Non, je ne regrette rien. C'est vrai.



Discarding winter dourness and the accompanying maudlinism with the inimitable Edith Piaf.

Malbouffe

Various pieces of music I have been listening to and have been made to listen to have put me in a particularly gravid state where it sloshes about (not unharmoniously, though). Writing about it appears to me the only way to help settle this pabulum. It will take time but here's what I will be writing about in a notebook that has already seduced a page and two quarters from me:

Descent into the Maelstrom - Philip Glass (apropos Glenn Freeman)
1000 Airplanes on the Roof - Philip Glass ( " " )
Soli e Deuttini - Milton Babbitt

Babbitt I listened to out of pure narcissism. But that too shall be explored later.