Saturday, December 31, 2011
Thursday, December 29, 2011
Philemon Arthur and the Dung - Musikens Historia Del 1 Och 2
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Zombi - Surface to Air
This is an incredible combination of progressive rock and spacey synthesizers, like if you combined Isis and Umberto. Zombi is the project of multi-instrumentalists Steve Moore and A. E. Paterra, based in Pennsylvania. Surface to Air is their third album, and I couldn't pick a favorite track on here if I tried because they are all just that mind-blowingly good.
And to quote the person who recommended this to me:
"But Zombi... They remind me of early Trans Am but with elements of Wendy Carlos and Giorgio Morroder and 70's horror/suspense soundtracks. Lots of arppegiated synths which I've always loved."
Rye Coalition - The Lipstick Game
This is the second full-length by New Jersey post-hardcore/math rock band Rye Coalition. Founded in the early 90s, they have produced to date four full-lengths and various EPs and singles and splits, but a friend of mine told me that their earliest stuff is the best. The Lipstick Game is a chaotic blend of aggressive and discordant post-hardcore, with math rock influences. It is said that, two years in the making, the album was seen by many of their early fans as the band's pinnacle, and "documents some of Rye Coalition's most powerful and experimental songwriting." I haven't really heard anything like it, so I'm out of comparisons, but I think The Lipstick Game is a gorgeous album.
Saturday, December 17, 2011
The Hollow Men - Cresta
The Hollow Men were an indie rock/acoustic pop band from Leeds, England who, from 1985 to 1994, released four albums and several singles. Cresta is their third album.
There are many nice and poppy, 90s-sounding songs on here, many absorbed with the classic Leeds-rock feeling. My favorite track on Cresta would definitely be "Tongue Tied," even though it is the shortest and slowest one - it is pure magic.
Friday, December 16, 2011
Gorky's Zygotic Mynci - Tatay
I really love this album!
Gorky's Zygotic Mynci was a Welsh psychedelic pop/folk rock band founded in Carmathen, Wales in 1991. Tatay is their first album, but they've released quite a number of recordings until they broke up in 2006. Gorky's Zygotic Mynci is gorgeously psychedelic and sometimes sung in Welsh, sometimes English, but full of just wonderful, wonderful moments. "Beth Sy'n Digwydd I'r Buwch" is my favorite track, though, without a doubt.
Whenever I see the word "tatay" I think of Chip Cheezum giggling and saying "titty-mmm-bop-bop-tittays" (here). ANYWAY.
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Robert Schuman - Davidsbündlertänze and Fantasie
Mitsuko Uchida, pianist
This is an extremely important post not only for me, but for those who are interested in hearing piano music of a truly heavenly quality.
Mitsuko Uchida is a Japanese/British pianist renowned for her interpretations of Mozart, Schubert, Beethoven, Bach, Schumann, Chopin, and others. It has been more than 15 years since her last release of Schumann works, which included the Carnval and Kreisleriana. This recording was released in 2010, which marked the bicentennial birthday of both Chopin and Schumann.
I have honestly never heard a single Robert Schumann piece before these. Believing him to be, maybe, a poor man's Chopin, I had no idea what incredible depth and translucence there was to be found in this man's music. The combination of these two works, Davidsbündlertänze being slightly lesser known while the Fantasie is an esteemed piece of piano repertoire, yields an unprecedented experience of the finest piano music and piano playing that I've ever heard. He was a German composer of Romantic music, as well as a firm upholder of aestheticism. Much of his music is internal and personal, which might have turned me off before, but someone I know described a certain quality of Schumann's (he might not have meant for it to apply to him, but I believe that it does apply): "It is a kind of music, for example, where duration and feeling are in mutual exploration."
Davidsbündlertänze, or Dances of the League of David, is a composition consisting of eighteen short pieces written in 1837. Though I am not as of yet very familiar with Schumann, I have heard that there are two masks that he wore as a composer, and these two characters have names - Florestan and Eusebius. Uchida, in her interview, explains that Florestan represents the impetuous, passionate side, while Eusebius represents the quiet and timid nature of Schumann. It is noted that many changes had been made by Schumann to the original manuscript, as each of the eighteen pieces had originally been marked with either Florestan's or Eusebius' name or both to distinguish the particular character the piece would project, so that in the end one must make the decision himself. Uchida remarks that during her exploration of the piece she had come to the realization that both Forestan and Eusebius might be present all the time - one can never be sure. Eusebius might be peeking through Florestan's act, or maybe while Eusebius trembles in the background it is Florestan who mocks. Davidsbündlertänze does seem to be one of the greatest and most complex mysteries in the piano world.
Schumann's Fantasie in C, Op. 17, is a three-movement work completed in 1836 and dedicated to Franz Liszt. In the interview, Uchida mentions that the piece is practically spilling over with homage to Beethoven and his musical style. The Fantasie was, in fact, written to raise money to erect a statue of Beethoven in Bonn. The piece was not accepted to be published with any large firm, however, and was not officially issued until 3 years after it's composition. The Beethoven monument was, eventually, completed. Uchida says that at the very end of the second movement there are a number of nearly impossible leaps that Schumann asks the performer to make - both hands rapidly leaping in opposite directions! She says that to play the Fantasie perfectly, you must play it with one wrong note. If you play a difficult piece absolutely perfectly, the audience will not believe that it is difficult. But, if you play a difficult piece with an obvious mistake, the audience will believe the difficulty of the piece, and respect it more. Throughout this period in Schumann's life when he wrote not only the Fantasie and Davidsbündlertänze but many other works imbued with longing, passion, and influences of Beethoven and others, Schumann was struggling to be married to his love, Clara. They were married in 1840 after years of attempting to gain her father's consent, but after she became of legal age to wed, they no longer had to worry about him. She was an integral part of Schumann's musical vision, but I won't tell you more about that as Uchida explains that in detail during the interview.
