Rustling leaves
The rock ascent
Under a lifting sky
Of furtive burning winds
An ethereal night view:
One thousand fireflies
Light a map,
A brownian grid
Over hidden green
And scarred scruff.
Glimmering lights.
Above the dark
Penetrating velvet
In a flash
An ancient incinerates.
That so much comes from nothing
In a chaotic journey of cataclysm,
Transformations undulating
Matter not the state of the element
Who's energy yields a state of matter,
And shift-swinging back and forth
In collisions incomprehensible
To the fabric of nothingness
Connected to time: a stone floats.
Timeless infinite from the start
Yields inevitable fate,
The grave pull of substance
To a well unyielding and irresistible,
Authority to a logical consistency
Predictable to the omniscient
While stochastic to the viewer
Who looks into the void
At his own given time..
That from something will go nothing
In a chaotic journey of cataclysm,
Frictional pulses stroke gently violent
Matter not the increase that corrupts,
As structural stability forces open
To shift back to all but a speck
Randomly placed in a tapestry
Assembled from the fabric of all and none
That waits but for time to loop back.
how did i know the right things to say?
how did i know where to move and how to act?
how did i find my way
through the complicated path
of life, love, friendship, family
when i've made so many mistakes
and done so many things i shouldn't have
and lied to myself about who and what i was
and ought to be lost remorseful ashamed humbled destitute alone
but somehow i'm not
and i'm grateful for that ability alone
because i alone know what i deserve
For many music is about structure
(no doubt the reason for the correlation between math and music),
Structure that allows one to rest conveniently on formality and predictability.
Monk takes the jazz structure and gives it a shake;
Like looking at a cubic frame of thin straw:
It wobbles, and provokes fear of falling or failure.
Yet Monk rarely failed, and his bouncy cushion,
Reminds some of the flexibility of life,
Yet disorients others in it's erratic qualities.
knowing that there is no all but only everything,
and no process to explain it,
i know not who to thank for this beautiful and exquisite,
delicate and suffering universe that we find ourselves in.
but there is no less love for it
for not knowing how it began.
I think I approach music in a mostly textural way, paying less attention to the detailed structure, but rather to the way it lays in the air, and how it approaches my ears. Once I find my footing then I can start to listen more closely, to appreciate, analyze or engross myself in what the artist has created. I wonder how others find their way into sound, what appeals first to another. Sometimes I only have a feeling for a certain music I've heard, having a horrible ability at adequately describing and even remembering the sound I encounter from my memory of it; perhaps simply for the sheer volume of it! But it matters not. It simply matters that I approach the music in the first place, and the volume that I do, for there is so much to hear!
So a quick new entry, I've been writing much in small snippets of a fixed characteristic, but not nearly enough for myself. In NC for the last week helping my mother to get herself together after the death of my step-father last September. Overall she's doing well, but as with anyone who goes through a profound loss, it's important for her to keep focus on the longer goals, and to be good to herself.
Why need we forced realization?
How hard is it to lose the way,
What lateral forces warp
The otherwise forward path of our lives?
Yet must we fight ahead.
~~
How can we have anything
Other than suffering,
Yet while knowing,
Suffer still,
The very without which
We wouldn't know
The meaning of this loop.
Thinking of album art again, seeing a tiny rendition of Spirit "Twelve Dreams of Dr. Sardonicus." How sad that so many of the coming generation have no strong association between the static visual art and music - active visual art forms have so supplanted this thought provoking creative form. It's a pity, my own reaction to the various musics I've pursued is so tied up in their visual appearance. I've spent so much time reflecting randomly over a cover propped in my lap while listening on a hazy afternoon. No doubt that will change, as it's very existence was an augmentation to the perception of the music starting with the printing of sheet music; before that music was related only to the appearance of the musicians. Which certainly provided a great visual and social component, as it has mostly unchanged all the way through music's history. Music as a detached object only, the perception of radio programming, perhaps the thing most unique to our generation of listeners.
But I ramble... this is just a kick in the pants to write more, for the good or bad of the reading public. We live in interesting times, should we not speak out about our part. The drifting pace of Ocean Isle against the rapid chaos of NYC, the strip joint in battle with the bible billboard, a race of words to preside over the country in a competitive culture that wants to shoot itself out of existence. We should all be talking...
This has been a fun week at Squidco, with a lot of favorite labels had new releases available or news of the same - psi, Tzadik, Cuneiform.
First and foremost, a new set of psi releases, Evan Parker's sublabel of Emanem, which has documented the great European Free Improv scene for decades. My favorite of the lot is Bark!, which has links to Furt and Stock, Hausen and Walkman. (I don't hasten to add the last, only because the music comes from a different attitude, though SH&W's later works are much more experimental than their initial plunderphonic humour releases. Bark!, despite the instrumentation which might imply loud interactive sound, is actually quite subtle, a delicate interplay that requires intent listening; not anything you'll be snapping your fingers to, but really fun to listen to.
The Houle / E. Parker / Delbecq release La Lumière De Pierres is the most notable of the set. The real duo here is Delbecq and Houle: clarinetist Delbecq and prepared/pianist Houle have worked together since 1997. Delbecq approaches the piano as a "fabric", drawing on Cage and Ligeti for inspiration, and using African timbres and polyrhythms in his approach to the keys. Houle's work is informed by the work of Evan Parker or William O. Smith, as he creates multi-layered compositions that expand the possibilities and language of the clarinet. Delbecq and Houle have long had an interest in collaborating with a 3rd person, and in in 2005 were invited by composer Michel Frigon to perform at his Innovations concert series in Montréal with Evan Parker. Seeing an excellent opportunity to record this trio formation, the results are this release, on Evan Parker's own psi label, a distinctive sonic world and approach to improvised explorations.
