(This post was inspired by my latest piece at Collapse Board – a bit about favourite albums – in which, yet again, I mentioned Foetus.)
I give up at 59 … too many distractions. I am trying to count how many records JG Thirlwell has made. I think I’m proving my own point about being obsessive-compulsive. “Tenacious” is the word I usually use; “like a dog with a bone” is the way other people put it, but if you ever needed someone to count the grains of sand in an eggtimer, you’d pick me. Still, I know a lost cause when I see one (does Null/Void count as one album or two EPs?), which is the wafer-thin line between me and the crazy people. So I let go of that particular strand before it becomes another brainworm. You know, like an earworm? An idée fixe, monomania of the day, Moby Dick‘s whale, et cetera. I mean, all Foetus fans are a certain level of bats*** insane – it’s the antithesis of one of those high-frequency garden cat repellers: the music scares off sane people and is catnip to us weirdos.
If you’ve been following this blog for any length of time, you might have noticed that I mention JG Thirlwell a lot. Not every post – it’s obvious I have a wide range of tastes and interests – but enough for you to notice. There’s a very good reason for this, and it’s not just because I’m the sort of person who has an in-game coin collection in Morrowind. Nope, it’s for this very, very simple little reason. Continue reading
