(the) Dead Sea Flowers – Cult of Sargasso

sargasso

Imagine, right, that the human race gets wiped out in such a way as to leave behind all of our works – I dunno, a virus, really virulent, incredibly fast acting. We didn’t stand a chance. And then, as luck would have, we actually are visited by beings from another world. They land, they take a look around, they see signs of life (you know, frogs, trees, foxes, free-market cheerleaders) but no signs of yer actual intelligence. And yet, puzzlingly, there’s all these artefacts. Football stadiums, for example: what would they make of them? Factories, some of them including forklift trucks. Some of those sexy sensual temples in southern India (that’s a religion I don’t mind signing up to (typical bloke response)). Postcards. CD’s. toy aeroplanes. Real aeroplanes. Helicopters. ‘mobile phone antennae.’ Wires. Offices. Essex. Ironing boards. Et so on.

Would they recognise these as artefacts of an ancient but extinct civilisation?

I suppose it depends on their own ascent up the evolutionary ladder. It’s bound to affect their perception of what constitutes intelligence. Bit like how the Europeans were when they encountered other countries with different coloured people who did different things differently. ‘You must be savages!’ we screamed, and promptly tried to ruin them and their descendents.

In other words, how enduring are artefacts if there is no-one to explain their purpose?

Therefore, what exactly is legacy?

(Pyramids, I want me some pyramids…)

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Thomas Dinger – Für mich

fur mich

I’d set my alarm for Now, and it had gone, as described, so I upped, as necessary. Pausing only to sip on a PowerJuice® I embarked and began, the flow led me towards Mash, in Logovila. A big swine was going down, seeping. My job, such as it was, was to ease its stupor, and for this, I required a tardis. Having entered the reverential code of confidence, the entry slipped and I was forth, spread across the problem like a one-being solution. I smiled, which isn’t easy when you’re being spread across a problem, although it was actually quite an amenable problem, we had met before, these encounters had by way of a ritual about them. Ritual writ large, and with social consequences.

Who am I to care about consequences? Here’s a pillar, suffering, righteous, full and tottering, and if I don’t attend to it, I won’t attend to it and the vibrations will cause an event, much like creation, but not as good or as longlasting. Time, I suggested, for some monotony. Interesting times, indeed.

The judge sat me down, where I was resting, and began his instruction, regarding me as he regaled me, interpreting me as he introduced me to the subject I was to occupy that day. Metapillars were needed to counteract some very obvious dangers, many of which were manifesting internally in all sorts of interesting ways… remember, we’re aiming for tedium! At least you know what will happen with it. So I was to be the foreman on the Metapillar Construction Ethos, a new team of engineers with skills so obvious we should brook no bargaining. Don’t let the ice in…

The Redundant Architects™ have been moaning again, it seems… they knew the nanobuilders were coming, and they could have got on board, but no, they insisted their outmoded ‘Innovative Technique’ was the right way for building buildings, even though most of us had cottoned on to the fact that universal harmony was better adhered to, so designing builders that could be naturally attuned to such harmony seemed the most reasonable way of achieving these effects. Why they still insist on training these new architects who will never design a real building.. I overheard some of these talking the other day. They tell of a fantastical island in the middle of the ocean where human beings design a building before its built! Yes! And these are the rationalists…

“You’re on,” I said to your honour, just as he was leaving.
“You’re just swapping one kind of hassle for another, and calling it progress,” he replied, in the shape of a wandering interlocutor, dressed as an agitator, acting like a riot.
“So you say. I’m off hunting for buried pleasure.” I love a good ritual parting, and began my treatment. Today, we dowse with the electronic tonic, that which renders us not as we would otherwise be, but isn’t everything? By which logical proximity we can but surmise: all is as it should be, except for that which isn’t, and maybe not even that. I am not to say, for I don’t know, as knowledge is only transiently useful. I ordered the cringe, hardback edition, publishers discretion, subject to criticism – no work of art is complete without the stain of criticism. Fuck the purists, they have such sweet orgasms, god I want to fuck a purist.

JuJu – self titled

juju

Don’t forget the hinges, you might need them. Oh bugger, I left mine on the mantelpiece
–no, don’t go back, don’t worry about them. I’ve been thinking about giving them up anyway, this is as good a reason as any. I shall remain without hinges for a while
– unhinged, if you will, just to see what it’s like. I shall report back intermittently. Don’t wait up.

