The rather lovely book This will end in tears: The miserablist guide to music has given me a playlist of melancholy songs I don’t know.
Marie by Townes van Zandt
Disintegration loops by William Basinski:
the iron oxide particles were gradually turning to dust and dropping into the tape machine, leaving bare plastic spots on the tape, and silence in the corresponding sections of the new recording …
Holocaust by Big Star
Past, present, and future by The Shangri-Las
Lush life by Billy Strayhorn
Dress rehearsal rag by Leonard Cohen
Highway patrolman by Bruce Springsteen
The Electrician by The Walker Brothers
Some recent photos of buildings on the move.
Workers on the McKenzie and Willis facade, High Street. Wednesday 12 September 2012.
The facade is all that is left of the Excelsior, you can see it pressed up against the shipping crates. Manchester Street. Wednesday 12 September 2012.
The corner of the Odeon and the little Christchurch City Council building next door. Tuam Street. Wednesday 12 September 2012.
A shot of the gorgeous ornate frontage on CCC building Tuam Street. Monday 10 September 2012.
Farmers building, Gloucester Street with colourful banners inside. Tuesday 11 September 2012.
Another ghost sign. CCC, Tuam Street. Monday 10 September 2012.
Workers on the Clarendon, in blossom. Oxford Terrace. Tuesday 11 September 2012.
A wall of the Price Waterhouse Coopers building, as viewed from Gloucester Street. Tuesday 11 September 2012.
Ernst and Young, Kilmore Street. Tuesday 11 September 2012.
The Odeon’s roof on the move. Monday 10 September 2012. The Odeon is being reduced in height, and is to be re-roofed.
New location for the Gloucester Sports Clinic on Colombo Street for the Thursday 6 September 2012
7.1 earthquake, 4.35am. Dad & baby checking everyone is ok.
Our chimney is on the back lawn, but you can see from a glimpse in our window and at the neighbouring Dorset Towers that the power is still on.
This made us a hub later in the day for friends who had no power – whiskeys, and charging up phone, and telling stories.
The bookcase deposited its contents and itself on the bed.
Not long after, we each went round the corner to see what had happened. It was a weird little pre-dawn pilgrimage.
Knox Church, Victoria Street.
The Daily Bagel and the Covent Fruit Centre’s facade had fallen into the street.
The same scene when the sun came up.
The petrol station filled with panicked people.
The neighbour’s jenga chimney.