This recording comes with a half-hour long interview with Mitsuko Uchida herself, and I am just as in awe of her as I am the piano works. She is a remarkably passionate woman - highly intelligent and fluid in her explanations of all that she knows, all of the knowledge and passion that she conveys through her piano playing. She has a heavy accent, but it is a voice that I might dream of reading bedtime stories to me. I was enthralled by the information that poured out of her, the experiences she has gained, and how deeply she connects with the music. She doesn't just play it, no. Uchida understands Schumann, exactly what his capabilities as a pianist and a man were, and this only heightens my admiration for her. She has such a deep understanding of what makes a great pianist, and this understanding can only come from years of studying, studying, studying, and also playing. She believes that the oddness of the music does not come from happiness, but from tragedy, something Schumann experienced all throughout his life.
In the interview Uchida says maybe one of the most beautiful things I have ever heard. To her, the greatest moments of music do not lie merely in beauty, but in a far rarer human emotion, and that is forgiveness. Eusebius forgives Florestan - forgiveness is shown, and this is what allows him to win. Throughout the musical dialogues of the Davidsbündlertänze you might notice that the nature of Eusebius defeats that of Florestan all because of the beauty of his forgiveness.
I am in love with Schumann now, and I want to hear everything he has ever written. I want to learn all I can about him. And not just him, but the dynamics of his relationship with Clara, and her lover, who I also love, Johannes Brahms. Schubert, Chopin, and Beethoven also play a huge role in the life of Schumann, according to Uchida. Ugh how could I have been so blind for all of these years?
01 Davidsbündlertänze, Op. 6, No. 1, Lebhaft (Florestand and Eusebius)
02 Davidsbündlertänze, Op. 6, No. 2, Innig (Eusebius)
03 Davidsbündlertänze, Op. 6, No. 3, Etwas hahnbüchen (Florestan)
04 Davidsbündlertänze, Op. 6, No. 4, Ungeduldig (Florestan)
05 Davidsbündlertänze, Op. 6, No. 5, Einfach (Eusebius)
06 Davidsbündlertänze, Op. 6, No. 6, Sehr rasch und in sich hinein (Florestan)
07 Davidsbündlertänze, Op. 6, No. 7, Nicht schnell. Mit äußerst starker Empfindung (Eusebius)
08 Davidsbündlertänze, Op. 6, No. 8, Frisch (Florestan)
09 Davidsbündlertänze, Op. 6, No. 9, Lebhaft (Florestan)
10 Davidsbündlertänze, Op. 6, No. 10, Balladenmäßig. Sehr rasch (Florestan)
11 Davidsbündlertänze, Op. 6, No. 11, Einfach (Eusebius)
12 Davidsbündlertänze, Op. 6, No. 12, Mit Humor (Florestan)
13 Davidsbündlertänze, Op. 6, No. 13, Wild und lustig (Florestan and Eusebius)
14 Davidsbündlertänze, Op. 6, No. 14, Zart und singend (Eusebius)
15 Davidsbündlertänze, Op. 6, No. 15, Frisch (Florestan and Eusebius)
16 Davidsbündlertänze, Op. 6, No. 16, Mit gutem Humor
17 Davidsbündlertänze, Op. 6, No. 17, Wie aus der Ferne (Florestan and Eusebius)
18 Davidsbündlertänze, Op. 6, No. 18, Nicht schnell (Eusebius)
19 Fantasie in C Major, Op. 17, I. Durchaus fantastisch und leidenschaftlich vorzutragen; Im Legenden-Ton
20 Fantasie in C Major, Op. 17, II. Mäßig. Durchaus energisch
21 Fantasie in C Major, Op. 17, III. Langsam getragen. Durchweg leise zu halten.
Mitsuko Uchida talks about Schumann
joy and sorrow are mingled
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Ancient Astronauts - Into Bass and Time
"Hard hip-hop, funky breakbeats, dub reggae, and late night smokers' trip-hop, Into Bass and Time brings it all."
Ancient Astronauts is a German hip-hop duo known for their futuristic approach to combining many different styles of beats and samples. It's not entirely instrumental, but when guest artists appear and such, the rapping is seriously top-notch. After just the first listen, I knew that this was one of the greatest albums of the year.
L7 - Smell the Magic
Smell the Magic is a really awesome piece of grunge/punk/angry girl rock. It is the second release by the LA-based grunge band L7, who also founded Rock for Choice, a pro-choice women's rights group supported by another favorite band of mine, 7 Year Bitch. Anyway, this is an incredibly heavy and abrasive album full of fast and furious angry girl music.
Organ - Apoplexy in Six Parts
Organ is "an experimental post-metal band from Oslo, Norway containing members of the black metal band (V.E.G.A.). The bands only release to date is Apoplexy In Six Parts." I personally enjoyed it very much, and strangely enough found some very Alcest-like moments among the experimental black metal multifariousness.
Apoplexy in Six Parts
01 Part I
02 Part II
03 Part III
04 Part IV
05 Part V
06 Part VI
Non-Intentional Devices
07-10 Untitled
Monday, December 12, 2011
Chokebore - Anything Near Water
Ungainly noise rock with some incredible Jandek-y vocals set against an emerging 'sadcore' backdrop. As I talked with a friend about the record, we both noticed a certain youthfulness that can be attributed to the vocals, provided by Troy von Balthazar - they are constantly cracking, yet in an attractive manner. This adds, quite well in fact, to the impreciseness of the music.
Chokebore was an indie rock band formed in Honolulu in the 90s that eventually moved to LA. Anything Near Water, the band's second full-length, is an aimless venture down a long, desolate road. Highly recommended for fans of early Nirvana and Idaho.
