Peter Gabriel and Us

This afternoon I played La Serpiente and Destroyer some Peter Gabriel. All his best tunes aren’t on Spotify but the videos are on YouTube, so they got to see the utter wierdness/dreadful early 90s CGI that accompanied Steam, along with the no-less-inspired oddness of Sledgehammer. Both my daughters were transfixed by the sights that flickered across the screen. I’d like to think they were concentrating on Tony Levin’s baselines, but that’s probably a hope too far. 

It is as ever a pain that the rights of different music companies mean you can’t get all the music you want in just one place; much as it is for movies and videogames and books, when all I want to do is let my kids listen to twenty-five year old prog rock. What brave new world is this?

This morning we took the girls to a brunch at a friend’s condo. This was made more exciting by occurring at their swimming pool, where food is banned, providing a guilty frisson as I snacked on Domino’s Pizza and Coca-Cola. After that excitement, and after Peter Gabriel, all that was left was to take them to the local playgym and have them jump on the trampoline for two blessed hours. 

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