I went to a parade yesterday and to a buffet today.  I have a little to write about, but don’t have enough time to write anything substantial at the moment.

Also, if anyone is interested in viewing the Tobe Tobe Newsletter, just follow this: CLICK HERE!

It was mostly done in Word with a few pages done in Illustrator. It’s not crazy artistic, but it gets the job done. Hopefully you’ll learn a little about Go! Fly! Wheelchairs. At the moment, they are applying for government funding and if things go well, Go! Fly! will be able to expand a little. Things look pretty good for this small NPO and everyone is quite excited at the office. Everyone is working hard to make sure their acceptance will go through properly. I wish them the best of luck.

In other Go! Fly! news, I’ll be taking part in the workshop move tomorrow morning. Currently, the workshop they are in has been donated to them, thus being free to use. The company who has supplied this space has found their own use for this workshop and has asked Go! Fly! to move to an adjacent workshop. It will remain free to use, but unfortunately, is smaller than the existent shop. While you can’t complain about the situation, it will make things a tad difficult as space was already quite limited already. The new shop with make things tight, but will work just fine.

Guess we shall see how things go tomorrow.

I should have a new post up within a day or two covering the parade. GET HYPE!

Ho

photo source

I am bound to fly in Mindanao then Cebu, south of Manila mid this week and i am just not in the mood.  I am still at the height of my momentum in my running and swimming program and now it will be delayed again.  Bummer.

If it’s not about P1 million business deal, i won’t fly there.

How many times have you managed to swat a fly with your hands? Difficult is not it? The secret behind this ability is now known explanation.

For 20 years researching biomechanics wing flies, Michael Dickinson of the California Institute of Technology (Caltech) recently broke now. That was because he was always curious about the simple question, and frequently asked questions many people he encountered.

“Now I have the answer,” said Dickinson, who conducted the study with Esther M and Abe M Zarem. He discovered the secret after recording a number of maneuvers that threatened blow flies using a digital camera that can record speed and high resolution.

They found that flies can identify threats based on the location. His brain will calculate how far the threat against him before deciding to beat their wings and escape.

After predicting the direction of the threat, foot rests to fly in the opposite direction. All the preparation can be done away with very quickly, only 100 milliseconds after it detects a hazard.

“This shows that the fly’s brain processed fast sensory information into the appropriate response to the movement,” said Dickinson. In fact, flies regulate posture as a big threat.

That is, the fly has been well integrated with the visual information from the eyes and metasensorik information on his feet. These findings provide clues to the nervous system of flies and shows that the brain is a system of mapping the position of the threat.

“This is a transformation of stimulus into the slightly complex movement and subsequent research to find parts of the brain that govern them,” he said.

Of the system, Dickinson also can suggest the most effective way to hit a fly. According to him, the best time to hit a fly rather than when its position ready to fly, so the time needed to anticipate the threat is relatively much longer. Of course not easy to make accurate movements of less than 100 milliseconds.

Tell me this isn’t the cutest interchange between my kids:
Britton: “I know how children can fly – they can ride on God’s back!”

Kariss: “You don’t have to ride on God’s back because you’ll have wings in heaven.”
I love how the practical mixes with the etherial in their minds. Ah, if I could only be more like the little children…

I hopped off the plane at LAX with a dream and my cardigan
Welcome to the land of fame, excess, whoa am I gotta fit in?
Jumped in the cab, here I am for the first time
Look to my right, and I see the Hollywood sign

This is all so crazy, everybody seems so famous
My tummy’s turnin’ and I’m feelin’ kinda homesick
Too much pressure and I’m nervous
That’s when the taxi man turned on the radio

And the Jay-Z song was on
And the Jay-Z song was on
And the Jay-Z song was on

So I put my hands up, they’re playin’ my song
The butterflies fly away
I’m noddin’ my head like “Yeah!”
Movin’ my hips like “Yeah!”

Got my hands up, they’re playin’ my song
And now I’m gonna be okay
Yeah! It’s a party in the USA!
Yeah! It’s a party in the USA!

Get to the club in my taxi cab
Everybody’s lookin’ at me now
Like “Who’s that chick that’s rockin’ kicks
She’s gotta be from out of town”

So hard with my girls not around me
It’s definitely not a Nashville party
‘Cause all I see are stilettos
I guess I never got the memo

My tummy’s turnin’ and I’m feelin’ kinda homesick
Too much pressure and I’m nervous
That’s when the DJ dropped my favorite tune

And the Britney song was on
And the Britney song was on
And the Britney song was on

So I put my hands up, they’re playin’ my song
The butterflies fly away
I’m noddin’ my head like “Yeah!”
Movin’ my hips like “Yeah!”

