This piece does one thing and one thing only.
For 20 minutes.
This piece does one thing and one thing only.
For 20 minutes.
This album title may make you expect something other than you will get. One more reason to love it.
See, this album has been a part of my life for well over a decade, now. I posted it not long after starting Soundbergs using a Youtube link. However, the great man has now added it to his bandcamp, remastered.
Simply put, this is among my very favourite albums ever. Despite the length of time it’s been in my collection, it still gets played regularly. The opener in particular has a strong claim to ‘favourite peice of music, ever’ (although I don’t believe in absolute favourites and would never dream of compiling some kind of all time top ten or any other arbitrary number).
This music is trance in its purest form, and absolutely ecstatic at that.
The funny thing about working from home is that when you have a ‘holiday’ and then return to work, it feels… weird. Still, it was some kind of normal in a way – I had 473 emails awaiting. Most were on librarian lists debating various librarian things, which I’ll have you know is not at all uninteresting. I dare you to disbelieve me.
Well, maybe they’re a bit uninteresting.
Still, there were a significant amount require that I actually do stuff, usually involving spreadsheets. Thank the lord or whoever it is you usually thank for the always reliable Sula Bassana, he of Electric Moon, and his almost neverending plethora of mighty music adding to his/their bandcamp.
I’m sure its just as good without editing spreadsheets. (I hope he uses that as a quote…)
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.
The positives of working from home. Once I got over the initial connecting to my institution’s systems, I started cranking out some tunes. Much better to listen to music on semi-decent speakers whilst you work than headphones; they cramp my ears after a while. Also, No worries about nearby colleagues telling me to turn that racket down.
This is an electronic racket, albeit not hard work for the uninitiated. Reminds me of certain 90s dance peeps I sometimes still listen to – not exactly unadjacent to Banco de Gaia, for example, though contemporary stuff like Octo Octa also springs to mind.
It’s only an EP, so my one criticism is that it ain’t long enough. I could quite easily have an album of this.
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.
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.
I don’t remember how I came across this one but it was on one of my tabs this morning when I turned the PC on so I listened to it. And now I’m posting it.
I always have my browsers open on the tabs they were closed on exactly so I can leave stuff open that I intend to come back to. This does have the downside of meaning that some things that can be on there weeks before I get round to it. On this PC, most of the tabs are actually Youtube videos that the kids last watched, or Roblox games that the kids last played. Tuesday morning before my later than normal start is pretty much the only time I get to catch up, barring the occasional Sunday afternoon.
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.
Clarkson sold his soul
and was rewarded with a fast car
gave him such a thrill
that he thought that’s all there was
part of the deal he made
was in treating men with wither
if they happened to point out
that he’d been taken for a ride
but eventually he arrived at the end
of his sordid little pleasuredome
he had to put in concepts
all the scorn he’d sold in words
and he found that they were empty
he found that they were empty
albeit with invective
but it isn’t quite the same
where has your reward gone?
it’s stuck behind in this realm
and you could have taken riches
if you knew just what they were
life is not a lesson
it’s a song
and if you get the meaning wrong
you cannot hear the music
its underneath the engines
but above the darker ground
it could be in the air
try listening to the air
ears are more than just the holes in the side of your head
you need to know your song
its your passport to moving on