Playing tracks by
Grandaddy, /JASON LYTLE, Twilight Hotel, The Pains Of Being Pure At Heart, Wolf Parade and more.
The Treecast is so named because we purchased and decorated our Christmas tree this afternoon. It is an incoherent mess of all sorts of shite, stupid garish baubles, a weird peacock thing and some foolish attempts at being tasteful which have been utterly overwhelmed by the utter cack which surrounds them.
My parents always did seriously tasteful trees actually, so I would imagine they will be downright ashamed of the half-arsed mess we have managed to create. Actually, my dad is the world's biggest Grinch, so he won't give a shit, but my mum might be silently disappointed.
Nevertheless it now feels like Christmas has properly started. We have orded a keg of beer for our Christmas party (our own one, not the label one) and for the New Year's piss up as well. We'll have Jonnie Common, The Japanese War Effort and Neil fae Meursault playing a house gig that evening, and there will, it now appears, be shitloads of very tasty beer too. Why the fuck would anyone bother with town?