The Fantastic Sounds of the Pictures

Featuring the Spazzys

I’ve taken a day off of work to get my head in order after the Melbourne trip. Rather than spend any time blogging about it, or putting up the many photos I took, I’ve spent the day pottering about the house and listening to mp3s, one of which just happened to be See You Home Tonight from the Pictures’ 2007 release The Fantastic Sounds of the Pictures.

Not only is this a great song, but it features the vocal talents of the Spazzys, so there’s frankly no circumstances under which I could ever dislike it. That said – somewhat ironically given the album title – the sound production on the track is fairly muffled and muddy, which makes it rather difficult to pick out the lyrics. This hasn’t previously bothered me unduly, but today I was struck with a sudden desire to find them out. “No problem!” I thought “I’ll look them up on the interwebs!” but to my shock and horror, I couldn’t seem to locate them anywhere.

This is not a situation that can be allowed to stand, so I’ve just spend the last half hour playing the song over and over, and listening intently to a live version some kind soul put up on YouTube. As a result, I can now present the following lyrics, which (apart from one bit in the first verse) I am 100% certain are correct.

(The bits in italics are sung by the Spazzys, just so that’s clear…)

See You Home Tonight
by The Pictures (featuring The Spazzys)

I know you won’t want to come to my party,
But if you do we’ll throw good times away,
Dance and drink the whole night long,
Until my pal, he finally lets me say…

So I’m asking you,
‘Cause he can’t ask himself,
Can he see you home, tonight?

No he can’t,
No he can’t,

I know there must be something I missed,
If he’s too shy, for it to come to this,
Well that all might be very well,
But with the crush he got on you, well I just can’t tell!

So I’m asking you,
‘Cause he can’t ask himself,
Can he see you home, tonight?

No he can’t,
See you home tonight…
No he can’t,

Now we got the sun rise up,
It’s time to know if he’s all out of luck,
Before you run and get away,
Just give us one more chance to hear me say…

So I’m asking you,
Can he ask himself?
Can he see you home, tonight?

Can he see you home?
He can’t see me home,
Can he see you home, tonight?

No he can’t,
See you home tonight…
No he can’t,
No he can’t,
See you home tonight…
No he can’t,

The Voice

Back from Melbourne.

I’ll make a more detailed post when I’ve had some sleep, but in the meantime I’m happy to report that I was witness to this on Saturday…

In fact, I’m probably visible in the background of that clip, although I was on the far side of the road, and thus you’d need a Bladerunner level of enhancement to pick me out.

Oh, and I did make it down to the Coatman and got a kickarse new coat for only $125. Brutal!

Right, getting some sleep now…

Good for What Ails Ya

There’s comes a time when, when you’ve had the same song stuck in your head for days on end, any solution becomes viable (this is what is known as The Godzilla Threshold).

My solution is as follows. Turn up the headphones as loud as you safely can and…

Listen to this, twice.

Then listen to this.

Listen to this again, once.

Listen to this two times.

Listen to this.

Finally, listen to this.

It’ll work, but I refuse to be held responsible for any side effects…

(“For the Emperium”. Heh :D)

30 Years and No Regrets

It’s 30 years since the release of first ever commercially available CD – a reissue of Billy Joel’s 52nd Street, which went on sale on October 1 1982.

The first CD I ever bought was the single of You Am I’s Soldiers.

The first full album was Dire Straits’ On Every Street.

I stand by both purchases.

Hitting the Heights

It seems odd to me that AD&D’s Ravenloft setting never included a version of Wuthering Heights.

Think about it. You’ve got the perfect Dark Lord in the form of Heathcliff, torturing his household and tormented by his memories of Catherine. Catherine would actually be a ghost, tapping on the windows at night and increasing Heathcliff’s torment. The Domain would consist of the bleak, high moors, with a few scattered houses and a single village, and the borders would be sealed when necessary by raging sleet and hail storms.

It’s such a natural fit that its lack boggles the mind. Were there no English Majors at TSR?

While on the subject of Wuthering Heights, I don’t believe that it’s possible for any human being to sing as high as Kate Bush does in the first few bars of her song based on the book. Her pitch is either a post-recording effect, or she is some kind of alien masquerading as a human being.

