Brenda’s Unfortunate Record #18


I realise now how unproductive yesterday was. It kinda felt like I was doing things, at no time was I at a lack, or aimless – I put some new pictures up in the studio, put together today’s radio show, I noodled on a remix I’ve been working on, answered lots of emails & had a long chat with my publishers – but I still had a hunch I wasn’t quite getting on with shit as well as I could be. Now it’s today, time’s tight and suddenly I’m in a bit of a panic as to how I’m gonna get everything done. 

I don’t think I’m alone in the struggle with time-management. Especially when one’s self-employed, prioritising can get very tricky. And I am the queen of distraction. It’s not like I don’t do things. It’s rare to find me vegging out in front of telly but I wrestle to focus. I’ll get drawn away by random thoughts, and find I’ve suddenly lost 20 minutes trying to locate that 1950’s book about colour. Cause it’s totally vanished!? Too strange. So has Cookie’s play for that matter. I mean we do have a lot of pulp in this house but I can’t imagine it leaving the studio … unless I put it in the filing cabinet? Nope. Not there either. 

And baff, there goes another 10 minutes. Just like that.

Outside is still. It’s been like this for a while now. The smog’s closed in and I can feel how poor the air quality is. My throat’s all clogged up and I had a hard time running the other day. It’s rare to have so little wind in London. Feels like we really are in the doldrums, an idea I ponder … marvelling in the vividness of metaphor. We’ve pulled down the sails, resigned to drift aimlessly through unchartered waters.

Ahhhhhhhhhhh ……

If I extend this vision to what’s really happening in Westminster & across the duckpond, it doesn’t quite hold up. Everyone can see the wheels as they’re set in motion, this terrifying rev of change. It’s just not yet reflected in my first floor window view . But it will be. All in due course, babes. Just look at the mad, record-breaking FTSE 100. Trillions of speculative, imaginary money being pumped into the silk-lined pockets of those willing to play the game. And what a weird one it is, like what a fucking world we live in. I mean really. 

I look at the concrete road below – we manipulate matter but we’re just a tiny speck, an insignificant glitch in this infinite universe….  

This is some real digression.

30 more minutes down the drain. 

Maybe I should make a list? There’s one in my head. There’s actually one on my wall too, but I spend more time with my markers getting the colour scheme right than I do actually following it. Right. I know what I need to do. Harry’s coming round tomorrow to rehearse. I’m playing a gig in just a little over a week’s time and need to prepare my live. I haven’t really started yet. The radio’s in 50 minutes. I can probably get everything set up before I go & spend the afternoon working. People aren’t coming round til 730pm so I have til 5pm at least before I need to start thinking about dinner. Oh and don’t forget to call X! Super important … squeeze that in before you get sucked into an Ableton session. 

And with that …

Click, click … she’s off!!!


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