Dead Sea Apes – Night Lands

deadseaapes

Dead Sea Apes and The Myrrors? (Well, Nik Rayne from The Myrrors). Get listening!

You’ll be horrified to know that I’m going to riff on the notion of subjectivity in the forthcoming words, both future and what is to come.

The reason for that is because subjectivity is brilliant, innit? After all, I thought of an answer to why it is that it isn’t just me that thinks time is speeding up. Everyone I speak to anywhere ever always agrees with me, isn’t time just whizzing by these days? I mean, the other day, I woke up, brushed my teeth, had a cup of coffee, played my guitar for a bit, had another cup of coffee, read a bit of the superb Latro in the Mist by the incomparable Gene Wolfe, had another cup of coffee, nipped to the shops to get lunch stuff for me and the kids, did lunch, washed up, did some drawing/doodling in preparation of my next album Influx Arena, did dinner, drunk tea, washed up, played guitar, programmed some drums, got my daughter to bed, played Civ for a bit, and before I knew it, it was time for bed! Just like that! Why, I mean, I barely even had time to blink!

Anyway, here’s the reason why everyone else agrees with me on this – you are all figments of my imagination. Therefore, if I think time is speeding up, then you’ll all think the same because why wouldn’t you?

Of course, you could all, and with just as much legitimacy, make the same claim towards me. And the annoying thing is, we’d all be equally right.

Solar Corona – Saint​-​Jean​-​de​-​Luz

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That Julius Gabriel fella just keeps on delivering, no?

There aren’t many artists that predominantly produce instrumental music who nevertheless keep me interested. It’s a very difficult approach to music to do consistently well (albeit quite easy to adopt a phone-it-in approach). Whatever well he’s tapped, it is one deep well. I was very regularly feeling that ecstatic feeling I get when I listen to music that is so perfectly put together that it could be thought of as a self contained universe in its own right, albeit – and not actually paradoxically – also open-ended. Like life.

As is always the case when I sit down to do a post, my words dry up and lose any sparkle that I might have thought they had when they raced around my head. It’s not all bad, though. Just press play and enter the trance enfolded into the music – all the sparkle you’ll need is there. And we all need sparkle in these times.

 

 

Motion Sickness of Time Travel – Subterranean

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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.

Negra Branca @ Woodland Gathering 2018

I listened to this via The Quietus not long after it happened; only posting now because I’m posting it now.

The reason I listened to her is because she also plays with Gnod. This is not much like Gnod, albeit exactly what are Gnod like? They are like many things.

This put me in a trance, even though I was at work (that’s how I cope). I’ve just deleted several sentences where I tried to describe it. This is why I’ve given up trying to describe music using words.

 

 

Matchess – Sacracorpa

sacracorpa

So God plugged the universe in. “Let there,” he began, “be sound.”
And he turned us on.

The splitting of a hair almost always renders it useless

Do the asymmetrical boogie

I’m not working for the man ever again
He makes me sick
Then blames me for breathing the air he polluted!
And as he counts his money that he’ll never spend
I ain’t working for the man ever again

The gravity of our shared destiny is what keeps us in orbit about each other

Mary had a little mammalian cell bioreactor

The children of the thousand eyes
Came back from subject island
They had asbestos hair
And nothing made them frightened

The chief of chalice is currently visually ill

A tone of my own

Jjuujjuu – Zionic Mud

jjuujjuu

Imagine a jigsaw, a round, huge, perhaps even infinite, where all the pieces are unique, and make for a beautiful whole when observed from without, as is quite possible for anyone with the requisite spiritual training. So, then, let us immediately zoom in on a small piece roughly to the left of the hypothetical centre, a bit above and less to the top, capable of movement. It’s sad. It saw something about one of the other pieces over on the right, and it wants to be like the piece on the right, but the piece on the right is different, different shape for a start. So our piece, with a tremendous effort of will, gradually alters his shape, trying to be the same shape as his idol. Unfortunately, he can’t quite get to the right shape, though he keeps trying, because he thinks he just needs to persevere because some idiot wrote that if you persevere, you will get everything you want. The problem was, the effort at remaining in the wrong shape, and the continuous striving to perfect this other shape was an enormous strain, emotionally, and eventually, physically, which took its toll not just on our little piece, but on those around it too, and eventually, on the whole picture. Because those around it suddenly found that they weren’t fitting as comfortably as before, and so they thought there was something missing in what they had begun to think of as themselves. This led to a growing communal sense of dissatisfaction, the solutions to which seemed to be in following the first of the shapeshifters, who, due to a bizarre irony, was now seen as something of a pioneer and so they started trying to imitate him, and then others came up with what seemed like an original take, but was in fact their limitations making it impossible to become an exact copy, so they therefore seemed original enough for others to try and copy, all failing, of course. So the continuing result is a jigsaw of pieces where very few fit – those who have kept their original shape are now regarded as psychologically deficient in some way.