(I know where I’m putting my money… :D)

Oh, can I also mention Kate Beaton’s brilliant take on the book?

Wuthering Heights: Part 1
Wuthering Heights: Part 2
Wuthering Heights: Part 3

Melbourne Bound

For reasons I am not at liberty to discuss, I’ll be flying out on Thursday night to spend the weekend in Melbourne with my workmates. Oh hooray.

I should probably explain myself. Those who either know me, or read this blog regularly, will be well aware that I am an Aspie, and a severe introvert. I go to work, and do my job in order to have money to pay the bills, but when I walk out of the office doors on Friday afternoon I don’t want to have anything to do with the place until Monday morning. This isn’t because I dislike my job (any more than anyone does anyway) or my co-workers, but because being around people drains me, mentally and emotionally. The weekend is when I recharge by either spending time on my own, or by interacting with other people strictly on my own terms.

Spending the weekend in a hotel room with my colleagues – not to mention having to attend an industry event – is not going to provide the opportunity I need to recharge. By the end of the following week I shall most likely go somewhat mad, or at least become quite emotionally erratic. But hey, whatever.

On the plus side I shall have most Saturday free in Melbourne to do things with. I’m not sure exactly what at this point. The Royal Exhibition Building is a possibility and maybe the Queen Victoria Markets. I was also planning to buy a new coat as my old one is starting to look distinctly ratty, but the coat place I was looking at turns out to be run by Jews, so that’s no good.

(No – I haven’t turned into some lunatic racist. It’s simply that the coat place is closed on Saturdays for Shabbat.)

What else is there to do in Melbourne? Walk the route of the Grand Prix through Albert Park? Wander up and down Carlisle Street trying to spot John Safran? I dunno…

Anyway, that’s how I’m going to be spending next weekend. Whether I like it or not.

Fire! Fire! Fire!

Ian Hazzikostas of Blizzard commenting on how he designs encounters for expansions such as World of Warcraft: Kung Fu Panda (oh wait! sorry! it’s called Mists of Pandaria apparently…)

…and then a lot of it just comes down to what sounds cool to us. A huge firehawk that bursts out of a volcano. That sounds kind of cool. Huge magma giants. A spider that lives in a forest where the webs it weaves are made of pure fire. That’s pretty cool…

Exactly when did Blizzard hire Beavis?

On the Death of Slaydo

Thinking about things way too much

I’ve been wondering for a while about the conflicting accounts of the death of Warmaster Slaydo in Dan Abnett’s Gaunt’s Ghosts series…

First and Only states that Slaydo announced Maccaroth as his successor and promoted Gaunt to Colonel Commissar on his deathbed. The Sabbat Worlds Crusade features a painting of “The Death of Slaydo”, showing the Warmaster passing away surrounded by a bunch of concerned Generals and other officers. But Gaunt, in Blood Pact, states that Slaydo was struck down on the battlefield, and his body dragged away and mutilated by the enemy. So, what gives?

To solve this mystery, remember rule number one – the Imperium lies.

Gaunt’s recollections of Slaydo’s end are entirely accurate. But the Imperium would never admit to cocking up so badly as to let the body of the Warmaster fall into enemy hands. So, they concocted the story of his being rescued and having the time to issue a bunch of orders before peacefully slipping away surrounded by his loyal staff. They even commissioned an artist to depict the scene, and had Tactician Biota recount it in his his historical account of the Crusade. His “deathbed” orders were prepared by him prior to the battle in case of his death, and carried out by his subordinates.

(There is still the problem of tourists being shown Slaydo’s “Death Venue” on the battlefield on Balhaut, but the Balhaut tour guides are shown to be horribly inaccurate anyway. Anyone familiar with the deathbed account who visits Balhaut would probably assume that the marker shows where Slaydo was mortally wounded rather than actually killed, and that their guide doesn’t know what they’re talking about.)

So, there we have it. Problem solved! You can send me my cheque now Mr Abnett đŸ˜‰

Edit: I was lucky enough to have the opportunity to ask Mr Abnett about this, and he pretty much confirmed my version of events. Good to know!

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