Marlene Ribeiro ~ Negra Branca – N.B. + Touched

This was in my Bandcamp wishlist for years, literally. I finally bought it a couple of months back after playing it again, and it has done seriously hard labour on my speakers since then.

I want to type the phrase ‘Marlene used to be in Gnod’ because I haven’t seen her listed on their more recent stuff. BUT – you listen to Faca do Inberno on this here album, and then you listen to Faca de Fogo from Gnod’s recent collaboration with João Pais Filipe and you tell me that the one isn’t a proto-type for the other. Go on. Can’t do it, can you? So maybe she’s still in Gnod.

Organit – Komplex²

I’ve done Organit before. But I like this as well.

I’m doing hypnotic electro stuff much more these days.

 

Muslimgauze (untitled)

You may find this hard to believe, but once upon a time, there was a period we inhabitants called ‘the nineties.’ They were times, really they were. There was a lot of music made in these times, and life has later taught me that I didn’t get to hear it all then, either, so today is nothing new to me.

I didn’t get to hear Muslimgauze back in the day; never even heard of them. Having said that, I think I’d have been down with this as it would not have been out of place on something like the Crooklyn Dub Consortium compilations, which were woozy as all get go, just like this is.

Because these are also times, this was re-released last year by a label in Russia, because of course it was.

Haram Tapes – Scorpions & Fountains

This is one of those that I discovered by trying out something that one of the fans I follow on Bandcamp had bought. I have zero idea why I clicked on this one in particular, but am very glad I did.

Some of the titles are fabulous, which is why it gets to be a political album despite being largely instrumental, like the awesome Welsh drummers some posts back. But great titles are only pithy phrases unless they’re backed by something excellent to be a title to, and these things are.

Not a guitar in sight, though, for those of you who prefer my more guitar oriented posts.

Tentakel – TwoFace

Although I listen to a resonable amount of electronic music, I’m even worse at catagorising that, so forgive the tags if they don’t seem complete or appropriate.

This may be the first album I’ve linked to on Bandcamp that has no supporters. It’s high on my list, though, for that time in the future when I may start having disposable income again, a time slightly more likely than The Rapture / The Singularity (but I repeat myself).

Motion Sickness of Time Travel – Subterranean

This isn’t much like my normal fare, but know this: I have man-flu and an abcess, and don’t intend to take painkillers until bedtime so that i can sleep. Having said that, I’ve just had a bit of a doze listening to this. It is very relaxing, but not in a crappy New Agey way.

I strongly suspect that it will also be very relaxing if the listener is not ill in any way, and thus recommend this to you for those moments when you need chill.

Organit – Komplex

Music doesn’t need words, except for the words contained in the music (if any). Music doesn’t need a reason, except for the reason contained in the music, or the music contained in the reason.

I’ve not made sense yet, and I’m not likely to any time soon. But I do like to revel in the unexpectedly welcoming sonic waystations I find in my mental travels, or travails, insert as appropriate. Is insertion ever appropriate? I really hope so, and soon, but that’s a different story.

You mean this is a story? Why didn’t you say?

 

Timothy J. Fairplay -Mindfighter EP

On a bridge on a plain senorita sing again as the angels learn to fly they’re oblivious, delirious [] once upon a time certain words became a rhyme and although the meaning changed they’re oblivious, delirious [] the air is an idea and contains a gateway here and there are stories that I tell but they’re oblivious, delirious [] I’m electric don’t you know I’m magnetic full of flow and I try t tell the world but they’re oblivious, delirious [] scratching at the door even though you came before weren’t you desperate to get out? But you’re oblivious delirious [] there’s no welcome back there’s no room within this shack they’d rather you weren’t here but they’re oblivious delirious [] and it all still looks the same because you think a plain’s a plain you should see it underneath but you’re oblivious
delirious

There’s not a glimmer of fire in the eyes
not an ember to smoulder
but something’s going tick tock
and it’s loud enough to move
as a casual wave
and I am at your mercy

I burnt from my mistakes

Fontän – Fontän

The surgeon burst, just as he was getting to the good bit. Damn, he thought, damn, what a waste of a good bit. So he set about finding the bits and sewing them back together, but this was a time ensuing process, so once he was re-established, he found that he was no longer a surgeon as he knew it, and the task facing him now was almost entirely structural, something alien to a worker of shambola which he now knew he was to be. Give me a needle and dread, he asked, give me the needle, but the needle was possessed, it was moving, whirring, spinwatting and slabbing. Nowhere was this more apparent than on the structure, something made for itself, conceived for itself, executed for political reasons. And people say I’m a bit odd. Well, wouldn’t you be? But the surgeon, why do we always forget the surgeon? I can remove that lump, he said, or at least, I could, back when I knew what it was. No need, these things are brought on by anger, don’t you know, anger and frustration, and the removal of these ills often effects a cure, but you need to journey and to see, it’s a very strange experience, you often are not sure whether or not you had it, though the memory is vivid enough. I can dig that, replied the surgeon, I must admit this is all a bit weird for me, have you ever pieced yourself back together using only a memory of a subjective prior being? Yes. Yes. Yes. Every fucking day. Wakefulness is what gives me purpose, but, by god, it comes at a price, and I’m not sure what’s left in the bank. I have to save some for the son, though I, the father, have a somewhat privilege, and I get to use it, more than I did, especially now I’m beginning to know where to find more of it. The thing is sustainability. Yes, I know it’s a trendy buzzword, and for that I apologise, I dislike having to use words too, but have you ever tried communicating concepts without their context? Context is, and I think I may have said this before, everything. Everything is context. So, do I get better, asked the surgeon. Yes. But only if you want to. Find your purpose and you will automatically. Ignore your purpose and it becomes harder.

Free the computer within!

Idiomatic. My style is idiomatic. That does NOT mean I’m automatically an idiot. Probably.