UTTERMEDIA

Static Shock!

Wed, 11 Jan 2012 09:45:00 +0000

Woman: *zap* Ouch!
Me: Static shock?
Woman: Yes! I seem to be getting them a lot lately.
Me: I always get them in Homebase. I think it's the trolley and the lino floor.
Woman: I got one from the bath water the other day!
Me: Really? I've had one from a car, but never the bath.
Woman: I hate it, but I have to bath otherwise I will smell.
Me: *pretend laugh*
Woman: Oh well, I'll avoid Homebase AND Tesco from now on.
Me: It's probably best.
Woman: Well... see you back here in 3 months when we have no friends.
Me: And no hair.

Hairport UK brand identity, 2011.

Fri, 16 Dec 2011 15:40:16 +0000

Hairport UK brand identity, 2011.

@MuggyLittleC's Rabbit Story

Fri, 18 Nov 2011 22:35:00 +0000

So, Mark’s brother is a gardener/tree surgeon. They were working in a large garden, up a tree. With them, their dog, who was frolicking around the garden. The dog managed to find a way under the fence into next door’s garden. He disappeared.

A while later the dog reappeared, but with a rabbit between his teeth. A large rabbit. Obviously a domestic pet, and not a wild one. The dog dropped the rabbit at their feet. It was clearly dead, with 4 large teeth marks in its neck.

Panicking, they decided to take the rabbit back next door, and place it in the rabbit hutch, and shut the door. They went back to work up the tree.

The next day, they returned, a little nervous. Whilst finishing their work in the garden, the neighbour peered over the fence. “Hello, would you like a cup of tea?” she asked. Sheepishly, they accepted.

“The strangest thing happened yesterday” she said, as they sipped Earl Grey.

“Oh?” they replied.

“Yes! Well, last week our family pet rabbit died! We buried him in the garden, but last night, I found him back in the hutch!”

@MuggyLittleC

Yeah, it’s good.

Mon, 07 Nov 2011 13:00:43 +0000

Yeah, it’s good.

The Toast Stand

Fri, 30 Sep 2011 11:05:00 +0100

So I had an idea last Saturday morning. I was in Guildford quite early, for a haircut. I’d skipped breakfast in favour of a lay-in. With a few minutes to kill before my appointment, I thought I’d grab something to eat.

My options were unsavoury, to say the least. Greggs or Burger King? Neither were very appealing, but alas, I settled for a Sausage Roll from the former. It was okay, but it was greasy and I felt like a tramp eating it.

Ideally, I wanted something more traditional such as cereal or toast. Popping into Café Rouge or Wetherspoons would have been okay, but I didn’t really have time. Then I thought to myself, what would people do on a weekday in such a situation, with even less time and flexibility?

The idea for “The Toast Stand” came to me. Come midday, Guildford’s pretty cobbled high street is gifted with a Baked Potato stand, and a Roasted Chestnut stand. So I think a Breakfast Stand of some kind, appearing at about 7am, would be perfect. Great for those who have skipped breakfast or need something extra, whilst on their way to work, or before starting a day of shopping.

The Toast Stand would grill toast, and offer a wide range of toppings as well as different options of bread. It would be cheap, and there would be no litter… all you need to eat toast is your hands – you eat the whole thing and there is nothing left. Unless you leave the crusts like a fucking child.

Have you ever seen a Toast Stand? Obviously there are stalls/kiosks in Waterloo and other larger stations selling various French breakfast snacks. But a lovely quaint British Toast Stand, I think, would be quite a sweet thing to see during a casual commute to work, or a lazy weekend morning.

If you steal my idea, at least let me design the logo.

Drive: Instruction Manual

Sun, 25 Sep 2011 18:13:00 +0100

What begins as a smooth, serene window into the seemingly comfortable life of “Driver” ascends ultra-violently into a colourful juggernaut of hard crime and effortless cool.

The main character, only referenced to by his profession, seems nonchalantly blasé about his work, his home and those around him. Initially, the only thing he has any essence of connectivity with is his vehicle. His drawn-out silences and wry smiles offer little insight into his past. His willingness to immerse himself in his love-interest’s hazardous situation offers some insight into what may or may not happen.

The Driver’s violence appears in short, horrific bursts. His driving calm and collected, whilst the city buzzes and glows around him and his passengers.