Got my hands up, they’re playin’ my song
And now I’m gonna be okay
Yeah! It’s a party in the USA!
Yeah! It’s a party in the USA!

Feel like hoppin’ on a flight, on a flight
Back to my hometown tonight, town tonight
Something stops me every time, every time
The DJ plays my song and I feel alright

So I put my hands up, they’re playin’ my song
The butterflies fly away
I’m noddin’ my head like “Yeah!”
Movin’ my hips like “Yeah!”

Got my hands up, they’re playin’ my song
And now I’m gonna be okay
Yeah! It’s a party in the USA!
Yeah! It’s a party in the USA!

So I put my hands up, they’re playin’ my song
The butterflies fly away
I’m noddin’ my head like “Yeah!”
Movin’ my hips like “Yeah!”

Got my hands up, they’re playin’ my song
And now I’m gonna be okay
Yeah! It’s a party in the USA!
Yeah! It’s a party in the USA!

(CFD.net.au – Contract for Difference, Share, Forex, ETFs, Commodities Traders) – Qantas says it is working with the manufacturers of the Airbus A-380 to fix a flight stability problem with one of the super jumbos it has on order.

The airline’s fifth A-380 was due to arrive at the end of this month but its arrival has now been put off until December.

Qantas says the delay is because it is discussing flight trim issues with the manufacturer.

The flight trim system keeps the plane flying straight whether it is operated manually or on auto-pilot, but Qantas says any suggestion the plane cannot fly straight would be incorrect.

Steve Purvinas from the Australian Licensed Aircraft Engineers Association says it is not a safety issue, but the aircraft becomes less fuel efficient.

“A trim system on an aircraft is designed to keep your aircraft flying straight through the air, when you’re travelling along a path you want your aircraft lined up like an arrow rather than flying through the air like a brick,” he said.

“What can happen is the aircraft can start to oscillate in a figure eight pattern, but you try to avoid all those things with your aircraft having an effective trim system.”

Three A-380s have already been grounded this year.

One plane has had to have its fuel tank re-lined, while there were nose-wheel problems with another.

Source: Qantas talks straight on Airbus problem

Jeg har plutselig oppdaget hvor dypt interessen for fly og luftfart sitter i meg. Entusiastisk frekventer jeg daglig norges største online-forum for flyfreaks;  Scanair på jakt etter nytt om bransjen, stilige bilder eller spennende reiserapporter fra reiser verden rundt. Her har jeg alltid et kjapt overblikk over de viktigste sakene i bransjen for øyeblikket. Og dersom jeg oppdager en spennende nyhet i medie som ikke er nevnt enda er det bare å poste en link og så er diskusjonen i gang.

De siste ukene har jeg virkelig fått oppdage gleden ved å søke på nettet etter billetter verden rundt. Widerøe’s side er den har brukt til å booke mine siste reiser. Jeg lager fiktive jorden-rundt-reiser for meg selv. Velger destinasjoner og reisetidspunkt. Kommer faktisk så langt at jeg få reservert seteplass. Da bruker jeg nettstedet seatguru.com for å finne de beste sitteplassene. Leker med alternative reisemetoder. Hva med å ta en mellomlanding i Munchen på vei til London? Mulighetene er mange! Leken varer helt til jeg skal fylle inn betalingsinformasjonen. Da er det bare å lukke vinduet.

Å drive med slike sysler er en ting, men når man skal ut å reise ja da er det flynerden i meg virkelig får boltre seg. Bare så det er sagt. Selv for oss flynerder kan en vanlig flight over fjellet til hovedstaden være ganske så ordinær. Likevel kribler det nok litt ekstra. Ikke bare under avgang og landing. Men også det å rusle rundt på flyplassen og snuse inn alle inntrykkene, de reisende, de som jobber der, og ikke minst følge med på annen trafikk er med på å gjøre det til en totalopplevelse. F.eks det å bare se et Olympic Airways starte opp å taxe ut på flyplassen i Chania var spesielt for meg. Blant andre høydepunkt må jeg nevnte hoppet mellom Sogndal og Sandane i sommer da jeg fikk muligheten til å sitte på klappsete i cockpit’en. Stort! Og vi må da ikke glemme flyturen med den lille Cessna’en på mitt eget utdrikningslag. Stort! Alt i alt har jeg mye bra å se tilbake på. Men det er heldigvis mye å se frem til også. Aller først blir tur til Køpenhavn med flybytte i Sandefjord(!) om ti dager.  SAS sin direkteflight på formiddagen ble faktisk utsolgt før jeg rakk å bestille, så da ble det propell-fly med Widerøe istedet. Returen går direkte med SAS og jeg får en ny flytype i samlingen. Nemlig en av SAS nyeste  Bombardier CRJ900. O lykke!