Kalevi Aho - Symphony No. 3 / Songs & Dances of Death (Mussorgsky)
Osmo Vänskä / Lahti Symphony Orchestra
Jaakko Kausisto, violin
Matti Salminen, bass
Kalevi Aho is a Finnish composer who studied under the great Einojuhani Rautavaara and composed his Symphony No. 3 for violin and orchestra between 1971 and 1973. Songs & Dances of Death is a song cycle by Russian composer Modest Mussorgsky, but here Kalevi Aho has orchestrated it into 4 songs for voice and piano.
I thank Cliff Skoog for bringing the work of this composer to my attention.
01 Symphony No. 3 (Sinfonia Concertante), I. Andante
02 Symphony No. 3 (Sinfonia Concertante), II. Prestissimo
03 Symphony No. 3 (Sinfonia Concertante), III. Lento
04 Symphony No. 3 (Sinfonia Concertante), IV. Presto
05 Songs & Dances of Death, I. Cradle Song
06 Songs & Dances of Death, II. Serenade
07 Songs & Dances of Death, III. Trepak
08 Songs & Dances of Death, IV. The Field Marshal
Shellac - Uranus
You should already know who Shellac is. Uranus is pure saturated fuzziness.
Hibernation: I just want to stay in bed for 3 days straight not taking showers and not moving. Eating a lot. Snuggled as warm as possible, to the point of becoming sweaty. Revolving around some distant planet, listening to these two tracks on repeat continuously.
Need New Body - U.F.O.
This is seriously an amazing album. Repetitively mind-numbing, yet beautiful. Complete randomness... glorified. You might want to call it spazzcore.
Need New Body was an avant-garde/experimental/jazz band from Philadelphia active during the early 00s, and U.F.O. is their second album. Enjoyyy.
EDIT: "Moondear" is probably my favorite track in the entire universe that is under 2:00. God daammnnn.
The Ocean Blue - Cerulean
Here we have the second album of American indie/dream pop band The Ocean Blue, from Pennsylvania.
Wikipedia states that the band's influences include The Smiths, Cocteau Twins, R.E.M., Echo & the Bunnymen and New Order. Not being familiar with any of those aside from the first two, I only have the authority to say that they do have a degree of Cocteau Twinsiness about them, in atmosphere at least (nothing will ever compare to the vocals of Elizabeth Fraser). Succulent, dreamlike pop. The tracks "Ballerina Out of Control" and "Marigold" are both quite lovely - The Chameleons without the British accent.
Mix. No. 13 - Confessions of an Ontographer
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
An Autumn for Crippled Children - Everything
Here is the second full-length by Dutch black metal/shoegaze band An Autumn For Crippled Children. It is ambitious in it's furthering of the "blackgaze" tag - a genre which obviously combines black metal (mostly of the depressive/doomy sort) and shoegaze. I, for one, am very interested in this combination, for both of those styles appeal to me. I like this release very much, especially the last three tracks. 2:12 on "Cold Spring" might be one of my favorite riffs in the entire black metal world.
Monday, December 5, 2011
Mew - A Triumph For Man (Re-issue, Disc 2)
This is the second disc of the 2006 re-issue of Danish rock band Mew's first ever release, A Triumph For Man. The original album was recorded and released in 1997, and this second disc, released on the re-issue as bonus material/acoustic/demos, was recorded in 1995-1996 in Copenhagen, Denmark. The reason I am putting up only the second disc of the re-issue (I uploaded the first disc here just in case you'd like to hear it as well) is because I am usually much more fond of demos than finished, polished pieces. I do love the album as it was released, but for some reason these 9 looks into the band's most intimate and vulnerable moments of songwriting and experimenting seem to say so much more to me than the rest do. For one, the songs are all incredibly beautiful. Sometimes Jonas Bjerre's voice is so soft you can barely make out the words, and sometimes you can hear background noise and other things that weren't meant to happen. It's just perfect, to me. This disc does not include demos or other versions of every single song on the original album, which has 14 tracks, but I believe that the loveliest ones are these on the second disc. Dreamy, pretty and addictive.
01 Studio Snippet #1
02 Say You're Sorry (ATFM Session)
03 Beautiful Balloon (Acoustic)
04 Web (Demo)
05 Chinese Gun (Demo)
06 Studio Snippet #2
07 I Should Have Been A Tsin-Tsi (For You) Demo
08 Wheels Over Me (Demo)
09 Superfriends (Demo)
Com.A - Shot of Love
Com.A is a Age Yoshida, a Japanese electronic/idm/glitch musician who began releasing tracks on compilations and remixes in 1998. Shot of Love is his third full-length out of four, along with several other EPs and singles.
"To me Com.A is one of the most interesting and advanced artists in current electronic music. His tracks are very well produced and complex and they reach an incredible intensity. In most cases Com.A is combining lots of different kinds of sounds and samples with phat and/or abstract beats that can be really catchy and hiphop-esque or completely weird and ultra cut-up as well. Other tunes surprise with much straighter beats and beautiful 8bit-style electro melodies or experimental ambiences... I don't want to downgrade this by categorizing it, but all in all I would call it some kind of strange and funky alien tech breakstep hop that should be recommended to every fan of sophisticated electronica like (for example) Eight Frozen Modules."
As I am not exactly a fan of sophisticated electronica (not because I don't want to be, I'm just not), that review seems to echo my own thoughts regarding Shot of Love. It is fast and furious but not without structure. A little "tough on the neurons," at times, but worth a listen.
...is my favorite song
Sunday, December 4, 2011
Steaming Coils - Breaded
This is the third full-length by the L.A. underground project Steaming Coils.