It’s not long until the nostalgically eighties score and Michael Mann-eque art-heavy shots fade away, to reveal the brooding underbelly of cowards and crooks – thrust upon you in a jack-in-the-box of blood, petrol and pace.

The characters you find yourself warming to are quickly excused and Driver, although showing occasional flurries of raw emotion, keeps his undisturbed exterior and retains a Steve McQueen semblance.

With the vivid night-time splendour of Collateral, and the audacious seedy law-free brashness of Narc, Drive is a supercharger for the soul. What could have been a car chase movie with tits and cash is beautifully crafted into a hommage to everything that you enjoy about a left-field action thriller with a truly stimulating pastiche of love and passion.

Explained: Google+ and Photographers

Tue, 12 Jul 2011 12:25:00 +0100

By submitting, posting or displaying the content you give Google a perpetual, irrevocable, worldwide, royalty-free, and non-exclusive license to reproduce, adapt, modify, translate, publish, publicly perform, publicly display and distribute any Content which you submit, post or display on or through, the Services.

The key term here is “non-exclusive”. Google are not taking ownership of your photo, neither are they revoking your rights to your own work. Whilst they can do all of the above (reproduce, adapt, modify, translate, publish, publicly perform, publicly display and distribute) with your photo(s), you can still do the same too.

Notice also “on or through, the Services”. Google aren’t going to send your photos off to some third-party website for public distribution or use. They may however use your photo as a part of their services – services that they currently offer. Eg: your image may appear in Google marketing material, or perhaps something as ridiculous as a Gmail background image. The issue here is that your image is then facing a much wider audience than you originally intended (depending on your prevalence as a photographer). We all know that people pinch photos if they like the look of them, it’s very easy. So this, as before, is likely to happen in this situation, just on a much larger scale. It’s down to you whether you are comfortable with that or not.

You agree that this license includes a right for Google to make such Content available to other companies, organizations or individuals with whom Google has relationships for the provision of syndicated services, and to use such Content in connection with the provision of those services.

Probably the scariest part of the terms. It does sound like Google will share you photos with other companies. However, ‘syndicated services’ again mean that these companies will be part of Google’s current service remit. At present, Google are not in the practice of distributing images commercially for profit or fund. If they do choose to do this in future, these terms will change and you, by law, will have to be notified (much like when your iPhone pops up a new set of iTunes T’s & C’s). If Google used your photo(s), it would only ever be in connection with services associated with Google, such as Maps, Google+, Android, etc.

You understand that Google, in performing the required technical steps to provide the Services to our users, may (a) transmit or distribute your Content over various public networks and in various media; and (b) make such changes to your Content as are necessary to conform and adapt that Content to the technical requirements of connecting networks, devices, services or media. You agree that this license shall permit Google to take these actions.

Google may resize your image, slap an ugly logo on it, or perhaps reduce the quality. No biggie, but again you may feel differently about this.

To summarise, these terms at first seem a little unnerving. But it is no better or worse than your images appearing in Google Image Search results, which, let’s face it, they probably already do, if you have a website or a Flickr account. The only difference is, Google may hand pick some of your photos from your G+ for their own use, as Google.

If you are a professional photographer you may feel that the above terms will detract exclusivity from your work, which is understandable. Perhaps slap a watermark over any content that you upload to your G+ account, or just provide lo-res/compressed versions. Either way, you won’t find yourself losing money or being exploited by Google, as their practices here are no different than Flickr, Picasa or DeviantArt. The only point to take away from this is that Google have the power to spread your image far and wide, under their own name, in a way that other online services do not.

30 Day Movie Challenge

Tue, 19 Apr 2011 10:08:00 +0100

Day 1: “Favourite Film”

The Insider (1999)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o9qCEEy2XcU

Not only my favourite film but this is by far one of the most incredibly orchestrated scenes in any modern piece. See also: my undying love for Russell Crowe.

Day 2: “Least Favourite Film”

The Happening (2008)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TIQ21m1Ks08

Is it possible to have a ‘low’ in a career full of lows? M. Night Shyamalan continues to make abhorrent movies. And people say “that was alright actually”. No it wasn’t, it just gave you something better to do than garrotting yourself for 2 hours. The worst thing about this movie? It happened.