Jeg er nok ikke blant den som flyr mest. Men når jeg gjør det koser jeg meg fælt. Hadde flyreiser vært billigere hadde jeg nok reist mye mye mer. Bare for flyingens skyld. Men heldigvis handler livet om så mye mer….

Artist: Nirvana
Song: Lake of Fire
Album: MTV Unplugged in New York

This song is actually a cover of a song by the Meat Puppets, but I've tabbed it
the way Nirvana plays it on their Unplugged album. Listen to the song to get the
the strum pattern.

INTRO/VERSE (ALL CHORDS BARRED):
G  F Bb  G  C Bb  G  F Bb  C  F Bb G

G                  F            Bb
Where do bad folks go when they die?
G                                 C      Bb
They dont go to heaven where the angels fly
G                           F        Bb
They go down to the lake of fire and fry
C                             F       Bb G
Wont see them again till the fourth of July

CHORUS/BRIDGE:
Dm                Bb*
I knew a lady who came from Duluth
Dm                          A
She got bit by a dog with a rabid tooth
Dm                           Bb*
She went to her grave just a little too soon
C*                               Dm*
And she flew away howling on the yellow moon

REPEAT FIRST VERSE AND THEN:
(Same chords as chorus/bridge)
Now the people cry and the people moan
They look for a dry place to call their home
And try to find some place to rest their bones
While the angels and the devils
Fight to claim them for their own

Repeat first verse again and then brief solo with same chords as intro/verse, then
you're finished!

*Barred

Juelz Santana Ft. Yelawolf – Mixin’ Up The Medicine
Gucci Mane – Lemonade
Lloyd – Fly Away
DOWNLOAD INSIDE

NEW EXCLUSIVES! ONLY ON RUNNJ.TV

Juelz Santana Ft. Yelawolf – Mixin’ Up The Medicine
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Gucci Mane – Lemonade
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Lloyd – Fly Away
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13:50pm – London, Heathrow to Dubai now boarding! Twas the biggest feckin plane I’ve ever been on with an upstairs downstairs the whole lot. I’m shuffling along behind a group people all wearing the same orange “LOVE JESUS” t-shirt… dunno what they’re hoping for in Dubai. I walk miles down the plane (yah seriously miles) trying to find my seat. I pass some old Muslim guy praying to the seat in front of him. There are all sorts on this plane. Elvis, Mother Theresa the lot.

My seat is j70 or something like that, and I wonder what type of character I’m going to be sitting beside. A mad Arab, some big happy African businessman, those crazy jesus people… who knows? I reach my seat anyway and give a nod to the younglad sitting beside me. He has a certain go about him… a ceann… I ask him where he’s from and he goes “Carlow”. Can’t get away from the feckin Irish!!! He’s on his way to Dubai for a connection to Australia. We skit and howl for a while.

Takeoff time approaches. Our seats were right in front of the air hostess seat, which is facing us, so this nice black hostess sits in, and it’s kind of funny because there’s about one meter between us and we’re face to face. Where will I look? Up, left, right, down, oops! don’t look down, she’ll think you’re looking at her legs… well you are, but still… hmmm have a quick gander at this magazine… diddle dee doo… I eventually say well howzit goin? She’s from Zimbabwe, and I tell her I’m going traveling around East Africa, which she’s delighted about. We talk about her country, she tells me lots of places to go and things to see and blah de blah… After take off she heads off for a while and returns with a camera. She takes off her Emirates air hostess hat and asks me to put it on so she can take a photo! She takes a few snaps and gives me a polaroid copy. I must say I looked quite DASHING with that funky hat…

Not much else happened, chatted with the paddy beside me, slept a few hours, ate some pretty good Indian food or Dubai food whatever it was. Arrived in Dubai at about 12:30am local time… There’s an 8 hour stopover so I try to find a place to kip. I found a quiet enough bench after about an hour of wandering around. Took me a while to get to sleep…. The morning call to Allah woke me at about 5am. I suppose I shouldn’t have went to sleep outside the feckin prayer room, but it was the quietest shpot at the time. 10 minutes later and the morning call is still going strong so I pack up my €2 Shop travel pilla and head off to grab some free brekky in the special “Emirates Stopover” lounge. I finally board the plane to Entebbe at 8am.

