i made a mistake yesterday, spontaneously picking up the new cruel sea album, a band i like cos even though they were a pub band they had a certain sound, a raw funk backed with a hammond driving force, but the new album just feels flat and i'm disappointed. it's nice and easy, really pleasing for a road trip to the wine districts of the hunter valley but as far as edge, it's been curved off and blunted. it's more country than surf, more listener friendly than menace, and these guys feel like they are just dealing it in for middle of the road radio fm. the instrumentals are great but still nothing to ye olde cruel sea when they just pumped along with the surf and spray. tex feels like he's mellowed out into some sort of grandpa type rocking chair nashville skyline grandpa. 

i dunno, i thought it would be better, i didn't know anything about it and got carried away by that consumer enthusiasm that takes hold when you should know better. 

anyways it was a mistake, and i will learn from it. i'm kinda over slide guitars.

strange surf the last few days, lots of chop and seaweed, beaches packed with lebanese tattoo boys, parading around with loud voices and in packs of ten, they all seem to drive the same cars and listen to the same music, doof doof doof, i dunno i hate terrible beach at the weekends, outside the crown some awful guitar player strums away singing middle of the road classics no one really wants to hear unless your tanked up on larger or indifferent to ambience. pale skinned real estate agents on their days off, flirting with the office girls, very high heels and skimpy bright summer designer dresses and the glint of gold around their necks and in their eyes, i often wonder as I watch their men close in upon them, who really is the prey. i guess it's really win win in that type of situation, lust distorts love doesn't it? hey, i know, i'm an expert. 

as wander around terrible the terrible seaside market is being taken down, it amazes me that for 10 years the same stalls have been selling the same goods, it never changes, all useless typical seaside junk, homemade oils, soap and dreamcatchers, a few pet stalls and some cheap cosmetic jewellery made from shells. the place teams with kids, all running around screaming loudly as the parents have et them off the reign. it's amazing how many people are talking on their phones, loudly, indifferent to any kind of personal space boundaries, i pick up on people broadcasting to the world about their husbands, boyfriends, children, intimate knowledge now public. all in all, it's just a irritating hum of humanity doing human things, whereas all i want to do is find a quiet spot to read my book. i've eliminated everywhere except the lord ashley lounge my winter office, perched up overlooking the beach. 

up here a private function means it's not open to the public so i end up driving home reminding myself never visit terrible during the weekend. no locals do.