New Tzadiks arrived today, with two anticipated releases: Massacre's "Lonely Heart" and Death Ambient "Drunken Forest." Massacre started life in New York City in 1981, two years after Fred Frith moved to the city. This was an amazing time for music in the city, leading to bands like Material, New York Gong, Scritti Politti, Golden Palominos and No Safety. Given that, Massacre was originally very short lived, a trio of Bill Laswell on bass and Fred Maher on drums. The band released one album on Celluloid, Killing Time that was instantly remarkable for the opening number "Legs," a 'killer' track with an incredibly mean hook - Recommended Records revived the album last year. Most of the album is improvised rock in the Downtown NY mode, skronky and convoluted work that's a sonic display of great power and interest.
The original Massacre only lasted a year, but was brought back to life by swapping Fred Maher with Charles Hayward, one of the planet's most intense drummers. Hayward is probably best known from This Heat and Camberwell Now, but has also has a huge history of solo work and collaborations with many amazing players, including Peter Brotzmann, David Shea, John Edwards, Phil Manzanera, Percy Howard, Veron Reid, Trey Gunn, &c. Tzadik has now released 3 Massacre records: Funny Valentine, Meltdown, and now Lonely Heart. The first two are intensely amazing releases, Funny Valentine a studio effort from 1998 that is a massive work of improvised rock, a building work that shows the potential of the new group. Meltdown was recorded live in 2001 at Robert Wyatt's Meltdown Festival in London. The band plays in a more standard improv format, but given that it's Frith/Hayward/Laswell that's an amazing format with a ferocity and huge sound that few other trios could pull off. The live format being the natural state of this band, Lonely Heart takes us to the opening set for Metallica (!) at the Roskilde Rock Festival in Denmark, an open-air festival that attracts more than 80,000 fans. Apparently playing for metal-heads is a serious motivator for this band, because they pull out all stops to create 5 seriously scorching tracks. Frith in particular shows his often implied pyrotechnical abilities, while Laswell and Hayward play with an intensity that makes for a flat-out amazing release.
Cuneiform also chimed in with three new releases, and not a weak one in the lot (it's hard to expect anything different from Steve Feigenbaum's). For the improv listener, the double release of Steve Lacy and Roswell Rudd, with Jean-Jacques Avenel from Lacy's European trio and quintet settings. Lacy's work with Roswell Rudd had a long history, and the two were very like-minded musicians with similar tastes in jazz genres. These recordings were from the period 1999-2002, the first CD containing mostly Lacy originals with one Monk tune; the second CD presents both Rudd and Lacy compositions, along with Cecily Taylor and more Monk, including alternate takes. Lacy's young passing has left us with a wealth of unreleased material; kudos to Cuneiform for making this material available.
The other two Cuneiform releases are in their more typical complex and unusual rock forms. The more powerful of the two is by Upsilon Acrux, a band with a decade as a band and five albums under their belt. This San Diego area rock group plays intricate and aggressive instrumental rock with a prog flair in complex compositions that use fantastic technical abilities to wrangle unusually angular attacks against oddly beautiful melodies, with quick drumming and breathtaking guitar riffs. Think Crimson or Sleeping People.
On a more contemplative side, Alec K. Redfearn and The Eyesore's 6th release is an ambitious album of songs. Redfearn has been releasing albums since 1991, first with the Amoebic Ensemble and then starting in 1998 with The Eyesores. Redfearn himself is a songwriter, accordionist, improviser and composer. The Eyesores were formed in '97 as an outlet for Redfearn's songs, but developed into a more ambitious organization that takes on a variety of musical styles; from Redfearn's own description, the eyesores play "slow, simmering, noirish dirges, spastic no-wave tangos, repetitive rhythmic conundrums, Weimar-style cabaret songs, Drunken revelry, crippling depression, extreme self loathing, Catholic guilt, clanking, scraping and radio noise." That sounds about right, but leaves out the charm and fascinating sophistication of their musical works. This album in particular is an excellent example, leading with a few unusual orchestrated songs, leading to a song cycle for large ensemble including violin, viola, french horn, bassoon, loops and electronic mayhem. The cycle is a eulogy and meditation about drug addiction and death, a somber yet beautifully moving work. Comparisons to the work of Lars Hollmer, Slapp Happy, Nimal or Volapük aren't far off.
I've suffered with this concept for the last few years: there is no reasonable way to describe modern improvised music! Even if I thought I knew the English language reasonably well, there are only so many swoosh hum bleep adjectives, and far too many opaque or personal references that mean something to the writer and less to nothing for the reader. Detailed analysis ends up with something virtually unreadable, while literal descriptive passages are dull and do no justice to the interest of the resulting performance. And in the end, that's what we're all interested in: what makes compelling or fascinating music?
But there's the rub: I have no choice but to try the descriptive process, because we sell plenty of this kind of music, and helping filter the wheat from the chaff ought to be part of my job.
Now this isn't to say that electro-acoustic music deserves a distinct seat from other improvised musics. In fact, we have little to no language for those forms, and what little language we have for most compositional music developed over centuries and works precisely because the sonic and inertial aspects of the music are more predictable (I respectfully remove modern compositional forms from this ugly, generalizing statement!)
...