Flight to Entebbe: Not much happened. Got to see a real desert out the window. It looked pretty hot. Sat beside two Chinese people… We stopped in Ethiopia to let a few people off, saw a huge black flying insect thing chasing our plane as we took off for the second time towards Entebbe.

Raid on Entebbe: Finally I arrive in Entebbe on Tuesday at 2:15pm after a solid lump of traveling. It’s pretty hot and humid… just as you’d expect in the Devils Petri Dish. Welcome to East Africa!

The sweat from the last 20 hours of traveling had turned into a sort of gel, and now hot and humid Entebbe has defrosted it. I’m a walking tub o’ absolute shweat. But that’s ok cos everyone else smells of shweat too. Up at the customs desk, they’re charging folk 50dollars here and there for entry into the country… the guy looks at my passport and says “Irish are OK” and waves me through. Sound.

Dinas brother Bashir (pronounced BashEEL) is waiting for me with a “SEAN COOKE” sign outside the door. I feel all cool and important. I should have worn my shades… This was all organized in the last 24hours. I rang my aunt Dina the night before and asked “hey throw us a few numbers of your relatives I might call in for a cup of tea some day”…. and now one day later her brother is here to pick me up. He’s 35 years old but looks much younger, at times he looks like Wesley Snipes. He’s about 5ft 5, he has one front tooth missing, he has a slow hearty laugh like “heh… heh….heh….heh”. He has a wife named Aisha and four kids called Bushuwa, Haji, Jab and Brehma. Can you tell who’s a boy or girl just from the name??? His family live back at his village Masaka, but he sticks around the city during the week. I thought he lived in Entebbe, the town we flew into, so I was looking forward to acclimatizing to the weather and culture and all that before hitting the crazy capital, but he tells me “Let’s go to Kampala”… which is the capital. I said “aren’t you supposed to show me a nice aul hotel here no? Dina told me you were going to show me”… and he goes “no…. we are going to Kampala!”

I was happy and terrified at the same time… From Kilsheelan to Kampala in 20 hours. I could suffer an overdose of mentalness….

I’m sweating buckets and need some water quick, but no, before I know it we’re in a taxi going 100mph down the road. The speed limit here is 100KMPH, but lots of people here drive old cars whose speedometers are still in MPH, so they just drive at 100MPH.

“Why are you driving so fast?”

“Look the speed limit is 100, and I’m driving at 100!!!”

“Yeah but that’s miles per hour…”

“No it’s 100 which is the speed limit, so I’m OK!!!”*

(*actual conversation)

I suppose it doesn’t really matter because if their cars speedometer is in kph, they just break the speed limit anyways. The drivers in Uganda are simply nuts. No two ways about it. They take a lot of risks, stupid risks, (like over taking two trucks on a blind bend up a hill with a dip… at night. No exaggeration by the way.) And don’t get me started about the potholes, you could pitch a tent in the smaller ones.

*NEWS UPDATE* – A minibus was crushed to bits on the Jinja road when an oncoming truck decided to overtake 9 vehicles at once. The truck didn’t make it to the front in time and smashed into a minibus killing everybody. 15 people in total. I saw them dragging the bodies out of the ditch on the news. The truck driver fled the scene. A few days prior, a military truck smashed into the same type of minibus killing nearly everybody. The military guys fled the scene. This sort of stuff happens a lot…

We’re on a good road though, Entebbe road. It has a few streetlights, and it’s the only one in the country with cats eyes. But it’s daytime so that doesn’t matter. I turn to Basir and tell him I’m roasht. He laughs “he….he…he…” and tells me it’s winter in Uganda. “Only” 25 degrees. He says he’s cold. He teaches me some Luganda, their local language. Oli otya jebale ko. Kaaaaaali! The word I’ll be most acquainted with is Mzungu, which means white man. He told me to expect to be called Mzungu at least a hundred times a day. It’s not a racist term, it just means “white dude” …. like “Hey mzungu you wanna buy this?” etc. There are t-shirts for sale around town which say “My name is not Mzungu!”

