Personal Terrors

I have to say, I’m really starting to get addicted to PledgeMusic. All my favourite artists seem to be on there, calling to me. After pledging to Kate Miller-Heidke a few weeks ago, I discovered this morning that Nicole Atkins is raising money for her new albumSlow Phaser, as well as the launch of her own record label. She’s an incredible singer/songwriter, one whose work has flown sadly under the radar for too long. So I pitched in ten dollars, which is about as much as I’m good for.


It’s a much better way of releasing content, in my opinion. Just take the big corporate giants out of the equation, and let deserving artists communicate directly with their fans. Make everyone independent. At least then, when I buy an album or a piece of merchandise, I know that every penny is going towards the artist, their livelihood and their creative endeavours, and not to some featureless ghoul in a suit.


Okay, so this is Slender Man, but I imagine the great majority of record executives look quite similar.

Okay, so this is Slender Man, but I imagine the great majority of record executives look quite similar.


I already used “Faceless Friends” for my last blog post, didn’t I? Crap. Shoulda kept that one up my sleeve.


On the subject of horror, though, Mum and I went and bought Halloween costumes yesterday for some themed parties and events we’re both going to. The act itself was scarier than anything either of us chose; I live in fear of the day I cross some terrible threshold and become ‘that gay man’, the one who poses with his mother in matching outfits for their annual Christmas card photo. Mum often asks why we can’t be more like Peter Alexander and his mother, to which I have absolutely no response.


After some browsing, during which she loudly commented on which masks and outfits would look cutest on me, I went with a classic hooded grim reaper cloak with billowing arms and skull mask. Because Death is timeless.


But, y'know, like a sexy Death. If Death was a hot mess.

But, y’know, like a sexy Death. If Death was a hot mess.


But hers was easily the more surprising selection – a vampire seductress costume, complete with halter top dress, choker, black lipstick and fangs. I have a photo. For your benefit, beloved reader, I do not include it here.


I’m happy she’s having fun with it, though. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her dress up in costume for a party; it feels, in some strange way, like a turning point of some kind, but from what and to what I cannot say. Perhaps she’s facing her fear. Halloween seems like the appropriate time.


My fear facing is scheduled for next Tuesday evening, when our band will be performing at the Cambridge Hotel’s music and movie trivia night. It’s Halloween themed, hence the costume, and I’ll be singing (or speaking, rather) one of the songs – I won’t say which, since guessing is the point of the exercise. It’s camp and ridiculous, which you might imagine I do quite well, but holding your nerve and maintaining your ridiculousness in front of an audience is a skill in itself.


Plus there are about a thousand verses to memorise. I’m not even exaggerating.


But, so as not to leave this post on a dreary note, here is one of my favourite Nicole Atkins songs/music videos, “Maybe Tonight”. There isn’t anything even remotely scary about the colourful circus folk you see here.



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