Day 3 “Favourite Comedy”

The Jerk (1979)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4rVuZ0hJEyM

Steve Martin plays an idiotic white man born to a black family in “The Jerk”. I am hard pushed to find another actor (apart from perhaps Leslie Nielsen) who can pull off non sequitur, slapstick and classic gags in one comic episode. If you are human, this scene will have you in tears.

Day 4: “Favourite Drama”

Schindler’s List (1993)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dwfIf1WMhgc

One of the most important films of our generation, and by far one of Spielberg’s best. I was shown this at a very young age in school, and it’s stayed with me ever since. Stern characters and harrowing realism. This film should be remembered for decades to come.

Day 5: “Favourite Action”

Heat (1995)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0xbBLJ1WGwQ

Back when De Niro was De Niro and Pacino was Pacino. Mix two of the world’s once finest actors with an incredibly cinematic director, and you’re in Heat. The sound design in the gun fight scene is just rivetting. Crime has never seemed so seductive and stylish.

To be continued…

So after almost 7 years of gradually hand-crafting a unique and...

Wed, 16 Mar 2011 23:34:00 +0000

So after almost 7 years of gradually hand-crafting a unique and vibrant portfolio, I’ve finally reached a peak of confidence; enough to finally give my freelance brand that push it deserves.

Utter Media, which began as Utter Photography in 2004, has catalogued me a fine selection of photoshoots and design projects. Indoors, outdoors, home, abroad, hot, cold, paid, pro-bono, each individual assignment has been a pleasure and a challenge, and so far, never a disaster.

Last week I submitted Utter Media Limited to the government register for incorporation. This week I gained my first two permanent clients. Next week I’ll have my company account up and running. So far, everything has been invoiced as a personal endeavor. From now on, it’s account books and contracts.

Not a whole lot will change, but the sheer excitement and motivation taken from the last two weeks has given me that final push that I need to start taking this whole thing a lot more seriously and to start laying some serious work down on the table.

I’ve met some brilliant people through various ventures, and am lucky to be surrounded by truly gifted creative types who are embarking on their own fruitful careers in design, photo, music, fashion and marketing. And years from now, we’ll all meet up in some wanky bar somewhere and laugh at our first designs, photos, songs, and projects. Here’s to that day.

Tread Carefully: Rubber the movie, a review.

Tue, 15 Mar 2011 22:31:00 +0000

The first review on IMDB for Rubber reads, in a positive light, the less said about this movie the better. They are right – you would find yourself going in circles if you over-analysed this 85-minute French experiment.

The first quote I saw for this movie called it “batshit”. Tongue in cheek, there really isn’t a more fitting word. It isn’t mad. It isn’t crazy. And it is not “rAnDoM”. It’s just absolute batshit. But it works, with me at least.

Rubber follows the brief adventure of a hellbent tyre (or tire, in the movies native tongue) assassinating various animals, people and objects in its path. It stops for nothing. It’s unassuming, cute and inquisitive. But it’s just a tyre.

However, we find ourselves, the viewer, viewing viewers. You very quickly learn that this films narrative has been turned on its head. And the prologue from our main protagonist, your perfect brash beige weathered-skinned high-trousers desert cop, tells us it’s for absolutely “no reason”. And for your own sake, just remember those two words throughout the movie, otherwise you will find yourself questioning why, how and what at every turn.

With the script jumping in and out of the storyline, you’re not left alienated or confused. The minimal dialogue is basic but bold, and the casting is I think what could easily have ruined Rubber. If the acting or delivery had been anything less than perfect, it would have been a cheap b-movie disaster. Roxane Mesquida is engaging and tough, with her razor-sharp jaged physique. Stephen Spinella is dusty, ageing and cocksure, yet loveable and calm too. But the solid-gold performance is from Jack Plotnick; awkward, greasy, nervous, I found myself laughing in pity at the poor guy.

No stranger to the strange, Dupiex is probably best known as the musician and producer behind Mr Oizo and his single, Flatbeat. The keen-eared of you will recognise those low-end electro glitches and blips straight away. Shot through the eye of a needle, the digital splendour of Dupeix’s camera-work utilizes the best in what looks like HDSLR and a rather sharp stock of shallow DoP lenses. A dozen macro shots and huge contrast between warm and cold grading, the storyboard seemed to survive intact with very little CG or after-effects.

