'Tame'. There then follows much nodding/head-banging. We engage in a touch of ballroom dancing to 'Hey' (it can be done!), which she finds quite agreeable, laughing her little head off as we pirouette around the lounge (space allowing... our flat is not quite ballroom sized).
Niamh has a little ride-along mouse called Millie who is essentially her best friend. During, I think, 'Monkey Gone To Heaven' I noticed that she was wobbling behind the sofa at least a foot taller than usual. Rushing to see how she had achieved this, I found her balancing precariously on Millie like some trainee gymnast. I blame the Pixies.
PJ Harvey's exquisite 'To Bring You My Love' was our third and final CD. I was reminded just how rough, constantly emotive and deeply, deeply flawless it is. I had forgotten. All hail. Niamh, on the other hand, had obviously lost her patience with reviewing albums and other than rocking out in brief recognition of the filthy bass lurch of 'Working For The Man', just went about her business...