...I can kick!

I have to do a lot of interviews for work. It always looks good to have some vicarious face-to-face contact in the magazine for the reader. It makes whatever you're writing about look more authentic if you've actually spoken to someone involved. No making it up or cribbing from other articles (which happens more than you might think).With the internet feeding off its own bones, republishing stories and linking links, exclusive access always looks good.

But there is a ridiculousness to it all. In games, the information is metered out precisely to a fixed plan. They might reveal a character one month, a weapon the next, a new level the one after. It's all about ratcheting out the content, click by click to keep the interest up. The result of that is that sometimes people are only allowed to talk about what you already know. 

So today I had an interview for a game I can't name which is built on surprises and twists. That meant plenty of 'we can't talk about that yet' style answers. Or worse, reiteration of the question. I consider myself a fairly good interviewer. I ramble terribly, occasionally: the bullet points in my head unraveling like meandering winds full of litter but I usually get what I want. Plus you edit out all the '...' joining unfinished clauses so you look a bit sharper. But this time was hard and left me feeling like I'd just got them to read back the feature in their own words. Stupid bloody media training. It takes all the fun out of trying to get anything juicey.

[By the way the picture and title comes from this which is possibly the best thing to ever happen in the history of the world.]

Get out clause

I've been out tonight and as much as I want to write something I simply cannot turn back time. I left work, ate, had a night out and just got back. I'm not about to start trying to be creative now. I need sleep.

The interesting thing is my tracker tells me some complete stranger arrived here tonight by searching for "stick to the plan" and "chords" (a word that pops up in a single post). Clearly it's a song they're trying to find but I like the idea that a complete random stumbled here by following Google's trail.

I wonder what they thought?

Currently into...

Is it wrong that I picked an album purely because I like the look of the singer? I know that's sort of the point: sex sells. Especially in music. But when it's obscure or off beat stuff it feels like someone, thing or ideal is being insulted somewhere. Do oh-so-arty indie acts like being noticed because they're pretty? Or is that going to offend them? The latest is Natasha Kahn from Bat For Lashes (pictured) who appeared on TV for all of ten seconds before I torrented the album and resolved to like it simply because I liked her. I was only slightly joking.

The thing is, I do like the album. I'm going to write a review tomorrow, hopefully. I'm just a sucker for kooky girls. Regina Spektor, Alice Glass, Lykke Li, Feist - the list goes on. Musical ability is always the clincher. Although any kind of talent is a +1 crush straight off the bat. Writing, dancing, Olympic rock climbing, anything; although if they say they're an artist I want to see actual art. Four years at university making silk screen prints of Jesus does not count. Throw in a "I'm from the future but I arrived via Oxfam" fashion code and an asymmetrical home hair cut and I'm in.

Not actually in, of course. If I do see someone like that I'm usually too dumbstruck to say anything. And as I get older meeting that type is getting even more unlikely. Especially as that look is harder to pull off past a certain age. The girls obviously, not me. Take the quirky twenty-something thrift store reject, add about ten years and you get mad cat lady in training. So my new project is to find the thirty-something equivalent. Suggestions? 

Is it over yet?

Today is a strange day. Partly because I haven't left the house at all (horribly, not that unusual) yet but mainly because I'm playing games, online, in an unbroken 24hr stint. This is for a magazine feature, not some weird lifestyle decision. I started at 8am and won't finish until the next 8am. I'm already getting the distant, disassociation from reality that you get from a transatlantic flight. My entire contact with the outside world has been through a headset and gChat. I might as well be in space right now.

The longer it goes on the weirder it gets. It's entering into that 'this isn't real any more' feeling that staying up late often takes. I'm quite exciting about seeing daybreak though. Anyway I know this doesn't really count as a real post but it hard to compose something when you're playing games for an entire day. My eyes hurt. And my brain. And my knees.