There’s not a whole lot else you can say about the film… it’s different. It breaks the barrier between the viewers and the actors. With some sly Coen-esque dialogue, and the vivid over-bleaching of Robert Rodriquez, it changes your viewing perspective by pulling you right in to the atmosphere, yet pushing you right to the back of your understanding. The same way that Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind messes with your psyche, and the same way that The Truman Show suddenly makes you question all those simple and mundance everyday surroundings.

The tyre takes you on the unrelenting journey of a maniac. Blood, sand, explosions and murder, all outro’d to a brilliant homage to 70s cop shows. Rubber isn’t unconventional. In fact, it has to follow our expected cinema conventions just to break out of them again. Rubber is the anti-movie. And it’s either right up your street, or straight over your head.

How did Trent Reznor win an Oscar and a Grammy?

Fri, 04 Mar 2011 23:20:00 +0000

Trent make toilets. Reznor make air conditioning units. You may or may not know this. You may or may not know Trent Reznor. Chances are, you’ve heard of him recently.

David Fincher, probably best known for Fight Club, and best forgotten for Alien 3, called upon Trent Reznor to pen an original score for Facebook movie, The Social Network. Once frontman of industrial pioneers Nine Inch Nails, his more recent works saw strong collaboration with Atticus Ross, a British-born producer.

A film based on the modern phenomenon of social networking with a dozen blasé references to coding and programming was certain to have a fairly technically meticulous soundtrack. Reznor is no stranger to this. Once a straggly long-haired goth, frontman to a camp industrial band, his roster matured slowly but surely with a somewhat techie approach to recording, utilising live instruments and convoluted effects through pedals, filters and pre-amps.

Since Nine Inch Nails released “The Fragile” in 1999, it isn’t unusual to hear instrumental soundscapes reaching 6 or 7 minutes per track. Perfect OST material, which was only really properly realised with Tony Scott’s “Man On Fire” and Zack Snyder’s “300”.

Reznor has (in my mind) created perfect overtures for all those movies you write in your head whilst on the bus, in bed, or just day dreaming. Clear highs and rumbling lows, it seemed criminal that only a handful of producers had sourced his music for scenes. Renowned artists such as Clint Mansell and Philip Glass have been masters at this craft for some time, so it’s perhaps a difficult accolade to pinch. This is the difference between scores and soundtracks; a score has to be just right, just perfect, to fit. A soundtrack just needs to evoke basic emotions. It’s fairly easy to chuck Sum 41 over a frat party scene in any early ’00s movie.

Some of the tracks on The Social Networks score are from NIN’s “Ghosts I-IV”, released a few years ago. I didn’t know they were in the film until I saw the film. But it soon became apparent that the earlier work was an automatic “audition” for the job. The track in question, with eastern plucky guitar riffs, fitted just perfectly into the oriental restaurant scene. A match made in Chinatown.

Reznor’s dark history is still fondly apparent in his instrumental work. The harsh scratchy guitars and pounding beats are long gone, but the twisted melodies and unusual flat harmonies are still clear. Apply this to an upbeat drumtrack, and you have the perfect accompaniment to young people getting drunk and getting rich. Music to feel cool to.

Facebook, Nine Inch Nails, Napster… none of them wanted to get rich. Zuckerberg didn’t care for ads. He just wanted adds. Trent Reznor didn’t care for money. He just wanted to make music. Sean Parker created Napster and changed the face of the music industry, forcing artists and labels to become bitter or better. Nine Inch Nails felt the pressure too, and evolved.

Around the time of Ghosts I-IV, NIN also released “The Slip”; an album available free, for £5, for £10 or for £50. How much do you pay? That’s your choice. A short amount of Googling will unearth Reznor’s new-age approach to acquiring digital media, similar to the techniques of Thom Yorke and Radiohead. Soon after, NIN launched remix.nin.com, a user-submission website where fans can upload remixes from original band multitracks.

All of the above ties in a nice parallel with Facebook; user-submitted content. The users make the choices and create the content. The creator just provides the tools and the platform.

Perhaps if a hugely successful musician (no discredit to Reznor) had scored The Social Network, things would have turned out differently. For one, Reznor is largely still unheard of – he’s a ‘blank’ to most people. They have nothing to reference him to or to base him on, nothing to skew their opinion. Secondly, he’s been gently honing his own skills out of the public limelight with relatively successful albums and tours notching up his discography whilst the rest of the world are unaware. Underground is the only way to really describe it, the same way that ‘The Facebook’ began, things start in bedrooms, back rooms, and make-shift studios.