So what brought this all on? This piece of text that I wrote today about the latest Bark! release on psi (Contraption): "This second release takes the trio to new realms with unusual interactions punctuated with Marks' astute drumming and Obermayer's singular sampling." Now, I fundamentally agree with this but the tone is histrionic, and it doesn't really convey a single bit of information. I know hype when I see it, and there it is. Surely there's a better way...
Which is, I think, continuing the more trite descriptions in the store, but using the 'Ear to summarize and categorize in broader terms the ea-improv (and other ea forms) releases that we sell. This allows a broader sweep, and more importantly, allows me to comment on personal favorites while not discounting a release in it's sales state. Still sound crass? Hopefully this takes away a bit of that bitterness... damn, it's still only about the music, and if I really love it myself then it's not exactly schilling, it's more about the letdown of language.
Another day's done
Another honest profile's ambitious gaol
Lost haze of need want and chaos
So that dumbfounded look around
Feels only forces exert
Against feeble efforts
Still not deterred
And not encoded on diverting paths
From intentioned filtered forces
Wishing East to West
That efforts enforce around
Not easy ways
NP: listening to the dark ambient world of Maurizio Bianchi - here's an excerpt from the description:
Maurizio Bianchi has been creating electro-acoustic music since 1979, originally aligned with the Nurse With Wound/Whitehouse noise community. He removed himself from the music world in 1984, but was drawn back by the Alga Marghen label, who offered him his own record deal, allowing him to repress older works and offer new releases. Since then he has continued working in the electro-acoustic world, gaining notoriety for his subtle use of loops and layering of sound. This limited edition release on Incunabulum is the 3rd release for that label, presenting 6 mysterious, rich heavily resonant chambers of sound.
This leads onto the new Alvo Noto, who recently released a beautiful album with Ryuichi Sakamoto. Based around the notion of copying, as in a Xerox machine, this is glitchy, playful music with unlikely rhythms and counterpoints coming from punctual and fuzzy tones, but also some beautiful hissy atmospheric work. Really lovely and interesting music.
Last, to keep the sound compositions coming, is the new Seth Nehil, "Amnemonic Site". Nehil released his "Jgrzinich" (easy for you to say) release on Jason Kahn's Cut label; he's a really interesting sound artist who works with a variety of sound source to come up with intensely growing and twisting works. Really impressive manipulations. Nehil has recorded with Olivia Block, and has composed sound works for CD, multi-speaker installation, solo and large-group concerts, dance, theater and multi-media performance. He's also the co-editor and designer of FO A RM magazine, a journal of arts and research with a focus on sound art, which we've sold here at Squidco.
...
Odd radio show today, and unfortunately the connection was broken between Live365 and my machine at 1 hour 38, which I know because that's how many minutes the resulting sound file made :( The show was themed around plunderphonics, fueled by the recent Martin Tetrault release, Snipettes, which has been amusing me for the last few days. The show relied a lot on Stock, Hausen and Walkman, and Tape Beatles/Public Matter, with other obvious bits by Negativland and John Oswald (I didn't go quite as far as his incredibly condensed Discosphere release...)
I managed to sneak in some unrelated pieces for a bit of breathing room, most importantly the lovely "Whales Cemetery" from Alessandro Stefana's new release "Poste e Telegrafi" on Important Records. I'm pretty new to Stefana, an Italian guitarist who works in relaxed but extended guitar pieces using unusual instrumentation. Most of the 7 pieces are duos, with one trio including Marc Ribot. What strikes me is the way the pieces build up, with an interesting approach to mixing that adds a lot of aural excitement but still keeps things beautifully paced. A little hard to describe, but of the recent Important releases this one has found its way most often into my play pile.
The playlist for the show is at :http://www.squidsear.com/phpBB2/viewtopic.php?t=337, and like most shows, is updated during the broadcast with the currently playing piece.
Busy week, and little time to write... but I wanted to mention the new Emanems again, as we've assembled the new releases on the site. SME, the Spontaneous Music Ensemble, is perhaps the most important historic pair of releases - the great John Stevens was a seminal figure in the Euro free jazz scene, both as a percussionist but also as an influential thinker and conceptualist who died far too young. Frameworks presents 3 original frameworks, which were Stevens approach to formalizing free playing, each with a different group and orchestration, up to 1970's SME lineup including Maggie Nichols (Nichols did a great group improv record called "The Gathering" on Emanem a few years back, a tribute to Stevens. Quintessence is taken from a 1974 live concert with a very different yet historically important lineup including Derek Bailey, Evan Parker, Trevor Watts and Kent Carter. Amazing and important stuff.
Listening more to Tetrault's Snipettes record. As I mentioned the other day, this is a reissue of a very limited set of 1992 cassette tape releases. To me, this is far more interesting than the more recent noise improvs that Tetrault has been involved with. Here he created a virtual orchestra from a set of records. The title piece is my personal favorite, an unusual but wonderfully paced set of plundered parts, including Star Trek voice samples from actors other than Shatner and Nimoy, but more importantly, using a very eclectic mix of virtual instruments. It's clear from listening to both works that Tetrault put a lot of careful consideration into the selection of source material and how the pieces were to be performed. It's both remarkable and really entertaining. And inspiring me to play a lot of plunderphonics material on the radio show today...
Other Ambiances related material, the new Malasartes release Muzika of
Damian Nisenson, Jean Félix Mailloux and Pierre Tanguay. Malasartes is an offshoot of Ambiances Magnetiques, part of a trio of releases revolving around bassist Jean Félix Mailloux. Which is a little odd because the label is led by Argentinian tenor sax player Damian Nisenson, who is only featured on the Muzika release. As Ambiances Magnetiques gets more involved in jazz, and easy transition as so much of the work on the label has come close to traditional jazz (think Evidence, or the Ambiances Jazz sublabel, featuring work from Jean Derome or Norman Guilbeault). Muzika in particular deserves a listen, if for no other reason than the work of the great drummer Pierre Tanguay, but more importantly for Nisenson's playing and writing.
