Who Knows Where The Time Goes?

Who Knows Where The Time Goes??

I’m 27 and sometimes I feel like I’ve blinked and missed the last decade. Then I think back at everything I’ve done over the past 10 years and realise that yes, I know where the time goes.

It has gone on countless records, numerous gigs, and endless hours of playing guitar with the amp up at “11”.

Four years ago I was in a band. That band was called The Winters. They are still around and still play their brand of psychedelic folk rock. This band had a website. Within that website there was a message board. On that board was a thread called “Tom’s playlist” or something very similar. In which I chronicled my current listening habits.

My listening habits then aren’t dissimilar to what they are now. Except that I think I used to go through and awful lot of records back then (10 or more a day sometimes).

These days I usually listen to 3 or 4 records a day.

I sit at my desk, or drive my car, or wake up in the morning and each action is undertaken to my own particular soundtrack.

Music is a window to memories and sometimes I hear “You Won’t See Me” off revolver and I’m in my first band, in the garage, trying to sing and play at the same time. I failed miserably but I remember the feeling.

I am a voracious listener and I cover a range of genres – though most usually end with the word “Rock”.

I liked being able to chronicle my soundtrack – oftentimes the posts reflected my mood, my thoughts, my general state of mind.

Over consecutive posts I could see how my tastes had developed and where they sprung from. I could retrace my discoveries of Gene Clark, my immersion in Neil Young and Dylan, and my flights of Kinks flirtation.

It is a shame that I didn’t recover all those posts. I cannot reconstruct them either.

I stopped writing in the thread sometime in 2003 so it missed the development of some now well travelled paths.

With this in mind I’m setting myself up on a course with this blog: To create a stream of discovery and document my continued soundtrack.

Today I’ve had a very Fairport Convention day. It began with the endless humming of “Who Knows Where The Time Goes?” and continues with endless humming of “Who Knows Where The Time Goes?” Needless to say I’m finding the guitar playing of Richard Thompson and the voice of Sandy Denny to be the perfect escapist fantasy for sitting in an office in Sydney.

I got into Fairport at the same time I got into The Pentangle, though strangely enough The Pentangle connected with me allot quicker. If you haven’t heard either you really should check them both out – British Folk Rock from the late 60s at its finest – and the two bands collectively contain three of the best British guitarists in Bert Jansch, John Renboun and Richard Thompson.

Though this wasn’t where my day truly began. I was in the car this morning on my way into work listening to “Doc at the Radar Station” by Captain Beefheart and his Magic Band. The blues and jump start rhythms providing perfect accompaniment to the anger and jump start rhythms of Sydney’s grid lock.

By the time anyone reads this though I will be gone from my desk and gone from my screen and hopefully at home watching a western. The western is a lost art really – not many directors left who have the vision to create epic and expanding slow burn works which are really essays on freedoms.

I am an avid movie watcher will probably include my movie thoughts on this blog as I go through as well. I have a pile of movies next to the TV which I will be making my way through over the coming weeks.

So there it is the first thoughts of for the fave raves of a stone.

Tom Stone