Facebook is all about socialising, which in a sense is ironic, as you are confined to your computer more often than not when you are using it. Sure, you can use a mobile device or smartphone, but it’s still an individual experience in engaging with others. The early angsty and bleak NIN material was all about isolation, and I for one can imagine Reznor holed up in a dark room, “programming” until the early hours, much like Zuckerberg. And now, suddenly, Facebook is huge, and so is Reznor.

Two very awkward but very talented gentlemen coming into their own and finding their calling. Once, Trevor Reznik in cult movie “The Machinist” was the only sly reference to Nine Inch Nails in film. Now, two entrepreneurs coincide in a way that neither would ever have expected. I like this.

Vodka, OK.

Sun, 27 Feb 2011 19:25:00 +0000

Vodka. Not at all my favourite drink. Vodka to me is like the relative you never call. You have fond memories, some creepy memories, but it’s best for both of you that you just ignore each other’s phone calls.

As a physical liquid body, there’s not much to it. It tastes okay. You can’t savour it. You can’t tell many vodkas apart from one another unless you have some sort of outerworld lizard tongue. As an inebriating liquor, it certainly does the job.

Vodka has a special ingredient. No one ever mentions it. Everyone is aware of those facts that come rolling out when you’re tipsy… it’s made from potatoes, it is odourless, it is made with coal.

BUT… that face you pull. That face when you’ve had a fair amount of non-vodka spirits and ales to drink, but you are happy drunk, and you are with good people, in a good place, and you visit the toilet. The toilet welcomes you and you welcome the toilet. There is no sick. Just piss. You piss, and whilst you piss, you crane your neck over to the mirror. The mirror looks back at you, and you’re fucking smiling. Smiling like a dick. Like a dick who is drunk but totally okay with it and nothing is a problem. Nothing is a problem because you’re happy, and you look okay for someone who is so drunk that you’re pissing all over the carpet. The carpet that should never have been laid in the toilet in the first place. The first place you look when you see that mirror is straight into your own eyes. Your own eyes look back at you and you either say “Heeeeyyyyyy” or your brain says it for you.

You know that feeling. You’re wobbling on your feet but you’re fantastically in love with everyone and everything and you just want to drink more and more.

Vodka, however. On a fairly empty stomach, can make you feel like that, after say 2 or 3 glasses, with or without a brown, caffeine, caramel and sugar based mixer.

Vodka picks you up, dusts you off, and may even have the common courtesy to offer a reacharound. Vodka is that reassuring rub on the upper back, and then a cute little smack on the arse as you walk back to the fridge for more brown, caffeine, caramel and sugar based mixer.

I’m writing this quick, because I don’t have much vodka left. And I know once it’s gone, even though it’s a “no hangover drink”, I will read this in the morning and never want to drink it again.

But just remember, vodka drinker or not, it is always one phone call away from you, and when you pick up that call, it’s a fucking hoot.

Photo by me. 2005. I think.

Photo

Wed, 26 Jan 2011 23:39:18 +0000

My Irrational Fear of the Modern Plughole.

Sun, 19 Dec 2010 13:20:00 +0000

It’s not so much a fear, more of an adverse intrigue. And it’s not all types of plughole either. I have no idea when or where it began, all I know is that some plugholes and other similar apertures fill me with questioning and unease.

Sink plugholes I am okay with. Bath plugholes I am not. Not many people sit at the ‘tap end’… for one, the taps don’t feel so great on your back, and the plug chain can interfere with the more sensitive parts of your body. But I can never sit at the tap end, even if I’m sharing a bath with someone. I cannot, under any circumstances, remove the plug before I have left the bath. I cannot let my feet or toes touch the overflow hole just below the taps.

I guess part of it is the cleanliness OCD in me… no matter how much commercial plug cleaning fluid you dump down there, it’s still going to be full of hair, spiders, gunk and spunk. It’s safe down there… it’s not going to back up and flood the bath, unless you’re really unlucky. But then your kind friends nominate you for some naff Channel 4 ‘house cleaning’ show. It could be a fear of the unknown. I know where that pipe goes, but only as far as the end of my front garden. From there on, it’s a rusty labyrinth of muddy twists and turns; dark, damp, smelly, cold. It goes on for miles and miles and miles. Like a London Underground for skin and scabs.