Breaded is an incredible array of songs and styles and atmospheres. It is invariably quirky and fun, but there is a sense of irresistible sophistication and classiness and worldliness that immediately attracted me to their sound.
"Hue and Cry Over Pink and Green with Almond Shade of Beige," as you can see from my last mix, is one of my favorite songs in the entire universe and I have been listening to it non-stop for the past 48 hours.
Friday, December 2, 2011
Mix No. 12 - Occoquan
Furry Things - The Big Saturday Illusion
This album is bees.
Furry Things was a shoegaze/noise pop founded by Kenneth James Gibson and Cathy Shive in 1992 who released a small number of albums and EPs throughout the 90s on the Trance Syndicate label (yay!).
I actually like what Last.fm has to say:
"Furry Things crafted the feedback-driven trance of The Big Saturday Illusion at the intersection of prog-rock, ambient music and acid jams. Its 'songs' were grotesque deconstructions of rock’n’roll that twitch under clouds of swirling drones."
Thursday, December 1, 2011
Men's Recovery Project - Bolides Over Basra
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
rachmaninoff, winter
Earlier I wrote about a guy in my class who has big hands, who taught me the opening chords to the second Rachmaninoff piano concerto. Welllll, I spent more time with him today, and I can't believe how much I learned from him, and on how many points our opinions coincide.
He asked me if I had learned the Rachmaninoff Prelude in C-sharp minor (an extremely popular and famous piece, you would recognize it if you heard it), and I told him I ran through it a few times and basically taught it to myself, but was never formally taught it. His eyes grew wide and he told me to play it for him! I was really shy, which was unusual because I can normally talk quite freely with him, but consented. The shyness came in part, I think, from the fact that I do not know this piece with the amount of familiarity required to play it well. Anyway, I started it, and he said, "No no no no NO!" and I giggled because I knew deep down that in no way had I played it in the way it should be played. He turned his back on me and told me to start again, over and over again, and came to the conclusion that I know what I want from the piece, and that I have the correct technique and everything, but I am not convinced of myself. He told me that, as a performer, you should maintain a degree of narcissism and a "diva"-like attitude. I knew this was true, but it is hard for me. I never like to show off, but I do like to be in control when I play...
He then told me to play the first three notes as if they were the very end of a long concerto - as if I had been playing for 45 minutes and these were THE FINAL NOTES, the final triumphant bells, dying away in the distance, and they should be played as such. The next three chords were like a memory, or as he put it, a ghost of a memory that is slowly coming forth from the depths of consciousness into clarity. I was in awe of such an intense interpretation of a piece he had never even played, much less looked at. It was like he truly understood where the music was coming from, and what it was saying! He told me that after I played the first A's, I played the G-sharp's "apologetically"... as if I was sorry for playing the A's so loudly, or something. I told him it was because I was nervous with him in the room, but I knew that it was true, I am scared to let myself go and play with all of the force my body can create. I KNOW how to play an A in each hand, but those first notes might be the most complicated out of the whole piece.
I think the most important thing I learned from him was that I shouldn't be constrained to copying what others have deemed as perfection. Every time something is played, it is played differently. Nothing is ever copied, there are no repetitions. As such, it is my job to tell the audience the story - a story they have never heard before! They have heard versions of it, but I have the glorious privilege of revealing my own version of the story, as loudly, boldly, and heartfelt as I want. No one can stop me. I can create my own version of perfection, can't I? The music is about the music, not about me - I want to feel it flowing through my veins, I want it to be me. It is not so easy, shedding your earthly body, sitting at the piano in front of so many other bodies, and simply letting the music take it's course. If you know the piece well, the last thing on your mind should be notes. My friend even told me "No one cares about the notes. Don't worry so much about them." I giggled again (I tend to do that, ugh), saying that I do worry too much about making everything perfect, perfect like everyone is used to, which leads to pressure, etc. But that is soooo wrong, as I've now realized.
I feel liberated, almost. I have a job to carry out, and I know exactly what it is. Making mistakes is, I don't know, an elementary or juvenile thing to worry about. What I should truly be focusing on is the way with which I play the piece, and tell the story. I want my whole body to be engaged, my entire soul full of the emotions and the story and the pure sounds in the air. I don't even feel vulnerable at all, saying this... it's the truth.
~
I'm studying, eating pink grapefruit jellybeans and listening to Have A Nice Life. Just yesterday it was raining very gently outside, around 9 PM, and the sky was a light grayish black color - I walked back from the music building listening to "I Don't Love" with my eyes on the moon the whole time. I noticed that I walk looking up a lot. You know in the winter how the very air seems to hum with the chilliness? It's like there is always the distant sounds of trains, or traffic, or something. I don't know. In winter I always feel like the sounds of the world are amplified when you are outside, at night. It's an intensely quiet but overwhelming sound. I love it.
I remember about two winters ago when I was first getting into music and Last.fm and whatever, I was obsessed with three bands - Empyrium, Alcest, and Dornenreich. Dornenreich and Empyrium especially, because at the time Alcest only had Souvenirs out and that is not a very wintry album. I really wanted to have a black trench coat and a snow white iPod so that while waiting outside after school for my mom to pick me up I could listen to, I don't know, Hexenwind through those cool elitist white earbuds, and tuck them into my black coat. I wanted to be dark and mysterious and grim, I suppose. Listening to HANL yesterday evening in the chilly winter rain with my black coat and butterfly-covered umbrella, I felt like I had definitely achieved my goal. I was happy.
About one winter ago I listened to Tim Hecker & Aidan Baker's Fantasma-Parastasie, Popol Vuh's Nosferatu and Korouva's "Bloodsuckers" a lot. I imagined I saw lost souls peeking through the light gray winter clouds, which moved fast across the night sky, and I called out to them. Here is a picture of Korouva, and I think it quite accurately describes my thoughts during the winter.
