Spent a small part of the day reading one of the back issues of The Word, the magazine, well two actually, I bought cheap when we were last in KL. This, my reading thereof, was prompted in part by the fact that on a visit to Parkway Parade yesterday evening, the first time we've eaten out this Ramadhan, I bought the latest copy of The New York Review of Books, laving me a little backed up as I've not yet completed the previous July edition. The material accumulating is not exactly threatening, it's all very readable stuff, but I don't want to fall too behind and feel like I'm throwing money away for the sake of it.
I realised when I read what I'd written in This Place last year about the edition of The Word I picked up then that I hadn't been terribly impressed, and I feel something similar today. To some degree the magazine is informative, particularly with regard to certain kinds of music I enjoy, but I'm not sure I need to know all this stuff. I get enough hot recommendations from the limited sources I browse to have more than enough ideas for what to listen to and who needs much more than that? The rest is just talk. Mind you, having said that, the free CD that comes with each magazine is a pleasure to listen to, and I now find myself set on getting hold of The Decembrists's last album as a result of enjoying The Rake's Song, and the article on the band in the magazine.
I also greatly enjoyed the series of short articles on bands associated with the Island record label, which was undoubtedly my favourite label as a kid. That turned into a bit of a nostalgia fest for me, but I rarely indulge in that regard so I don't think any great harm was done.
But it's the numerous articles that try to be funny about stuff that's current that tend to wear me down. I'm not terribly interested in what folk deem to be the latest thing to watch or listen to, and find it difficult to see the point of a piece that reviews dull documentaries in order to show how incisive the writer can be about other people's dull documentaries.
Mind you, this may also simply reflect my middle-aged lack of any sense of humour whatsoever.
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