It doesn’t stop there. Swimming pools. I love swimming. I love swimming pools. My parents have a pool, and I swim at my local health club a lot. However, the pool cleaning process involves, again, some pretty unnerving water traps, plugholes, vents and gutters. Subconsciously, I always avoid swimming over a grate, or swimming up to a plastic flap, lapping water back and forward like a dead pigeon flapping in the road.

The above ‘fear’ makes slightly more sense… people die in swimming pools. They shouldn’t, and they don’t mean to, but unfortunately they do. People die in baths too, but that’s usually intentional. With pools however, we’ve all heard about the poor girl who’s long hair is sucked into a floor vent. No one notices she is gone, until someone trips over her and summons a fully unprepared lifeguard. When I was about 10, I went to an incredible water park in Portugal. The day after, a kid my age got his head stuck in a water trap and drowned in seconds. Swimming pools are gradually eating the population alive.

I did take reassurance in the fact that this aversion would never really inconvenienced me. It has always been easy to avoid the ‘tap end’ or to swim away from horrible white plastic death-traps. I wouldn’t scream if I came up for air right in front of a hole. I wouldn’t whimper if a plug suddenly popped out of a nice relaxing bath. That reassurance did disappear for sometime though. I have no idea how I found it, or what got me there. But on a regular day at work, I found this…

Holy mother of God. Surely it’s just a sculpture, right? A seating area with the floor just out of view? A giant sub-woofer? No, it’s a fucking plughole. A great big industrial sized plughole, capable of moving thousands of cubics of water per minute. Where does it go? How long does it go for? Would you die? What amount of pressure would you be put under if you were sucked in? How many are there in the world? Are there any near me?

The above image ruined my entire day. I spent 6 hours Googling and Wikipeding every scrap of information I could find about this glory hole. There are dozens of them all over the world. They are overflows for reservoirs. No human being would ever survive the journey. Yet I found myself WANTING to try it. WHY? I don’t want to die. I don’t want to be sucked into a glory hole at 70MPH, disappearing into a deep, dark, dank cave, tossed and tumbled and finally spat out into a catchment area, my body turned inside out from the sheer force of the water. Yet that morbid intrigue in me wanted to have a little swim and accidentally get caught in the draw of the glory hole. Oh God. How would I shake this feeling?

Their actual name is a “Bell-mouth Spillway”. The one above is one of the highest in the world, at the ‘Hungry Horse Dam’. I wonder why they call it that? A Google image search brings up all kinds of horrors. Climbers and explorers abseil down disused spillways… I can handle that. That calmed me down a little. Some keen bloggers had uploaded photos of a disused spillway. And suddenly, to me, it became a beautiful piece of hidden architecture, no longer a colossal H2O vacuum trap.

I learned that there are no spillways near me, and even if I do visit one, I’ll be quite safe behind a fence, or in a car. So the unease and suicidal tendency soon disappeared, and I returned to my aversion of regular household plugholes. I can’t avoid them, I can’t not use them. I’ll just always have that strange nagging “What’s down there?” question in my head.

Thankfully, I don’t fear the dark, heights, or perhaps even death. Just rusty metal apertures. And plasters. I really hate plasters. You know what? Imagine a gross crumpled used plaster, floating in a manic flapping sucking water trap, in a quiet sterile pool, where YOU are swimming. Sweet Jesus.

Quiet Riot

Wed, 15 Dec 2010 00:16:00 +0000

A brief look at some of the disregarded moments at the December 2010 student protests. Click images for larger versions.

A policeman with a first aid logo on his baton.

A student trying to burn some concrete blocks.

A photographer with a ridiculous moustache.

Master shot from Saturday’s photoshoot with Cinder Box....

Mon, 13 Dec 2010 12:32:04 +0000

Master shot from Saturday’s photoshoot with Cinder Box. Shot backstage at Epsom Playhouse, a traditional theatre venue with old-school light-bulb dressing rooms.

Canon 30D, kit lens, Panasonic & Canon remote flashguns.

Treated myself to a new Canon 50mm EF II this week. Arrived...

Thu, 02 Dec 2010 17:02:17 +0000

Treated myself to a new Canon 50mm EF II this week. Arrived yesterday. The DoF is razor-sharp. Works great in low-light, which is my primary purpose for it. Will be very useful for production stills or live environments where flashguns and the like cannot be used. Makes a nice change working with a prime lens too. As everyone says, your legs become the zoom.