Every winter it is something new... a new artist, a new sadness. A new thought to cling to, a new hope for the future. A new style, a new smell. A new world of possibilities, regrets, dreams. Visions. Colors and images and worlds. I suppose what I am trying to say is don't let the winter pass you by. Let it leave a mark on you.
He asked me if I had learned the Rachmaninoff Prelude in C-sharp minor (an extremely popular and famous piece, you would recognize it if you heard it), and I told him I ran through it a few times and basically taught it to myself, but was never formally taught it. His eyes grew wide and he told me to play it for him! I was really shy, which was unusual because I can normally talk quite freely with him, but consented. The shyness came in part, I think, from the fact that I do not know this piece with the amount of familiarity required to play it well. Anyway, I started it, and he said, "No no no no NO!" and I giggled because I knew deep down that in no way had I played it in the way it should be played. He turned his back on me and told me to start again, over and over again, and came to the conclusion that I know what I want from the piece, and that I have the correct technique and everything, but I am not convinced of myself. He told me that, as a performer, you should maintain a degree of narcissism and a "diva"-like attitude. I knew this was true, but it is hard for me. I never like to show off, but I do like to be in control when I play...
He then told me to play the first three notes as if they were the very end of a long concerto - as if I had been playing for 45 minutes and these were THE FINAL NOTES, the final triumphant bells, dying away in the distance, and they should be played as such. The next three chords were like a memory, or as he put it, a ghost of a memory that is slowly coming forth from the depths of consciousness into clarity. I was in awe of such an intense interpretation of a piece he had never even played, much less looked at. It was like he truly understood where the music was coming from, and what it was saying! He told me that after I played the first A's, I played the G-sharp's "apologetically"... as if I was sorry for playing the A's so loudly, or something. I told him it was because I was nervous with him in the room, but I knew that it was true, I am scared to let myself go and play with all of the force my body can create. I KNOW how to play an A in each hand, but those first notes might be the most complicated out of the whole piece.
I think the most important thing I learned from him was that I shouldn't be constrained to copying what others have deemed as perfection. Every time something is played, it is played differently. Nothing is ever copied, there are no repetitions. As such, it is my job to tell the audience the story - a story they have never heard before! They have heard versions of it, but I have the glorious privilege of revealing my own version of the story, as loudly, boldly, and heartfelt as I want. No one can stop me. I can create my own version of perfection, can't I? The music is about the music, not about me - I want to feel it flowing through my veins, I want it to be me. It is not so easy, shedding your earthly body, sitting at the piano in front of so many other bodies, and simply letting the music take it's course. If you know the piece well, the last thing on your mind should be notes. My friend even told me "No one cares about the notes. Don't worry so much about them." I giggled again (I tend to do that, ugh), saying that I do worry too much about making everything perfect, perfect like everyone is used to, which leads to pressure, etc. But that is soooo wrong, as I've now realized.
I feel liberated, almost. I have a job to carry out, and I know exactly what it is. Making mistakes is, I don't know, an elementary or juvenile thing to worry about. What I should truly be focusing on is the way with which I play the piece, and tell the story. I want my whole body to be engaged, my entire soul full of the emotions and the story and the pure sounds in the air. I don't even feel vulnerable at all, saying this... it's the truth.
~
I'm studying, eating pink grapefruit jellybeans and listening to Have A Nice Life. Just yesterday it was raining very gently outside, around 9 PM, and the sky was a light grayish black color - I walked back from the music building listening to "I Don't Love" with my eyes on the moon the whole time. I noticed that I walk looking up a lot. You know in the winter how the very air seems to hum with the chilliness? It's like there is always the distant sounds of trains, or traffic, or something. I don't know. In winter I always feel like the sounds of the world are amplified when you are outside, at night. It's an intensely quiet but overwhelming sound. I love it.
I remember about two winters ago when I was first getting into music and Last.fm and whatever, I was obsessed with three bands - Empyrium, Alcest, and Dornenreich. Dornenreich and Empyrium especially, because at the time Alcest only had Souvenirs out and that is not a very wintry album. I really wanted to have a black trench coat and a snow white iPod so that while waiting outside after school for my mom to pick me up I could listen to, I don't know, Hexenwind through those cool elitist white earbuds, and tuck them into my black coat. I wanted to be dark and mysterious and grim, I suppose. Listening to HANL yesterday evening in the chilly winter rain with my black coat and butterfly-covered umbrella, I felt like I had definitely achieved my goal. I was happy.
About one winter ago I listened to Tim Hecker & Aidan Baker's Fantasma-Parastasie, Popol Vuh's Nosferatu and Korouva's "Bloodsuckers" a lot. I imagined I saw lost souls peeking through the light gray winter clouds, which moved fast across the night sky, and I called out to them. Here is a picture of Korouva, and I think it quite accurately describes my thoughts during the winter.
Every winter it is something new... a new artist, a new sadness. A new thought to cling to, a new hope for the future. A new style, a new smell. A new world of possibilities, regrets, dreams. Visions. Colors and images and worlds. I suppose what I am trying to say is don't let the winter pass you by. Let it leave a mark on you.