Nearly every car or truck has black smoke billowing out the exhaust and into your lungs. There’s naer an NCT to be seen for MILES in this country. Cars are driven to shite here and are fixed at the side of the road whenever the wheel or roof or whatever finally falls off. The pollution isn’t too bad when you’re driving fast, since you can just drive straight through the clouds of black smoke, but as you enter the city, and get yourself stuck in a Kampala Jam, that’s when your lungs are shown a thing or two about how to make a good phlegm. There is thick smoke and dust EVERYWHERE. Red dust. The roads are tarmac but they are red from the dust. Paths are concrete but they also have a nice red covering. Nearly every surface is covered in red dust. You walk around for 2 minutes and the soles of your feet are red. Wipe your face with a nice white tissue after a day in town and guess what?

So Basil has found me a nice hotel in the town, just for the first night. Our taxi makes it’s way through the streets as hundreds of boda boda motorbike taxis zip past us through the lines of traffic. The boda boda is the most dangerous form of transport in Uganda. A tiny motorbike, which costs a couple of hundred to buy, is driven at breakneck speeds through the city with anything up to three people on the back. Or a cupboard or armchair. I’ve even seen a photo of some guy carrying a cow on one. They drive up paths, the wrong way down roads, through junctions without looking, through the tiniest gaps between trucks, tippin and clattering off cars here and there, (wierdly enough they stop for red lights…) and all this while trying to keep their eyes open just enough to see while at the same time keeping them closed enough to keep the dust and smoke out. They really should use sunglasses or something. There is no right of way or rules of the road here. Sometimes the Police come out to direct traffic but for the most part it’s pretty chaotic. We pass a hotel called “Excellent Hotel”. That’s not my one though. Pity. Nearly every shop on the smaller streets is blashting out rap or reggaeton, but once we get onto the main Kampala Rd. it’s pretty decent. Still haven’t seen any white people/mzungus.

So we arrive at my hotel. Funnily enough it’s is painted the same colour as the dust found everywhere…. or is that actually a layer of dust and maybe it was originally painted white or something. I can’t tell. I say hello to the security guard with the shotgun as I walk in to the FOYER or whatever you call them. It’s actually a daycent hotel.

Right, €50 room booked, bags thrown in. It’s like 5pm. I tell Bashir I need to get a few things in the shop, mostly water. Can’t drink the tap water in this country unless tis boiled. So we saunter out of the hotel and walk down the street a bit. It’s not too bad, I’m getting stared at a bit, but no muggings or shootings like the papers would have you believe.

So I’m tipping away enjoying the sights and sounds but not the smoke and dust when Bashir calls me. I turn around and he’s sitting on a boda boda and he points at another one and tells me to hop on. Feckit I say, it’s now or never! Bashir shouts “Garden City” to my driver and we tear off like a rocket through the congested streets of Kampala. I’m hanging onto the driver for dear life and I look over at Bashir who’s just sitting there relaxed with his hands on his knees. I tried being cool and I put my hands on my knees like Bashir, but lasted about two seconds. I ended up holding onto the bar at the back which was like 50% cool, good enough. I want to blend in like the locals and I’m getting pretty close. Just need to work on my tan.

We approached a roundabout and I was like “Ah they have roundabouts here”… but the rules are a bit different. I’m still trying to figure it out but I think you just drive as fast as you can onto them and make sure not to indicate or look left or right.

So we arrive at Garden City about 5 minutes later, me white knuckled and full of adrenaline, Bashir cool as a cat. I give the driver 1,000Ugsh which is about 35cent.

Garden City seems to be where all the white expats go to shop. I am no longer the only Mzungu in town. It’s a nice place, it’s pretty much like any mall you’d find in a decent city. Bashir wants to introduce me to his old college friend Josef who works in the cinema upstairs, so we saunter up. We meet up with Josef and he turns out to be the soundest. He brings me up onto the roof so I can see the city and we talk about this that and the other. He was in art college with Bashir a few years ago and they shared a room. Josef is a bit of a party animal and he wants to know if I can get him any Mzungu ladies… I say I’ll see what I can do if he gets me some Ugandan ladies, and a free ticket into the cinema. We shake on it and he starts pointing to different ladies passing by and asks me “so what size ass do you like? This one? That one? How about that one over there?” He’s a good man. Not a great worker though. He’s supposed to be working in the cinema but he’s hanging around the shopping center with us, Warriors style.

So we say our goodbyes and I go shopping for some water with Bashir, then another boda boda ride back to the hotel. I say thanks to Bashir and he heads off, we arrange to meet up tomorrow so I can buy a phone and find some cheaper accommodation. The rest of the night was just spent chillaxing in the hotel room and drinking lots of water. Went to sleep at about 8pm.