A nod to EM Records (Japan), who sent us a nice stack of CDs to consider a couple of years ago, but which we haven't carried yet (we're working on getting the recent Tim Olive release in stock. I gave EM's "Android Sisters" release a play this week, and was really amused by both the music (odd electronica often in a Kraftwerkian mode) and the great lyrics, including a hoot of a piece about how the Android Sisters need to dumb down their songs to get more radio play. Again, meat for the radio show...
Katz four
Just temp'ry insanity
Who hiss fit and suspick
And stretch claws in symb'lism.
But when balls are cut
They still play out their rage
While unwinding accept
What the nose says is what.
Another busy day at the store getting the new set of Clean Feeds, which have been coming at us in a barrage lately! It's great to see such vital music selling well and fueling the label, another great cultural present from Portugal. Why do other parts of the world get our music better than our own?...
A few new ones from Montreal's Dame/Ambiances Magnetiques set of labels. Martin Tetrault's "Snipettes" is the obvious easy choice here, a re-release of early and limited run cassette releases (another format that's getting the 8-track enamor lately). The interesting three though are the Malasartes works, another entry in the straight-ahead jazz world of Montreal, and put out by the compatible collective of Ambiances Magnetiques. The Mailloux Trio is the more melodic of the three, but the ears go to the Nisenson, Mailoux/Tanguay, no doubt for my long love of Tanguays expressive drumming. Still working my way to Cordame...
Also working my way to the new Emanem's, particularly excited about the Phil Minton "Slur" which found itself on my desk today...
STRAIGHT FROM THE SITE:
Wrote this description for the excellent "White Bicycles" VA release:
Joe Boyd graduated from Harvard in the 60's with big dreams of being involved with the music industry as business man, a tour and record producer. Driven by a love of the new underground psychedelic music from bands like Pink Floyd, Nick Drake, The Incredible String Band, Soft Machine, he threw himself into this new music world and the rest is history. All of this is documented in his book "White Bicycles: Making Music in the 1960s", a fascinating read about the time and Boyd's involvement in it. This CD is the complement to the book, 23 tracks from Boyd's history of production work, from taking a risk on the fledgling Pink Floyd by producing "Arnold Layne" through huge names like Nico, Fairport Convention, or Chris McGregor's Brotherhood of Breath. A truly great collection of music and a great retrospective on an essential producer and visionary of the time.
About two weeks ago we added an RSS feed to the site to list our latest releases - currently it lists the same new items as you see on the home page.
If you're unfamiliar with RSS feeds, the idea is to provide people with a quick and lightweight list of items that are new or of interest on a website. The concept was created to help manage the massive amount of information on the web, and has been picked up by most news sites.
There are many RSS readers out there, and happily the best are free. My recommendation is to use the WIZZ RSS Reader that you can install as an add-on in Firefox, both on the Mac and Windows. Once you've installed it you can drag our RSS feed link from the bottom of our pages into your list of RSS sites. When you click on it you'll see a list of new items on Squidco. Hovering over one give the album thumbnail and a short listing. Clicking on the link will take you to the website for that entry.
Once you're familiar with RSS there is no faster way to see what's new on Squidco! And if you read a lot of news on the web there is no better way to stay informed!!
A couple of very notable rock additions to the store this week: starting with New York's Psychic Paramount. Patrick brought this band to my attention, who he's familiar with from the scene (Patrick is half of Latitude Longitude, in case you weren't aware). "Psychic" here definitely means psychedelic, but it's also a bit psychotic - instrumental rock with incredibly dense grooves that are manipulated, reversed, twisted around in various directions that keeps things interesting. "Gamelan Into The Mink Supernatural" is the album to start with - Origins & Primitives is the album to move onto after becoming familiar with the band.
Speaking of tough twisted rock, but stepping back a few decades and moving to Japan, comes the new Masayuki Takayanagi album on the excellent Japanese label Doubtmusic. We've carried his New Directions Unit double releases, also on Doubtmusic, as well as the New Direction Unit release on Eclipse. Takayanagi was an early leader in free improv rock, a fusion form that was definitely influenced by jazz, but is really rooted in rock. Bands like his lead the way for bands like Ruins or Koenji Hyakkei. For a full discography of Takayanagi see http://www.diana.dti.ne.jp/~katta/discography_e.html
Speaking of new rock, we're now carrying both of the excellent Moving Gelatine Plates releases on Musea. MGP were an early influential band in the same world as Etron Fou or even Debile Menthol. The French sense of absurd humor lives in bands like these, but put the jokes aside because the music is paramount here, complex and zig-zagging music that draws from an eclectic set of influences. Performing links to Magma and Gong might give you an idea, but this short-lived band were in a class of their own.
Finally got the time to give a serious listen to Fred Frith's Impur. [details of the recording] The breadth of the composition is impressive, borrowing from musical style around the globe, and putting them into a context that's both improv and compositional friendly. Should all compositional music be so informed! The percussion in particular deserves notice, deep drum tones guide ecstatic rhythms and syncopated shots, a combination of kit and percussive/tympany instruments that imparts a great deal of energy to the music. At times it sounds like something Charles Mingus might have written, with stabbing thrusts from the brass section while busy horns buzz and gyrate around melody snippets.
