Next

Nouvelle Vague's "Ever Fallen in Love" will always remind me of VPV and our second ad together. Come to think of it, there was a tiny bit of flirting going on, I'll admit it DG. Entirely harmless though. I really get my kicks from difficult people.

2010, more than any year, has been a year of false starts. I had a feeling, I was poised for so many things wonderful, but I think I just let them all go. Easy come. Easy go.

I keep bumping into people in Calcutta I think I know. I've seen them somewhere, like maybe when I was in college, or in Facebook Albums of popular kids. And I'm certain they wouldn't remember - even though we may have spoken a couple of times. Isn't that horrible? They either think I'm a huge snob, or a little weird in any case. I hate being that way.

I'm planning to spend my new year's eve in a way I used to when I was a kid. Watching TV. Maybe add a couple of movies and alcohol in for good measure. Confession: it totally sucks being the only single person in a room full of not single people. I mean, I'm okay with the way it is - but I hate the post 12 o'clock kiss awkwardness. I'd really, really rather watch a movie.

I think I miss someone, a little more than I thought I would. I didn't think my moment of epiphany would happen in the can, with an Archie comic in my hand. Actually no. That's exactly how it should have happened, and it did. Either way, fuck. It's too tragic. I'll start becoming like Supriya debi in Meghe Dhaka Tara, screaming "Dada ami baachte chai!" with the camera swish panning around insanely around the mountains. I don't want to get TB and become a martyr. Please, please no.

I have some nice new clothes now, a watch, fake but cute sunglasses, lots of books and a shit load of films. If I only lost some weight, I think I'd be fairly happy. And I just had a beach vacation. With swimming. That's always good. The winter's been nice so far, although I strangely long for a bit of the Delhi cold. I have Body Shop Body Butter - strawberry at that - which is something I've wanted forever. I have been smoke free for 9 days and counting. I wake up late. I'm not working. Life's okay, no?

Have a happy new year everyone. It might just work out okay.

New York is cold, but I like where I'm living, there's music on Clinton Street all through the evening

Today I had my last cigarette in a cold alley in Park Street by myself. I don't why, but it bothered me. The day started out well enough. I woke up early, was unusually chirpy. But as the day wore on, I started feeling this slight dread at the pit of my stomach. I kept thinking of myself in the pictures taken during my brother's wedding and wondered who that strange, ridiculously happy person was. She looked nothing like how I felt - which was, and is, something exactly the opposite.

Cohen's Famous Blue Raincoat played on loop inside my head all through the day. Even in the morning when the light looked fantastic and it was cold and beautiful. Then in the evening, when I walked down from Xavier's to the other side of Park Street, it was like someone cranked the volume way, way up.

I took out my guitar after ages today. I played the same old tunes I always play on any guitar, because I think, that's all I know, and that's all I'll ever be able to play. I feel sorry for the guitar. It should have belonged to someone else. Someone who wanted to be a rockstar. Or someone with a little more enthusiasm.

God, what a bloody waste of a day. What a waste of a life.

God Bless the Pretty Things

I like this album. I really do. Not because I want to like it, but I like it. It's electro-poppy and not in a bad 80s way. Okay, maybe it's a little reminiscent of the Pet Shop Boys and David Bowie, but they're cool, right? Sometimes? Anyway, how does it matter?

The lads broke all sales records in the UK, yet again. Second fastest selling album of all time in the UK (don't believe me, Google it). And they'd do that even if the album was crap. Which most TT loyalists say it is. It's not ballad-y and sweet and grand - which is typically Take That. It's edgy and raw, experimental and kind of angry but without really being pretentious, which I like. It has a lot of Robbie (who doesn't really sound as good as he once did), and Mark (who has a scary voice, quite honestly), but when they come together, they kind of make it work. Gary, surprisingly has taken a backseat - but I think he's too smart to really become a wallflower. I was watching the documentary, Look Back don't Stare (which I recommend very very strongly), and you know this album wouldn't have happened without the genius of Gary Barlow and Stuart Price. The dude made the album happen, and his leadership skills have certainly improved from the last time Robbie was around.

Their hitmaker is probably going to be The Flood, the first single that they chose to release. The video is cheesy and weird - but the song is pretty epic. Great dance beats and I dare you not to hum neurotically days after you hear it. The chorus nails it - the rest of it is well, meh. Mark and Robbie get to vent a lot - political, personal turmoil all spews out in SOS and Kidz - both pretty intense, catchy tracks. You'll never believe you are listening to Take That if you hear Happy Now or even Pretty Things for that matter. Raspy, trippy, Scissor Sister-ish even. Fucking wow. But the best song is undoubtedly Eight Letters, a ballad sung by Gary (who else?) and written by Robbie - probably the best track in the album. It's clearly autobiographical, very poignant - and the fact that Gary sings it (and he sings it very very well) makes it even more special. I'll admit I've missed Gary's voice in the album, because he is a stronger singer - and can hold a tune better - but still, it's good to see the group pulling their own weights for a change. The result is a quirky, original album, not dominated by one theme or mood or voice. It's deliciously unpredictable and has Fuck You written all over it. They don't care - these five are making music after a long time, and actually enjoying it for a change.