16th May 2011

Last night I stumbled upon a trailer for the 2011 remake of FRIGHT NIGHT ... and, as it was to be expected, this flick promises to be a completely retarded piece of shit ... - 2 1/2 minutes of my existence wasted. Children of the 80s with a morbid fascination for braindeath may have a look at this and weep ...

The only good thing about it was, that it made me want to watch the original version again, which I hadn't seen for ages.

Though far from being a masterpiece, it is one of those beautiful, GAY horror classics. If you don't know what I am talking about, read

There is this wonderful dark alley scene, in which Ed crosses over ... and I remembered, when I first watched this film ... so many, many moons ago ... that I thought: 'If I was in his situation, I would take that hand as well.' -- Funny enough, this is exactly what eventually happened to me (in a manner of speaking). But that's a different story ...

After this trip down memory-lane, I was kind of in a reflective mood ... and since I had discovered earlier in the evening, that I had really destroyed all my old (SOPOR) music-files a few years back, I sat down and listened to LA CHAMBRE D'ECHO, just to see what it had to tell me. But being still attuned to the vibration (and the sound) of the 'triptychon', the unexpected intensity of this album came as a bit of a shock to me. In order to get a better picture of where my current road is leading to, I put on LES FLEURS DU MAL after that, and my first thought was: "My goodness, one really has to

be completely deaf not to hear the overwhelming sadness of this.". In fact, I almost felt like being suffocated when listening to it, as if I was trapped in a stuffy room somewhere underground ...

To complete this journey, I went on and visited the current album HAVE YOU SEEN THIS GHOST?, which, in comparison, now even feels like a ghost to me (in a good way). Here the sound is transparent ...and the poetry (without the heavy burden of symbolism) is like a soft whisper, an echo from the past ... yes, like the ghost of an old friend.