"In 1996, at the end of a two year residency, Fred organised an event at L'Ecole Nationale de Musique de Villeurbanne in France. He roped in as many of the students as he could, grouped according to their departments (early music, rock, African drumming, classical &c), and set them up in all the rooms in the building. The public wandered around creating their own mix, or sat in the courtyard listening to the sound drifting out through the open windows. For their part, each group of musicians played their own specially written music and occasionally were asked to improvise, all of them following a precise time-score prepared by Fred (55 minutes long). Synchronize watches. The whole thing was recorded on 4 A DAT machines and was later mixed - this was the result: an exiting, lurching and capricious beast with many heads, by turns an orchestra tuning up, a salute to Sonny Blount, a roiling chaotic mass of sound that splitting into layers colliding back together, pullulating, ululating, roaring and sometimes mewing like a kitten."-Chris Cutler
Several new releases at the end of the week, probably the best by my taste are the two Sonic Arts Network releases: "Frankfurter Ahnung - Curated by Ben Watson" and "The Topography Of Chance - Curated by Stewart Lee". For those unfamiliar, these are very eclectic various artist releases, featuring great sets of musicians known and unknown, with spoken word interludes and other odd chatter. On both of these releases Derek Bailey features prominently, mostly speaking over his playing, with one piece about the build-up for the current Iraq war. The books are half-magazine size booklets that detail the recordings, and otherwise frame the concept of the book, using clip art construction or, in "Topography," maps, as a motif for the package. Previous releases that we still have in stock are the excellent "Big Ears: Fitzgerald's Manifesto" about the proposed 1931 manifesto that Charles Fitzgerald recommended all broadcasters to follow, and "The Agents of Impurity" about guilty pleasures in the historic avant-garde. There are very few VA releases that I'd strongly recommend, but these radio-oriented packages are extremely interesting collections. (Another strong recommendation is the Oregone package which we also carry, another fine eclectic mix!)
Also, here's a reply to a customer asking about John Wall:
John Wall's pretty amazing, his music is remarkably dynamic and obsessive, I've been a fan for many years. They're all very interesting releases, so it's kind of hard to select one. Fractuur and Alterstill are both excellent compositions, if I had to pick between the two I'd go with Fractuur. If you want to hear more recent material I'd go with the Hylic EP, which will save you a couple of bucks on the listen, and is probably a good amount of material to take from Wall at one go.
Recovering from some very nasty weather here in NYC, hours of sleet (which is a nice way to say it's raining ice), more like something from my native Syracuse, NY... made for a good night to stay in and listen to music though!
Spent the morning cataloging new releases, all of which made it to Squidco this afternoon. Leading off with a new double Faust live disc, which I haven't heard yet, but looks really interesting. Such sad news last year that Uwe Nettelbeck passed away. Still the band moves forward, which is great for us listeners. To balance the Faust we added the massive Residents "Kettle of Fish" box, which look stunningly beautiful, and includes a 56 page booklet. Surprisingly reasonably priced, given that it's a Euro Ralph release.
Most of the new releases are in the improv realm today - two new Intakts, including a Sylvie Courvoisier CD with her group of Mark Feldman, Ikue Mori, Vincent Courtois & Gerald Cleaver. Also a very interesting looking Wadada Leo Smith & Günter Baby Sommer. 482 released trumpeter Taylor Ho Bynum's latest, duo work with drummer Tomas Fujiwara.
On the more free-form improv scene we added the House Leek Audio label to our roster. Chris Dadge, of the Bent Spoon Ensemble, another Calgary (Canada) improv artist, turned them on to us, and we're glad they did - Cody Oliver is the label leader, and has been playing interesting guitar/violin string over cycling noise floors. Not sure if that makes it sound interesting, but I found that and Thom Golub's cello improv, which is very subtle, both good examples of restrained improv, the former more in the e-a improv world, while Golub's work acoustic but using a more modern language. Good stuff.
Last, a new addition to the LTM set, which we've been purposefully growing... the latest release focuses on Bauhaus from 1919-1933, a mix of interviews and music from Bauhaus influenced artists like George Antheill and Stefan Wolpe. LTM's series, including Futurist, Dada and Surrealist music, has been a tremendous source of historic audio We first came on LTM seeking out Satie, but we're really convinced by the label. In fact, it made us start the "Historical" recordings section of the store.
Speaking of sections, we've now added a "Limited Edition & Out of Print" section to the store, which you'll find in the "Miscellaneous" section of the left navigation bar. I also added a link to the "World" music section of the store, which was somewhat implicit, but was only visible if you were already looking at a world release product. Check out the new Sublime Frequencies (Sun City Girls) releases while you're there!
I listen to a lot of music, but it seems I rarely talk about it. This blog (forum) has sat unused for too long, mostly because of the spammers who sought to co-opt it, and a general lack of interest from readers. So, like a good new release at the store, here's to a fresh outlook on ears :)
Spent the day making changes to the store - no doubt someone pulled some funny looking pages at some point, and Len 37 wrote once to say that their were no products on the store - doh! Everything should be fixed now, and Patrick must want a raise because he said it looked awesome ;) I can't stop tinkering with the site lately, but hopefully it's for the better.
Anyway, on music, watching the new Looper/John Tillbury DVD as I write this (with one eye, that is) and I'm quite impressed. The visuals are one concept, layers of images at various transparencies, which change to give a different foggy composite that wags back and forth a bit. Faces, bodies, textiles, many religious icons, and who-knows-what-else emerges - right now a fascinating juxtaposition of lips and eyes with something that looks like a turban shifts on an axis. Before it seemed like Barbara Eden in her Jeannie garb was trying to emerge out of a cloud. Odd stuff, and not really something to stare at continuously (unless you've taken opium or the like!) I'd love to see something like this on the wall at a club or bar... if they'd play the music too.
