Have just been to see Martha Wainwright at the Northcote Social Club. Her voice is exceptional isn’t it? It’s kinda like a husky-baby-WOMAN voice, with this glorious way of catching in her throat. She does a nice line in French chanteuse-ing, too. Excellent pronunciation. I don’t actually have her album yet, but I will get it, now. I have had my eye on one in HMV for some time now, on which someone has helpfully planted a big round sticker that reads, “ANGSTY!”. I chuckle at that every time I pass it, so I think I might have to make it mine.

I’m kind of on a female kick at the moment, music wise. For instance, I am going to see Joanna Newsom in October, which will be AMAZING, I am betting. And I have recently decided to make some music compilation CDs for my culture-deprived sister in Darwin. I have entitled this series, “Culture For Rachel”, and the aim of it is to be, basically, an all-encompassing, everything-all-decent-people-need-to-know-and-love-right-now-and-forever-and-on-and-on compilation series. Yes, I have set myself a rather huge task. And thus far, I have only made it to Volume Two. Because I am so besotted with myself for making Volume One that I can’t bring myself to listen to anything else. I somehow managed to make Volume Two before swearing off all music except for that contained in Volume One (Volume Two is a collection of new Australian music, by the way, and I like it very much, but it is nothing compared to Volume One). Because Volume One is, if I may say, sublime. And I can’t stop listening to it. But I must move on. RACHEL NEEDS CULTURE! But really. At the moment I can’t get over myself in feeling that Volume One is enough. That it is, in fact, the be all and end all. It isn’t, of course. It’s quite obviously a compilation that can’t see past current obsessions with gentle girly cool things. But it’s just so pretty. Look at it. This is Culture For Rachel - Volume One:

Haiti The Arcade Fire
Amazon M.I.A.
Immature Björk
Sleepy Pea Minimum Chips
Sukkafish The Grates
No Aloha The Breeders
Lovetones The Duke Spirit
Gale Blow The Fiery Furnaces
Peach, Plum, Pear Joanna Newsom
Tell You Now Le Tigre
Silver The Pixies
Cannonball The Breeders
Sat In Your Lap Kate Bush
Huddle Formation The Go! Team
Trampoline The Grates
Recovery New Buffalo
5 Years Björk
Running Up That Hill Kate Bush
Hello To The Floor The Duke Spirit
Do You Love Me Now? The Breeders
Two Fat Feet The Fiery Furnaces
The Book Of Right-On Joanna Newsom

Do not tell me it is terrible. It is lovely. I love it. But yes. There is more music in the world than that. AND I MUST BRING IT TO MY SISTER, in 22-song portions.

Other things I have been doing:

I saw Turtles Can Fly on Monday. It was good. The kids are really cool. But then, it is sad. And, well, horrifying. I do so love gumboots on toddlers. But now I fear that preference has taken on a darker association in my mind.

I saw Skeleton Key on Tuesday. That’s right. I will go to any lengths for Sarsgaard hotness. I will even pay five whole dollars for it. The film was, well, it was okay. But I will say this for it: when you figure out the thing that’s happening, which you will, it does add a different kind of ghastliness to an earlier ghastly lynching scene. So that’s something.

Anyway, and maybe this is only of interest to ABC geeks but, aren’t you just LOVING the new post-Sam Ryan Silent Witness? I really really am. It is so GREAT! I have actually been watching my tape of recent episodes repeatedly. And it’s not just the increase in Harry-ness that’s making me go spastic, although, come ON. That character is somehow very very hot. No, I just think the show is better all around, really. Especially without the annoying diversions into boring middle-aged love. There’s lots more team-ness and smarts and stuff. I love it. It is becoming a highlight in my week.

Another highlight in my week has been around for quite some time now, but I’ve really been noticing how much I enjoy it. See, on a Saturday, I might be getting ready for something or what have you, basically, just doing something in the house away from the TV. And then it hits 6.30 and well, there’s joy. I don’t know if this is sick or anything, but the sound of my brother choking on his throat while watching Australia’s Funniest Home Videos is something that splits my face right open, and listening to it is becoming almost a weekly ritual involving my whole family. We seriously pause whatever we are doing during that hour to listen from afar to him laugh and choke and laugh and choke. My parents have even learnt now to nod with knowing grins and say “MONTAGE” when the fits from the front room reach an uncontrollable state. I also love it when he’s in the midst of crazy laughter, but then the next instant it’s like there was no humour in the world at all. And you hear him mutter in disgust, “Set. Up.” As if to say, ‘why do they continue to let this crap through? That guy was clearly only riding across that plank so that he’d fall in the mud. HONESTLY! HOW DARE YOU spoil this otherwise quality programming and all the hard work of the writers and sound-effects team? The nerve!’ Yes, he hates set-ups. They make him very angry. He does, however, like it when the writers, [and we do call them that in our house. We respect them greatly] manage to make something out of nothing. Like, if you deconstructed the hilarious moment, you’d find that the clip was nothing at all, but they’d managed to come up with something absurd enough to make it gold. If you hear my brother go, “GENIUS”, that’s how you know they’ve done that. So anyways, I find all of this quite fucking hilarious and beautiful. He comes out when the show is over and tries to explain, still shaking, what he’s seen. “No. You don’t understand. There was a cat montage. CATS, Elanor. They’re fucking CRAZY. And then, and THEN… OLD LADIES! Oh god, you really should have seen it.” He doesn’t seem to have noticed that, while we used to watch it with him, we now seem to find ourselves elsewhere when that show is on, because watching the show is not the thing anymore. Hearing him watch the show is the thing.