FiRES WERE SHOT – Fallen

fireswereshot

Shouty caps lock is, unfortunately, intentional.

I’ve listened to a lot of drone over the years, some would say especially when I’m talking (boom! boom!); I would say especially when most males talk, we do love to hear the sound of our own opinions even though they are almost all bollocks, yes, even yours. Especially yours.

Joking aside, actually I wasn’t joking. I’m famous for not having a sense of humour. Well, not famous as such, I mean, I’m clearly not a famous person, but one of my personality traits that is remarked upon often is my utter lack of a sense of humour. I often ask my son what one is because he has one, apparently. Like most communications between the generations, however, this often results in misunderstanding as I’m never entirely sure what he’s trying to tell me.

I had intended to talk, well, write, well, type about drone music but I got distracted because that’s what happens when you let flow happen. The same thing happens when I pick up a pen.

But if you think about it, drone is all about flow.

a quick advert

Bit like you used to see in music shops. Who knows, maybe you still do? Maybe I should go a-wandering.

SO, my old tub thumping comrade in the Itto got in touch with me recently suggesting that I do something with the One Dog Clapping band again because he wanted to be the drummer in such a thing.

To that end, if you play bass, guitar or keyboards and are around the Leicester area, do get in touch if you feel like you’d enjoy playing some of this stuff.

Alternatively, if you know people, or do more social media than I, do feel free to spread the word.

As you were!

 

Melanie De Biasio – Lilies

meldebiasio

So I was looking in the mirror, again
it’s a (bad) habit I have
something new was there today
my reflection seemed to be talking
yet I remain still
I leaned closer, to try to hear

It was an apology
by analogy
for a crime that couldn’t be committed
after all
what I’ve already given you cannot be stolen

So I replied to my reflection
who remained graciously still as I spoke
If I accept your apology
I imply that it is necessary
yet if I refuse it
I deny what you have offered

Dearest mirror
you are not cracked
it is the eyes that perceive you that I question
because they doubt what they see
yet what else could they see?

 

I don’t do activism but…

This

(which I’m doing because I don’t and won’t do twitter, but those of you who do who might agree that this is boneheadedness in an unusual capacity might want to tell the person who proposed it – assuming he’s even remotely willing to listen to a contrary opinion).

My actual views on copyright, even the very notion of intellectual property, would be very unfashionable in a materialistic paradigm such as the one I seem to be currently living in. Suffice it to say that I think it not only a legal nonsense but also completely redundant in the actual way the actual universe actually works, which will become immediately apparent to anyone who wants to spend a bit of actual time actually looking.

The Bug vs Earth – Concrete Desert

bugearthI have long loved both The Bug and Earth, obviously for very different reasons. The Bug’s London Zoo in particular was righteous in its wrath and groovy in its execution, whilst Earth’s catalogue (particularly since the comeback) is one often inducive to deep relaxation and meditation. You might not think they would make obvious collaborators, in other words.

Of course, if my finger ever came out of its shell-like and went and tried to find the pulse, then I might have been aware that this has been brewing a while since they did a single a little way back.

On this release, Kevin Martin seems to work to Dylan Carlsons’ strengths, letting the guitarist dictate the pace whilst he complements the tones with a sound that I find myself calling glacial paranoia. The grooves are there, but they’re dialled back. It’s about the atmosphere, which is dark and resonant. Ambient industrial grime, if you want a label.

Despite the fact that the times we live in are frankly a riot of chaos, I could imagine this as a surreal soundtrack to them.

 

 

Fela Kuti – Zombie

 

You know, I’d forgotten why I started this blog, which was actually to say nice stuff about fabulous music regardless of how long I’ve known about it. The pursuit of novelty is not one of the modern age’s better drugs.

So, Zombie, then. In truth I could post any Fela Kuti album, I just happen to be really digging on this one at the moment. Six tracks, all between 10 and 15 minutes long, with such a righteous groove. This is ‘Afrobeat’ at its best, funky and hypnotic. All players get to express themselves in the rhythm, the singers get to do the call and response thing which is a brilliant way of putting words to music. And the brass – the brass is brilliant.

Because I haven’t noticed an obvious way to embed the album, here’s some youtubes of some songs on it. First, the title track:

Mister Follow Follow:

Observation is No Crime:

My favourite on the album -Mistake:

Everything Scatter:

Monkey Banana:

Turns out I found the whole album on Youtube! If you’ve got an hour to spare, sit back and enjoy this fantastic music.

As I said earlier, any album by this man will bring you joy, should you happen to be a fan of long, funky, snaking grooves as I am.

Lobi Traore

a4065602372_16Having mentioned that I’m fond of the desert blues (which to my mind is a lazy way of saying ‘music made by people who live in the desert regions of North Africa using guitars’ but I am NOT going to call this ‘world music’), I figured its about time I posted some of this stuff. SO here’s one I bought as one of my recent payday treats.

Lobi Traore was from Mali and made several albums in the 90s and 00s before an untimely death. There is a description of his life here which is much better than I can do.

What I really love about the music from this area is that you can hear the space so vividly. This naturally leads me to make many musings on the idea of what the other music that I listen to says about the environment of the people making that music.¬†Of course, this may only be true of ‘honest‘ music.

Some time back – many years, in fact, because this is a story about TV and I don’t watch that by choice since many years ago – I watched a program about the blues. The point was made by one of the African people interviewed that the main difference between African music and the blues was that the blues had a sadness and a bitterness due to the maltreatment of the slaves which tumbled down into the music of subsequent generations. Although admittedly not an authority, my dad reckoned that was bollocks because he thought there was a lot of joy in the blues, on account of how much of it is basically songs about fucking, and things don’t get all that much more joyful than that. I don’t think this is an either/or question though; music has room for both, and more besides.

This music here sounds more on the joyful end, to me. The sheer pleasure of playing is evident in the recorded performance, which must have meant it was even more evident in the flesh, hence why the guy had such a reputation in his backyard.