But that's unlikely, given that it's very minimal progression, AMM-like scraping, bowing, rumbling, really beautiful and rich sound textures. Tilbury plays gently on top of that, so gently that the piano simply hints at melodies and progressions. Looper are Nikos Veliotis on cello, Martin Küchen on sax and Ingar Zach on percussion. I've heard a good amount of Ingar Zach, but Looper as a unit is new to me. Their restraint within a good deal of sonic pressure is impressive, the cello providing continuous tone as Küchen plays with an amazing subtlely that hardly sounds like a saxophone. Haunting and gorgeous.
A great follow-up to the new NVO titles I listened to last night, , Heribert Friedl's excellent label with artists like Bernhard Günter and Richard Garet. We just started selling this label after listening to the impressive promos they sent. It reminds me considerably of the Portugese Creative Sources label, really understated slow moving but sonically fascinating improvisations. More and more I find this music something like a wooly (and often erratic) blanket that I can wrap myself up in while I'm cataloging CDs late at night.
Looks like MASS has ended for the night, so no doubt it's time to take a break.
Keep listening!
phil
everything is alive
everything is destructible
everything is a toy
nothing is important
Back and pleased,
Though disappointed at last,
While hopeful to the future
That remarks diseased
From childhood's past
And furtive ventures
I look up at knees
Hoping to see:
Finding Only that I am as callous
As you
As fragile
As you
But older and more false-experienced.
I think I know.
Nothing in fact presents us
To each other
And we can only force air
In each other's direction
Hiding behind schedules
That mask our independent desires
And our misunderstood needs.
type type type type type
a tongue twister
that is, the fingers flailing
you keep talking and talking and talking
and nothing comes out
you're as frustrated as ever
and you can't think
you can't think
you can't think
while your mind is running overtime
overflow
overexposure to the inner core
of your mind
vacuous mind
why are you panting?
why are you breathing so heavy?
stop stop stop stop
stop it,
you're hurting me
why do you always have to be grabbing me like that?
let me go
i'm trying to get away
from me, let me go, let me go!
i can't stand it,
it's like you understand
but you don't know anything
and you keep pushing me
and pushing me
and pushing me
and i keep hoping
you'll let go
and let me just relax
float downstream
take my time and not regret
one little piece of fun
one little part of my life
clustered life
confusing i don't know what you call it
it keeps going on and on
and you just keep sitting there
thinking you're wiser every moment
but knowing you're a puny little thing
and it just doesn't matter
you smile
or look cool
or take it all in stride
aloof
with abject terror inside
you're just hoping and wishing
that something
anything
is going to happen
to take you away
to put you in your own mind
to make you whole
and never more lonely
but you can't
you can't
you can't
let go of yourself
and you're always pushing.
there's a siren outside
it runs when it needs to
and you can't make it stop
.
driving down the breath
the heart back-beating
to regularity
pulling
into
the station,
peering around the corner
the window of the front car
grimy station scattered waiters
he stands in stared fascination
looking for
the one
that was meant for him
that was sent for him
to devine
or disturb
or deviate
or distract from their true path
or replace the current one with
or fulfill
or expand and satisfy
or confuse and destroy
or
have no effect at all
despite so wanting to
so alone
the doors close and he's gone
walking the stares searchingly
the train
pulling
away
metronomic screech
an echo in the distance
his breath is held
hard pressing
knock-kneed clutching
in the corner sweat hair
matting on your head
withdrawn from the topical world
free-floating
devoid of hunger, thirst
impulse procreation
excretion respiration
the whole blood flowing
through the veins
exploding in a silent bang
delusion of exclusion
rings the phone again
(xtc's) humble daisy is a piece of perfection, a merging of so many ideas that flow together at the will of their creators: a complex song that sounds so easy, that shows love of life - falling on the lawn alongside a daisy staring at the sky - languidly laid out building tension within while realizing humour, love and affection for life. what a sweet sophisticated moment.
daydreamer
maybe the idea isn't to concentrate
and that the age-old belief that stronger powers of concentration gained as one matures
are a positive trait
and not a weakening of ability.
maybe concentration is a lessening of the ability to multi-task
and that those who favor it are less able
to work on several tasks at once
or to work and freely think at the same time
or especially to allow thinking
to be the primary task
when it wants to be.
the daydreamer
takes more time
to solve the riddles
and ponder
the unthought of.
the a.d.d. child
is simply bored
at being so minimally challenged
why do i dislike the current administartion [2004]? - a bleak future of profiteering and determination to homogenize a world for the economic benefit of a select few - "the haves and the have mores." i recently realized that i was getting more cautious as i reached into my 40's, because i now glimpse at how precious life is and aim to get to my stated goal of 89 in one piece. current doctrine makes my life more dangerous; it breeds hate from intervention in what we don't understand, and don't care to understand. and hate against me who harbours none against them is an ironical fate i'd as well avoid.
heinlein wrote something to the regard that increased longevity would eventually stop wars because who wants to die at 18 if they have the chance of living to 200? 90 is significantly more than most of us have to expect... yet modern medicine, if unhindered by calamity, might make it more likely to make it to 90 by the time i reach there. i don't want that chance thwarted for the aims of a few. democracy benefits the majority, neoconservative attitudes reward the few.