Remastered & Remembered

Mon, 22 Nov 2010 20:44:00 +0000

There is really no synopsis or summary I could muster to introduce ‘Pretty Hate Machine’ with the deserved adequacy. A tenacious and raw album, it marked Trent Reznor’s first commercially successful album as Nine Inch Nails. More electro and synth than industrial, the scratchy guitars and undeniably MIDI drum tracks stamped a faint trademark for NIN’s catchy but dark soundscape.

Originally released in November 1989, the album appeared through TVT Records, an indie US label now probably better known for their tumulus relationship with PHM’s publishing rights. A short album by today’s standard, Reznor has always held a place in live performances for the early material. Uncharacteristically, the live band rarely wavered from the original structure of the songs.

21 years on, Reznor regained the control of the master recordings, and naturally a rerelease was imminent. Today, 22nd November 2011, Pretty Hate Machine is rereleased, remastered and artwork reimaged.

Pretty Hate Machine, for me, is that album that has always had pride of place clattering about in my car glovebox. It’s always the last thing I pack when I move house. It’s always that first album that I sync with my iPod. However, it’s never quite been that album that you first play on your brand new speakers or headphones.

For me, Pretty Hate Machine was a soundtrack to a point in my life where I was exploring society, sex, money, freedom and mischief. A point in my life which shaped me as a person, a point in my life where I learned as much good as I did bad. On or off the rails, Pretty Hate Machine just kept playing and playing and playing, and it never got boring. I still have the vinyl and 3 different CD pressings, in a very sturdy box, in a very dark corner of my attic - probably a handful of my most treasured possessions. To mature with an album is a beautiful thing.

The production is tight, and the mastering is fairly well balanced, yet at times it sounds “4-track” and the basslines (which sound great live) are lost in the mix. The guitar can be overpowering in chorus’ and the album as a whole was probably transfered a little quiet on the final mix. These aren’t problems, just observations that I would make if I were hard pushed to find fault.

However the new mix has dusted down and reassembled the intricate tracks with near-perfection. The synth basslines now push through enough to give each track a harder groove, as a result the guitars no longer sound quite so tinny. The sampling and foley seems to have had a lot of tweaking with some of the perhaps once insignificant sounds now grabbing your attention where they never used to. Sin, especially, sounds deeper, with the attack on the keys rethought.

The most beautiful thing about the whole remaster however isn’t what Trent has done, but what he hasn’t done. The vocals haven’t been touched. Not even tweaked. In today’s musical climate, it’s wholesomely refreshing to hear natural, emotional and somewhat flakey vocals over a track that has quite obviously matured over time.

The artwork has been reimaged tastefully, but frankly, if Rob Sheridan had offered up a whole new piece, it would have been equally glorious. There is a really insightful interview here about the cover art, and how the original source files were lost altogether. As a photography and designer, I was in geek heaven reading this. When you lose, mislay or forget to save original artwork, there really isn’t much you can do. You can’t “enhance” an image, no matter what American crime shows tell you. You have to work with what you’ve got, and in this case, recapture an original concept in a modern light. When you hold an album so close to your heart, it’s almost as much a pleasure to peruse sleeve art and cover details as much as it is to listen to the music, especially in an age when the physical release becomes less prevalent, and focus is rightly or wrongly on instant sales via digital outlets.

That part of a record that you can barely hear, but gives you goosebumps every time? It could feel almost invasive if someone fucked with that. But perhaps the artist knows that the avid listeners wait, every single time, for that very bar? And perhaps by tirelessly playing the same song to different crowds for decades, the artists knows that just turning that instrument up one tiny bit will make every single one of their hair’s stand on end, harder and straighter than ever before?

"I have found that the greatest thing a human being can do for his freedom, is to make himself..."

Mon, 22 Nov 2010 16:26:01 +0000

“I have found that the greatest thing a human being can do for his freedom, is to make himself independent of what other people think of him. Only he who has managed to make himself independent of what other people think of him [one who has dropped the quest for respectability], is able to drop his social masks and become an authentic human being.”

- Atman Damani

melissakayz: Zombie idols.

Sat, 20 Nov 2010 00:10:09 +0000

melissakayz:

Zombie idols.