Ballaké Sissoko & Vincent Segal - Chamber Music
Here is an excellent example of Western and Eastern styles of music blending to create a wholly unique and wonderful sound. Ballaké Sissoko is a noted Malinese player of the kora, which is a magical (not REALLY, but it sounds like it) West African harp producing a sound akin to plucking piano or violin strings. He was born into the griot caste, and it was traditional for him to learn how to play the kora at a young age. Vincent Segal, on the other hand, is a French cellist who grew up learning his instrument at the conservatory. The two create otherworldly-sounding pieces where the souls of the two instruments dance as if they were created to only be played together. Both performers are extremely connected with the music they perform, and this connection brings about only the most true of listening experiences.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Rat At Rat R - Rat At Rat R
Rat At Rat R was a noise rock quartet formed in the early 80s by Victor Poison-tete. After moving from Philadelphia into New York, they quickly became a major part of the underground NYC scene alongside bands like Sonic Youth and Swans. Rat At Rat R was the group's third and final release, and it is full of noisy, artsy, Swans-y no-wavey greatness.
Monday, November 28, 2011
Kylie Minoise - Psychedelic Satanism! EP
Kylie Minoise is the solo project of Lea Cummings, an English noise artist currently residing in Glasgow. Psychedelic Satanism!, while not his first release, is his first EP. The first 6 tracks are all under 2 minutes in length, while the final track is nearly 7 minutes. Truthfully, the last track, titled simply "!," is one of the most gorgeous noise tracks to ever be composed.
!!!!!!!
!!!!!!
!!!!!
!!!!
!!!
!!
!
Satan's Pilgrims - Psychsploitation
Fun and groovy psychedelic rock - from the future! Well, it was released 2 years ago, but I think it sounds rather futuristic. Anyway, I don't know how you could not like this. Satan's Pilgrims, a band formed in Portland, Oregon in the early 90s, made instrumental surf rock blend with psychedelia to dazzling effect. According to Last.fm (a very trustworthy source in regards to music, let me tell you):
"The Pilgrims are one of the most influential surf and instrumental bands of the 90s. While much of their sound has a definite Southern California influence, what sets them apart is the legacy of their Pacific Northwest rock 'n roll ancestors: The Ventures, The Wailers, The Sonics and The Kingsmen."
This strikes me as interesting because I actually used to be completely obsessed with The Ventures. They were one of the only bands my dad listened to that I really liked, honestly. They also played instrumental surf rock, along with covers of tons of songs, such as the James Bond and Batman themes. Satan's Pilgrims is slightly different than them, though, because they have a definite psychedelic edge to their tracks, and with a name like Satan's Pilgrims you might even find yourself listening to this in a smoky room of druggies, surfers, and fortune tellers.
Favorite track: "Wylde Tymes." Makes me want to dance.
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Manuel de Falla - Complete Piano Music
Benita Meshulam, pianist
Manuel de Falla was a Spanish composer of classical music. This collection of his complete piano pieces, played by Benita Meshulam, is truly incredible.
Disc 1
01 El Sombrero de Tres Picos, I. Danza del Molinero
02 El Sombrero de Tres Picos, II. Danza de la Molinera
03 El Sombrero de Tres Picos, III. Danza de los Vecinos
04 Danza de la Vida Breve
05 Homenaje de Claude Debussy
06 Serenata
07 Mazurka
08 Serenata Andaluza
09 Nocturno
10 Cancion
11 Fantasia Baetica
Disc 2
01 Cuatro Piezas Españolas, I. Aragonesa
02 Cuatro Piezas Españolas, II. Cubana
03 Cuatro Piezas Españolas, III. Montanesa
04 Cuatro Piezas Españolas, IV. Andaluza
05 Ritual Fire Dance (from El Amor Brujo)
06 Cortejo de Gnomos
07 Vals vapricho
08 Allegro de concierto
09 Canto de los remeros del Volga
10 Pour le tombeau de Paul Dukas
Disc 2
Elevator to Hell - Parts 1-3
I love the album Purple Blue by Eric's Trip (which I might be posting in the near future), and Elevator to Hell was a sort of solo project for Rick White, of Eric's Trip.
Elevator to Hell was a Canadian lo-fi/indie rock project active during the later 90s through the 00s. Parts 1-3 is a combination of the band's first release, a self-titled album, and a mini-LP entitled Part 3. It is absolutely amazing - one of the greatest things I've come across in a while. Every single song is great.
"Haunting lo-fi psychedelia."
i found a cat at my feet
and when i asked it it's name
the cat said hooray,
you're what i needed today
n.b. they have a song entitled "Why I Didn't Like August 93," which is one of my favorites on here, but I am mad that they didn't like August of 93 because that's when I was born! >:(
Saturday, November 26, 2011
Friday, November 25, 2011
Gorge Trio - Open Mouth, O' Wisp
Two words I might use to describe Gorge Trio, an instrumental band from New England: seemingly aimless.
"With Open Mouth, O' Wisp, the group moves from the broad strokes of the past to a series of densely packed miniatures, all 22 of which clock in at a running time that just breaks the half-hour mark. There have always been Russian egg constructs within their previous lengthy jams, but here some of the layers are given markers, allowing listeners to step into the fractured crossfire as well as enjoy this as a well-constructed whole. The more constructed pieces here, like 'Intimate Addition,' recall the Gorge Trio's other incarnation as Colossamite stripped of the heavy rock gestures (screaming vocals and two volumes: loud and louder) that aligned that group with the math rock of Don Caballero, placing the trio closer to the source, Captain Beefheart. There are other moments worth calling out, too, like guest Keiko Beers' flute turn on 'Invisible Student,' but they all amount to points on a very busy map that begs to be taken in as a whole. And the whole is quite marvelous, an epic in miniature that encourages repeated listening."
"It's not easy music, but it's also not difficult to like. It fulfills the ears you didn't know you had, shaking a brainstem in its ozone with an ether fiddle. Every note seems compressed to the last degree and scratchy pitches burst forth like mercury through steel wool, scattering about a Donald Judd surface of maximum refraction. It's darned near impossible."
