More about that guy I sometimes go on about.

Two years ago I wrote that I would be afraid of running around screaming "Robyn Hitchcock is friggin' awesome!!," as there was every chance that I'd suddenly discover that he actually wasn't that good, and so would "find myself severely embaressed [sic] in a month or two." Apparently I couldn't spell two years ago.

Well two years later I'm still completely in the thrall of this artist, and continue to find new, excellent music by him (most recently devouring his early work with The Soft Boys). He is easily, if last.fm is to believed, which it may as well be, my most-listened-to artist since I learned of his existance. Existence. Apprently I still can't spell.

In 2009 I wrote "I wouldn't exactly recommend Robyn Hitchcock to anyone that I know. I like a lot of his music, but I can't straightforwardly see any reason that anyone-in-particular else should."

In 2010... I suppose I mostly still think this is true. He often seems to fit into this certain niche of music such that no one I know really enjoys that type of music as much as I do, namely the folky niche and the poppy niche. Still... Still... I suppose I still feel this urge to put some kind of recommendation out there, a general recommendation, a registration for posterity that this music is incredible, just so no one can turn to me in 2015 and ask "Why did you not warn me earlier, why did you deprive me of this for the last five years?"

Of course, then there's the problem of what to recommend. His output is pretty diverse in style and (sometimes) quality, though usually on the spectrum between poppy and folky, and usually on the spectrum between good and superb. For someone who suspects they might prefer his folkier side, you can't go past Spooked. For Hitchcock in more of a (restrained) Beatleseque Pop mode, Jewels For Sophia may impress. For an incredible, more punky, or perhaps rather post-punky sound, the Soft Boys' Underwater Moonlight approaches perfection. But I suppose I'm most inclined to recommend the first album of his that I heard, the strange, genre-shifting psychedlic masterpiece, I Often Dream Of Trains. It certainly hooked me.

So yeah, in conclusion I'd say to most of my readers: If you trust I have a good sense of your taste of music, you probably won't be as into Robyn Hitchcock as I am. But just in case I'm underestimating you, it might be worth giving him a listen. Just because I happen to be listening to it at the moment, here's him in an unrepresentatively Rocky moment:

Minor joys

One thing that I really thought I'd never get any pleasure from is casual interactions with strangers. Being in Canberra a fair amount a couple of years ago, after living in a city all my life, I remember getting totally freaked out when random people passing in the street, or in parks, would say crazy things like "Good morning" and "Hello." Naturally, I was all like "WHAT'S GOING ON WHO ARE YOU ARRRGH." I'm still pretty sure that's the right response.

Still, since I moved to a more out-of-town area of this already tiny town of St. Andrews, it's been happening to me all over again, on my daily walk to town. But the scary part is that I've started doing it myself. Or, at least, rather, I've started responding to the greetings in kind. Maybe (maybe) even started preemptively greeting the people I recognise as having greeted me in the past. But what I find really weird is that I get some kind of pleasure from this. Like, afterwards, my mood increases. I feel slightly happier for a few minutes. My affective state improves. And to a pretty severe degree too, though it doesn't last very long. I'm not really sure where this joy comes from. Maybe it's just some kind of "Hey, you managed to navigate that social interaction with aplomb!" feeling, or rather a "That's not something you do usually, well done!" thing. Maybe it will wear off.

Similarly, today I actually sustained a conversation with the person behind the counter at the supermarket. Moments before it happened, I would've thought this was pretty much something I would never do, let alone enjoy. I actually disliked it when people tried to talk to me when I worked in a supermarket, but in this case I did not intiate the conversation, so I'm pretty sure I didn't make an already horrible job that much worse today. Anyway, yeah, again, this gave me a pretty substantial boost to my mood, for a good dozen minutes. WHAT'S WRONG WITH MEEEEE!?!?

In unrelated news, here's a song I like too much by a musician who is too excellent for words:

Events, happenings, and transpirations.

I have become a PhfD student. I've finally embarked on this grand project of defending a hedonistic theory of well-being... Or perhaps I should rather say a Mental State view. That is, for those who may not know, I am concerned with arguing that what makes a life good for the individual leading that life can be cashed out purely in terms of the quality of that individual's experiences (that is, emotions, moods, feelings, sensations... Those kinds of things.) It's not a popular view, though it once was, and it's been getting quite a few defenders recently. Or maybe it just seems that way because, you know, getting into the literature inevitably leads you to notice people defending a view and then you can be all like "Oh wow, look at all these people defending this view."

I've been unusually busy so far in the semester, mostly writing up Some Stuff about Nozick's Experience Machine. These past two weeks I've been more generally trying to have some Interesting Thoughts on the relationship between well-being and desire, and more or less failing. I might try tomorrow to have some uninteresting thoughts instead.

In other newses, I've moved in to a lovely new place of residence, with a lovely new housemate. I've met a lovely bunch of M. Litts, those who are doing the lovely course I did last year. I went on a lovely reading party to the lovely village of Strontian, after which the lovely element Strontium is named. It's been getting lovely and cold here, but I'll be getting some lovely Australian Summer Action around January. Which is lovely.

Well, now you're up to date with a bunch of facts. And now I should probably be getting some sleep. Fare thee well, every one of you, whoever you may be. Until next time!