Freak Nasty is defined as: Describing something vulgar or exceeding the norm of acceptable nasty content.

Example : “dude, did you see the wedgie on that fat chick”… Yeah that was Freak Nasty

Ok, well we have our own definition of Freak Nasty.

Bent Rods definition: Describing one nasty looking fish, usually obese, disgustingly big, and almost always sports one mean looking kype. One that prefers its meals large, and as many women as it can get.

With visions of Freak Nasty on our minds the BRM crew and I loaded the wagon headed North. We had three days and miles of water to cover. It was gonna be a blitzkrieg style trip, little sleep, lots of junk food, and the smell of rotten salmon.

$5.00 if you take one bite!

We spent three days fishing our asses off. We woke well before dawn to hit the water before the hoards, we explored new stretches of water, we tied on countless flies.  The fishing wasn’t easy, most of the fish had seen everything but the kitchen sink, and the unusually warm weather and blue bird skies took a toll on the fishing. Like most people we stocked a small flyshop in our packs, but as luck would have it, we were back at the vise concocting new patterns to doop those wary fish.

For those who haven’t fished Western NY, the land is flat, the corn, cabbage, apples, and roads are endless. There are countless tribs flowing into Lake Ontario, and some of the biggest baddest browns, steelhead, and salmon around. The area is best described as poor mans Patagonia, with a strong emphasis on poor mans, as the crowds will give you nightmares.

Most of the trip was a blur, I am not sure if it was the lack of sleep due to Murphy’s snoring, or the visions of my hands around Mitch’s throat for stealing the net and costing me the fish of the trip. It was a crazy three days, fish were lost, rods were broke, and after a slow, slow first day on the water we re- grouped and found Freak Nasty, not just one but many. I learned one thing, never let Mitch carry the net, he will stick the proverbial knife in your back every time. Mitch is now known as D-bag (Sorry Dave, you have been promoted).

Here is a collection of our Freak Nasty pictures from the trip.

Ryan

One of the little ones

Mr. Freak Nasty

Murph's Atlantic

Chrome

Is that a shark or a steelhead?

My thoughts on Mitch!

There were still a few around.

Butter.

I think its the beard, what do you think?

I think I crapped my pants! Seriously, I feel something wet!

LÅNGT INNAN begreppet swindie myntades åkte Easy på ett segertåg som gav dem skivkontrakt med engelska skivbolag, turnéer med band som Lush och Charlatans och strålande recensioner för debutalbumet »Magic Seed«. Easy var det första inhemska indiebandet som slog utanför Sveriges gränser. Och i sångaren Johan Holmlund hade de en frontgestalt som lyste med stor kraft.

Sommaren 1994 tog det roliga slut. Easy upplöstes när alla medlemmar kände att de inte kunde komma vidare. Johan fortsatte jobba med musikern Quant, som varit med och mixat mot slutet. De hyrde ett rum som de fyllde med datorer och syntar och började experimentera hejdlöst. Efter hand kom före detta Easy-medlemmarna Rikard och Anders med, samt tre nya förmågor: Fredrik, Per och Nicholas.

Fly är en logisk fortsättning på Easy. Huvudmålet är fortfarande den perfekta poplåten. Den brittiska poppen finns däri grunden, men experimenterandet med mer dansanta stilar, som de testade genom att låta Fortran 5 mixa om sista Easy-singeln »Listen to the Bells«, utvecklar de nu på ett par låtar som Johan gärna beskriver som »psykedeliska«. »Hey Little Dead Girl« har en ambient inramning, »Cosmic Mine« innehåller ett parti med österländska rytmer.

— Det roligaste vore att hitta en producent som kan arrangera låtar på klassiskt popvis; att spela in med Roy Wood, den mest bortglömde av sextiotalets pophjältar, och sedan låta någon nittiotalsfigur mixa materialet.

Johan Holmlund är nyfiken. Han ställer motfrågor. Vad tror du om Sex Pistols? Hur tror du Kent kommer att stå sig om tio år? Är Speaker bra? Men det är förstås hans egen nya musik som betyder mest.

— Det viktigaste är att göra bra låtar. Det blir inte sämre om vi inte lyckas kommersiellt. Televisions »Marquee Moon« är ju inte en sämre platta för att den inte har sålt miljoner. Samma sak med Loves »Forever Changes« eller Suicides två första album, de är ju lika fantastiska för det.