Milkmine - Braille
I love this album so much - even as the only release by the quite obscure Cincinnati-based noise rock band Milkmine, Braille could easily be one of the greatest noise rock gems of the 90s. From what I've read, they consist of two bassists and one drummer. There is so much noisy and sludgy fuzziness to enjoy here, so, enjoy. Highlights, aka songs that either made me break down and cry or want to scream: "Snapshot" and "An Evening Gown."
Big Black - Songs About Fucking
I feel a little behind, but even if I found out how incredible Songs About Fucking is today or in 500 years the effect would still be the same: this is incredible.
Big Black was a noise rock/post-punk band from Illinois founded in the early 80s by guitarist/vocalist/lyricist Steve Albini, who you might also know from Shellac (I suggest reading more about their background here). Along with his work with his bands, Albini has also engineered hundreds of albums and recording projects, all of which are top-notch releases - check out the full list here. It is clear why so many people see him as the father of the independent noise and post-punk scenes.
It is a very brutal album, surely, but Songs About Fucking is essential listening.
Thursday, November 24, 2011
Klaus Doldinger & Giorgio Moroder - The Neverending Story OST
Empyrium - Songs of Moors & Misty Fields + Weiland
This is a very personal band to me, mostly because of how long I listened solely to them and how they were one of the very first bands to actually inspire me. Empyrium was a German neo-folk/doom metal band founded by Markus Stock (Ulf Theodor Schwadorf) active through the mid to later 90s and early 2000s. More recently they released a new track on the 2010 Prophecy Productions compilation Whom the Moon a Nightsong Sings.
These two albums, Songs of Moors & Misty Fields and Weiland, are, in my opinion, the band's most wondrous releases. I do enjoy the rest of their discography, which includes four other full-lengths, one of which was self-released, and an EP, but I have listened to these two countless times in the depths of night, the depths of winter, when I was just coming to know how amazing music can be. Songs of Moors & Misty Fields is, quite simply, a masterpiece of doom metal and neo-folk. Weiland, also, is pure acoustic neo-folk and seems to have been recorded within the heart of a magical forest. I just wanted to post these as the year is coming to an end, but my love for this band will never fade.
Monday, November 21, 2011
Mix No. 11 - Moons In Her Eyes
Friday, November 18, 2011
Madredeus - Um Amor Infinito
Madredeus is a Portugese band who combines traditional Portugese music with modern folk and neo-classical. They have been making music since the late 80s, but this is one of their newer albums. Un Amor Infinito actually reminds me a lot of neo-folk music I used to be really into, like Empyrium, Vàli, Forseti, etc. The primary instruments used are the classical guitar, cello, and keyboard synthesizer. I've had this album for a while, but I thought I'd share it because I love it.
Savage Republic - Customs
Savage Republic was a tribal/noise rock/experimental/post-punk band hailing from the 80s L.A. underground scene. Their sound is a mixture of many elements - psychedelic drones, middle-eastern cantillation and tribal rhythms. Influences include Einstürzende Neubauten, Joy Division, Sonic Youth, Throbbing Gristle, and others. Customs, their last album before splitting then getting back together with a different line-up, can accurately be considered a masterpiece.
I know that much, much more could be said about Savage Republic, and I find myself wanting to go through their entire discography (which is quite large), but standing alone Customs is a terrific album.
"Their brand of ritualistically tribal exhibitions blurred the boundaries of post-punk and industrial music. Their music incorporates minimalist bass rumbles, exotic and/or militaristic drumming, Arabic melodies, primal chants and even a bit of surf guitar."
Blue Daisy & Anneka - Raindrops EP
Thursday, November 17, 2011
lost, lungfish, music
Someone please enlighten me.
Hand to me, for instance, something that might inspire me to entirely re-create myself and my artistic vision.
I want to be an artist - I want to use my thoughts, as jumbled as they are, and put them to use. I know I have something to offer the world, or at least something to offer myself. I can feel deep inside something wanting to be said and expressed. I don't want to think too much about it, I've found that thinking more often than not solves nothing in these kinds of situations. The best thing would be to not think, but that leaves me at a loss of what to do next. Maybe being a pianist can be considered as being an artist, but I could never compare myself to, say, a visual artist, or even a composer.
The most I am is a messenger. But what particles of art are there to be found in one who spends their time conveying messages? I want to know. Should I not strive to be an artist, but rather some prophet who has dedicated an entire lifetime to painting someone else's canvas, writing someone else's novel, or even sculpting someone else's self portrait? I willingly give up my own self to convey another's self. Am I looking at this wrong? Is there even a right way to look at it, though? I can fall in love with the painting, the novel, the self, but in the end, it is not mine. I can make you see it through allie-colored glasses, I can make you hear it through my ears, feel it through my fingers and understand it through my understanding, but it is not mine. It is a warped view of someone else's creation. Who knows. Maybe their creation really wasn't that great to start with. But in most cases, their life works have been told by many different messengers in many different ways. There are even others, though I'm not sure under which category these prideful few may be put, who dedicate their entire lives to critiquing and judging from afar these varied, multi-colored interpretations of human passions.
This is not only the pianist's dilemma. Any performer who performs material that wasn't self-conceived gives themselves up to another. I don't want to be that anymore. I can appreciate Brahms, Ravel, Shostakovich, Chopin and others all I want, and they may have even dedicated their lives to putting their selves into things that can be taken and used for countless desires of a crowd of anonymous messengers, but I feel like I would be undermining my own worth by living a life in the footsteps of those I used to look up to. I'm still young, I know, and it's possible that life holds so much for me, yet. I can discover something about myself tomorrow that may change the course of my life forever. Virtually anything can happen. But in thinking of the path of my life, I see it going in the direction of... To put it plainly, something I don't want for myself.