Whose heart is so small
That embraces
The pivot point of three;
And watching almond eyes
Smiles coy
We all reach wishing...
I've been here before
On the other side
But grinning as I hold myself back
I still reach
where have i been that so far along can only find my way here. now.
and that i haven't been away is a lie of distraction that life has taken me in so many directions, such transgression and digression and focus into other ways.
and here i once wrote and spoke and tried to find a way to smoke away the hours and synthesize experience. and experience is only itself, and so away, away, away! or say something else digressive...
the hard rock locking existence,
sensate and droning and pushing on the sleeves
of a t-shirt happiness that flies in the face
of all the contrite landings of staple flies,
pussing on the sleeves and holding firm.
"away from here" shouts the loudest one,
and buzzing here and there stirs up the hornet's nest
and told his worm, alas, i have to fire you,
there is no other way
(a simple song)
and dragging them away he spray
"it's festive day in 'wood"!
and all the Wormwood citezn'ry
pushed up their shrunken heads
to pat themselves affirmative
for eating all that 'wood
(end song)
i can't see the way from here to there. i've been pushing at a mystical envelope that i refer to as existence. there's a way here and there, but other needs are difficult and petulant and push me here and there... and there's the rub. i need the life of time and the means to pull it off.
ho-hum
can it be that this is what there is all there is why there is ?
can it be that we all share the same existence
without a care
staring where we force our sharing
grudging all that is above
while fear below ?...
evidently so. and so it's not.
where is uniformity? where is a unifying anything in this chaotic world?
we try to unite, and to a certain site it survives
but distrust drives it away
and i'd like to say
if i could
we should change it
but we can't.
yet
The day the dead people came to dream
My grandfather; my neighbor
In mutated voices discuss medical machines
Ask me of my legacy.
A grandchild desires his early Christmas gift
While at a distance one thousand candles burn
The song unknown
Shocks my mother: you don't even know this one?
Forever cold and lonely
The cave roof's drip
Ceases dry on mounting pillars
Of incongruous stalagmites; erect
On top the vacant beds,
That side that took your shape
Nestled by my knees; Glides
The clean embrace over
Empty sheets. Pulled back,
My drops in empty hand
Won't reach you.
That vibrates,
Touching the air between
Two friends, clandestine haze
Of hedonistic desires
Against responsible need.
So callous the smile shines
The hugs shower
As the hand slips in
Depleting and deranging.
That bristles,
Eye to eye anger
restrained in denial
As supervised sobbing
Shuffles and sniffs
So hollow that leaves
Its wake an empty room,
Lost hands that shake,
And thoughts that harbour
Mistrust.
Resonating the personality
Two acquaintances. Apart.
I still draw pain towards me
It's never enough
To suffer short
Spells of sincerity
Lost in loveless denial
Evading possible endings
Loaded with meaning
Less of love
But desire; Loss of love
In the twisted vortex of examination
I put myself through
To know it's not over
But clearly once again
I'll take the wrong road
that each corner, building or park
takes its significance only
by the actions i experience there
and that jigsaw of life
builds a puzzling image
incomplete to the outersider
and fragmented from within.
that years of associations
root my memory in a blur of images
that fan and frighten me
that taught and tightened my mind
unloosing the strangle
of expectations from edifiers
to the realities of life.
===
all was once green
the park's hill lush and planted
across blank grey streaking street
mother and son clutching
wailing
in front of the funeral home.
has daddy been taken,
stolen from their life?
did the steel damage of technology
rip his subtle throat
tear his limbs and render him
next to dust?
did the very air that incited his lungs
bring the stale taste of death
in each inhalation?
and will the brown ground now carry him
as mother and son stare
past the trees and the grass
at life: a void of uncertainty,
dismal and lonely future.
my throat clutches, moist my eyes
wish to be, but harsh acceptance
and the indifference of my tangential experience
walk me by.
i do not rush to embrace them
to quiet their fear, though i could not offer
one hope; not even my language agrees
with the needs of their wanting grief.
i am an outsider, yet i will remember
what may be a daily path to stone
cold caves repeat life's depletion.
indifferent lives pass by
nodes of sorrow over and over
but for me this block now carries the weight
of grey versus green.
dreaming about doing,
but not doing;
fragments of activity
lost in the floating ambivalence
of the free formind.
in a world wanting action
standing...
idly by,
looking inward and out
where the silent tear trickles
dry on the cheek and the weak smile
inside dies.
and all around forced cheer.
concern for the rights and the needs
wanders a lonely river's path
to end nowhere.
Colleen,
I saw you today
In the raised jaw of a woman
Waiting for a train,
The flash of white teeth evokes
Your hand on my knee,
Head tilted back,
Wide smiling,
Long graceful curls
Tangling brown natural,
You, the one of few,
Teaching me;
Your words bounce about-
Small rules,
Attitude
And then we three at lunch,
Eating as a weeping woman
Searched in her bible,
And you so frustated as your life changed,
Gaining momentum.
She waited for her train.
I made my connection.
You lay in ruptured sleep,
deep in ground,
a strangled neck
unresolved.
manage freak, manage, overloading all the time, time showing where, time
showing us we don't know what when why where.
but we're authorized and ready, we're off to kindle war. peace prevail... there's no availing peace when everyone fears the process. off with the rockets!
the shocking disregard, the reprehensible, casual attitude to other's lives and the autonomy of others. and they see our hipocrisy, and for it they hate.
I say you bottle your rage:
Conical pressure bursting-
The glassed equilibrium,
Fingers point out
As quivering melts
A clear image
That shatters and spurts-
So cool,
So detached:
Cycle your energy;
Points on the spine
Toward the navel.