Joshua Abrams & Natural Information Society – Simultonality

simultonalityThe last time I was aware of Josh Abrams making an album, I had a bit of a grumble about how it wasn’t that easy to get hold of, at least for me. Well, that seems to have been fixed now, and I found that out by finding out that he had a new thing out. Not only that, but he’s also collaborated with the Soundbergs-approved Bitchin Bajas in the meantime.

This is the groovy end of jazz, the type I like, where the music does a number on me hypnotically. It seems to be a natural progression from the above-mentioned Magnetoception, nice long grooves with a motorik pulse. There’s nods to the spiritual jazz tradition of the Coltranes and Pharoah Sanders, but also a mellow, laid back feel. This music isn’t in a hurry; after all, there is no need to hurry to make an eternal point.

A few words have been typed making mention of the fact that this has been credited to Josh Abrams AND Natural Information Society, which suggests that this may be more collaborative than previous efforts. Whether that’s the case, or whether this is simply a more explicit acknowledgement of the collaboration, this is an excellent addition to Abrams output.

 

Ecstatic Vision – Raw Rock Fury

ecsvisionIn a still loud but otherwise quite contrasting way, this is the just-released second LP from Ecstatic Vision. I have no idea what their first is like, also having no idea how I stumbled across this – when I did, I was only able to hear You Got It or You Don’t, but I was sold on that thing alone. But now I can listen to the whole album, well, damn Daniel, the whole thing is just mighty fine.

I would personally describe this as a kind of garagey-punky-classic rock from the 70s/80s done by psychonautic blues-heads, so maybe The Stooges mixing it up with early-ish Whitesnake after a spliff ; also Endless Boogie who were much more recent. Nudity also come to mind, and a lo-fi White Hills. They mention Hawkwind which is also a good call if you imagine them at their most Motorhead-y!

This is psych-rock for a sunny day with the windows down. If there was any justice I’d hear this coming from every third car that drives past.

Nudity is God’s creation

isgodscreationRoughly some time ago, I and my friend Gareth swapped music via the then quite new method of the USB memory stick. He glanced through the list of folders on my 4 gig kingston and said, ‘blimey, I’ve only heard of about 5 of these and I thought I liked obscure music…’ Also, he could not get over the name of Kiss the Anus of a Black Cat. Also, he discovered Appliance, who were wonderful and really deserve a long devotional post from someone.

Bantering a couple of years later, he said to me ‘the thing about you is you like albums so obscure that even the band who made them forgot they did it!’

Which made me immediately show him Nudity’s Last.Fm page:

lastfm

(sidebar: go on, do an internet search for ‘nudity.’ I dares ya).

Now, since the above exchange, I think munikate has actually edited the comment, because it worked even better in context originally than it does now, although it still works a bit. Can you enlighten, munikate?

Still makes a good story though. Also, when I wrote my comment, Sons of Itto were in the similar artists. That may have been because Nudity’s listener count was barely higher than ours, and I was caning both at one time.

I was caning the ‘Winter in Red’ album in particular (which munikate seems to have called the nightfeeder’s album), and this thing makes up the latter part of Nudity is God’s Creation, released lately on Cardinal Fuzz. The first part is made up of Nudity’s self titled debut, and there’s a couple of unreleased tracks separating them. The albums were initially released only on limited CD-R runs, and my exposure came via another swap with someone of various files. Remember, kids: home taping is killing music.

Both releases were and are fantastic. The first is more roughly recorded and produced but has a wonderful energy about it. The second section of This Man may have predicted the emergence of the rather good Narcosatanicos, whilst Moon Druids is just batshit crazy in the best possible sense – imagine pastoral psych done in a NWOBHM style.

The latter part of the album, which I shall insist on calling ‘Winter in Red’ until someone from the band tells me not to, has a mere three tracks but will take a lot more of your listening time than the self titled. Naturally, I love it! Most deffo is this music my brother would not like. Take a groove and/or a riff and just keep playing the fuck out of it. If finale Le Premier Voyage du Captaine has you drifting off, I can promise you that the way they end it will wake you up. Also, it’s more than a bit like Parson Sound, which I usually consider to be a good thing.

The overall mashup is probably best described as a psychedelic mashup between AC/DC and Thin Lizzy, with hints on some tunes from Julian Cope, particularly in his Jehovahkill era.

If you like this, they are still around and putting stuff out – check out Astronomicon from 2015.