I Just Read About That…

SOUNDTRACK: CIBO MATTO-“Sugar Water” (1996).

We have been rewatching Buffy the Vampire Slayer.  In episode one of season two the (then) hip band Cibo Matto appeared, playing “live” at the Bronze.  It was the first time they had a “real” band on the show.  In season one there was an occasional live band, Sprung Monkey (they were in the first episode pretty prominently) but Cibo Matto were the first “national” band–with a hit single or two–to be on the show (and look, there’s Sean Lennon in a dress!).  The song works pretty well here for the atmospherics and moodiness.

I really liked Cibo Matto when they came out.  Sure, they were kind of a novelty, (two Japanese singers with an Italian band name who sung a bunch about food) but then the late 90s were all about novelty.  Of course, even within the realm of the alt rock 90s, a song called “Know Your Chicken” was pretty unusual (noisy and weird) .  “Sugar Water” on the other hand, is a moody piece.  It’s slow with delicate keyboards and a (very mildly) spooky verse.  But the overall feel is a kind of “space age” one for notes and tones.  It also has a kind of Stereolab-vibe (especially in the la las).   It’s a catchy song and I enjoyed hearing it again after all thee years.

Not to mention the video is suitably curious.

[READ: April 8, 2011] “Goo Book”

This is a strangely sentimental story for one that starts out with the sentence: “It was fucking hot.”  In fact, the story is strangely sentimental for a story about a gangster’s apprentice (and one which has so much cursing!).

The protagonist is a young man who is a petty thief.  Mostly he steals from tourists (I was pleased that when he took he thought was a wallet but which turned out to be a notebook, he then gave the book to a kid to make sure the tourist got it back–stealing money is one thing but returning the notebook showed a decency that I approved of).

But he also worked for Mishazzo as his driver. (And I have to admit that perhaps the one flaw of the story is that I couldn’t follow the timeline at all).  Mishazzo is a gentleman who owns a lot of businesses.  And the driver was told explicitly that he didn’t know anything.  At all.  He just drove.  And the driver was fine with that.  He asked no questions.  And the driving was fine–usually to one of Mishazzo’s coffee shops for an undetermined  length of time.  So he started carrying a bottle with him in case he had to pee (he wasn’t allowed to leave the car), and started smoking like a fiend.  But the money was good, and he honestly didn’t know what Mishazzo was up to (he assumed it wasn’t good, but he also assumed it wasn’t that bad either).

Then he gets caught by the cops.  Not for driving but for pickpocketing.  And the cops know about Mishazzo, too.  So they ask him to tell them all of the places where he drives them.  The rest of the story is taken up with the driver talking to a cop who may or may not be hitting on him at the same time.

The sentimental part of the story come from the titular Book.  The book is a notebook that he and his girlfriend use to write sweet nothings to each other.  They can’t say these things aloud to each other, but the book quickly fills up with tender thoughts.  Conversely, as they speak more sweetly to each other, their sex life gets rougher and rougher–bondage and spanking take over.  And all of this makes their relationship stronger.

So when he believes that Mishazzo and his men are on to him about the police, he tries to convince her to drop everything and leave (even though he’s never told her what he does).

This was a pretty gripping story.  I enjoyed the style and the British gangland storyline.  I was a little bummed that it went in the direction it did (with him trying to run away) because it left so much up in the air.  I guess I would have liked to read more of the story.  The characters were well constructed and fascinating–with enough secrets to keep me intrigued and guessing the whole time.  Although the conceit of imagined fear is a powerful one.