Bang-bang-bang!
I'm out,
Chasing the animals,
Down on my knees
Once again in the shadows,
My mind like a cloud:
How can one find his lover
Through walls blackly veiled?
Do you stretch back to a happier time?
Thrown into a memory so exact-
a sudden sensation-
You yearn to touch;
Entering the past
Your reflect harmony
Brings self to sight
And do you ache once more?
Caught deep in your groin-
though not sexual-
On realizing you are here;
Through metal windows
Deep socket eyes stare out
As light strobes by
Splitting my mind
Dissection each convolute
Held firmly by far spread bars
Loosely
So distant
Shunt off and incommunicate
So lonely
So afraid
Infinite distance
Countable in miles
No foreign land
Holds me from you
As blood flows from my wounds
Onto your razor
Into your teeth
I hold you and repeat:
I want you
Rubber humanity sticks to my hand
Like a black burn
Ten thousands of hands rub and clutch
Descending on silver steel tracks ending
At a stoop broken with marble or granite
Or just cheap cement
A thin coating
That, lovely, for
Hands outstretched to be held
As holding up we fall
Tumbling over and over
Our heads full of ideas
To clear the path
Or wash our hands.
To the left!
To the right!
If only you'd follow this plan
We'd receive a great cleansing
Rub off the black and proceed
If no caution conceives a great ill
We'll be washing until
No tomorrow
Again.
the doubt now replaced
with a once-sheltered beast;
now here it wand'rs,
seeking out feasts
well sneezing, in fact,
snot on ever'one's sleeves;
while not very active,
i think not diseased
but cute and accepted
(though jealousy reigns);
the family's perfected
with furballs insane
Overeating, overvomiting, overbearing and yet I want another. To be trained by the others to act as ridiculous as the last. To destroy, abuse and love, like any good animal; to be trained, to gain discipline, to understand. Well, one can hope...
The distraction of desire, the hope to have something to influence, the desire to distract an animal from wanton cruelty and death. But to keep the cycle of life and death active, to take part in the birth and decay of a species... it's acceptable and evil, beneficent and callous. And yet...
What does this purport to mean? That I'm searching for justification to take another life in; that now we have the space and means to care for another animal; to bring the count back to three, to increase our cat chaos...
Oh dear...
marching near the steeple
aching feet, the silly people
eating pie or something more
by and by they stop near stores
which they then take from the people
who make lives from turning creatures
into tiny little factories
which their hides they eat and eat
while they wonder at the people
scratching heads and asking people
"why the people hate the people
if they steal from them like this?"
and they turned and smashed the window
taking all that they could shovel
and then ran from all the people
as they shout "you all are evil"
Spent the day working in my office playing little bits of Tull... stuck in another time loop, though intermixed with Tim Berne, Bob Drake, and a little 'Trane to keep things ungrounded.
Thinking a lot about longevity, how some few have maintained integrity and how, even if their light is faded, they still represent themselves in the same artistic candor and refraction they've always maintained. At 41 I focus myself on Bill Burroughs, who came of age around 40. At the same time I can't forget the kind of persistence that pays off, that the same ideas I've worked with before still serve, but need to be amplified. Extended. Enhanced with new ideas, fresh perspectives, more experienced perspectives. Persistence. Patience.
walked 40, 80 blocks
the hot sun reflecting on
available storefronts,
close to Broadway
and the famed A train
calling salesmen, brokers
flat face telling us $8,000, $50
values of fear, determination
calling for product, profit, market
and we have so little
Kurt less wearied by it than I
expresses no concern
his expectations met;
I had secretly hoped for more
but so little meets expectation
am I forever beaten down?
is there no way to independence
without finance?
and is it so apparent that the beast's yoke
is upon me as well?
that institutions control and manipulate me?
and that I AM to place myself at their discretion?
but I won't.
this is not a doomed independence.
today it changes
the water pours, you
standing rigid, erect, shouting,
my internal quivering springs
a shaft to my heart
my head numb from waiting
waiting
and as if everything had happened
you walk away
water slices expectations
floods the essence of life
and if your mouth and nostrils open
to gush and fill; the fluids
drown, vanquish, flatten
what force drives me on?
what hope springs from hopelessness?
when the river pushes the bend
erosion is the winner
at end all is flushed
inside the violent torment
my head a watered tissue
muffled with the flowing
thoughts tormenting and tearing
where you never flow to feel
now never
now ever
no never again
until ever once
a drop floats;
a pretty drop
and I start the cycle again
warm to air;
ice to gas;
sublimate my feelings
that more may flow
am I caught in this pool?
Sweaty Sunday afternoon, the morning bike ride gone and the heat setting in... so what else to do but install free software??? With the rebirth of Squidco after 2 years of hard work on other people's projects, this seems like a good starting point for expression and preparation.
OK, just finished installing this blog, and also had a chance to update my iPod to it's latest (1.2) software. Now seems a good chance to add some new playlists.
First, Caravan needs to be added, as I've finally got a copy of the 2nd cd. Last month I journeyed to Trenton, NJ, the ironic capital of New Jersey, to see the Nearfest. Caravan played a reunion gig, drawing from their material and a little Robert Wyatt. I've always enjoyed Caravan, but never been a raving fanatic. Still, this completes the set of early releases for me and is, as the others, an excellent display of understated complexity.
Since I actually wrote this yesterday and am only now finishing it (I went to see 24 Hour Party People with Will & friends) I'll draw to a close...