I spent two hours today playing the piano non-stop. Not in the way that you might imagine, either. I wasn't really practicing. I "practiced" plenty yesterday, and by that I mean I played through all of my pieces one by one, countless times, until I felt like nothing more could be done that day on them in terms of improvement.
No, today I played notes... an endless series of disconnected notes, leading to nowhere, ending at a place far more lost and hopeless than I ever intended for them to go. I felt like weeping. I want to say that music has failed me, but I know that that would be a lie. I have failed music. Or at least it feels that way.
This may seem depressing, perhaps even overly so, but I haven't yet lost all hope. I am not necessarily giving up. I am, instead, forcing myself to view my situation, my talent, my path in a different way. And who better to lead me in the right direction but the visual, poetic, and musical artist Daniel Higgs? If you haven't heard of him, he is the mind behind one of my favorite musical ensembles - Lungfish. I will attempt to describe some of his ideas on this.
Music is always unfolding. In the words of an old Native American proverb, "The music never stops; it is we who walk away." So, if it always occurring, then it is not only the performer who channels it, but also the artist. The composer, the brain behind it all. Perhaps music cannot even be grasped, or if it can, that hold is only temporary. Music is like an unknown, omnipresent being we reach out to - "It is still a mystery to me as to how and where music is coming from" (Higgs). We take hold of it, attempt to control it and make it ours, then tell ourselves that it was born in our minds. How can this be true? After we die, the music lives on. It does not die with us. It lives forever. It might have even existed, in whatever form, before the concept of "time" began. Music transcends notes, staves, voices, instruments, guidelines, technology, and even history. Music, in the purest sense, is the formless shadow that existed in our minds, in the earth, and in the universe far before conceptual thought. Once we discovered it for the very first time, the pure glory of it, we wanted it to be ours, and we wanted to be able to call it ours.
Where does this tie in to anything? As a pianist, I must realize that I am also part of the audience. I may know the notes that I am to be playing, but those mean nothing compared to the vastness of the entity that is Music. What unfolds to the audience is what unfolds to me. I place my fingers at the keyboard, straighten up and think hard, and in this process I am actually contacting Music. Imagine an endless stream of colors, long thin threads of them that have no end, dangling eternally above the heads of the masses of people in the world. These colorful threads represent Music, a stream flowing soundlessly (it has sound, but maybe in it's true form we, as human beings, do not have the ability to hear it) towards an unknown point. I contact it. I grab a handful of threads and yank it down so that I have it in my hands. It is stained with the fingerprints of thousands of other people who have touched these very same threads, and finally, with the very prints of he who first conceived it. The one who first arranged this particular section of Music after his own heart. I grab it and I let it unfold in the way that only it can. I stand back and watch this magnificent revealing take place with the same amount of awe that those in the audience are, if there is an audience.
The special thing about this is that there is the incredible potentiality - meaning that it doesn't always happen this way - for the both the performer and the audience members to have an intense, private, and solitary experience with the Music being heard by all. This forms a dynamic of group solitude, with the sounds of music being a sort of psychic foundation. A framework in the air that we can feel, however briefly, and is then stamped into our minds forever.
When I look at music in this way, I feel a little better. I feel part of something greater than this endless competition to be the best messenger, the best pianist, the best conveyor of audial invisibility. Music is and never should be contained in such a small frame of mind.
Here is one of my favorite Lungfish songs, "Hear the Children Sing," off of the album Love is Love. Higgs has also stated that the repeated patterns many often say they hear in Lungfish's music aren't really patterns at all. It is impossible to repeat something infallibly, and each time something is repeated it is going to be different. This refers back to the idea of the performer being a member of the audience, and how that makes the audience a performer as well. The audience's perception of the repetitious nature of Lungfish's music is a testament to the experience they have while listening - whether it was intended or not, the fact is they responded to the music in such a way that they were able to interpret it into something they could understand and appreciate. That is how Lungfish works. You hear it, you think about it, and you just accept things as they really are. It is not as easy as it sounds.
You are the unknown in which we must trust.
Hand to me, for instance, something that might inspire me to entirely re-create myself and my artistic vision.
I want to be an artist - I want to use my thoughts, as jumbled as they are, and put them to use. I know I have something to offer the world, or at least something to offer myself. I can feel deep inside something wanting to be said and expressed. I don't want to think too much about it, I've found that thinking more often than not solves nothing in these kinds of situations. The best thing would be to not think, but that leaves me at a loss of what to do next. Maybe being a pianist can be considered as being an artist, but I could never compare myself to, say, a visual artist, or even a composer.
The most I am is a messenger. But what particles of art are there to be found in one who spends their time conveying messages? I want to know. Should I not strive to be an artist, but rather some prophet who has dedicated an entire lifetime to painting someone else's canvas, writing someone else's novel, or even sculpting someone else's self portrait? I willingly give up my own self to convey another's self. Am I looking at this wrong? Is there even a right way to look at it, though? I can fall in love with the painting, the novel, the self, but in the end, it is not mine. I can make you see it through allie-colored glasses, I can make you hear it through my ears, feel it through my fingers and understand it through my understanding, but it is not mine. It is a warped view of someone else's creation. Who knows. Maybe their creation really wasn't that great to start with. But in most cases, their life works have been told by many different messengers in many different ways. There are even others, though I'm not sure under which category these prideful few may be put, who dedicate their entire lives to critiquing and judging from afar these varied, multi-colored interpretations of human passions.
This is not only the pianist's dilemma. Any performer who performs material that wasn't self-conceived gives themselves up to another. I don't want to be that anymore. I can appreciate Brahms, Ravel, Shostakovich, Chopin and others all I want, and they may have even dedicated their lives to putting their selves into things that can be taken and used for countless desires of a crowd of anonymous messengers, but I feel like I would be undermining my own worth by living a life in the footsteps of those I used to look up to. I'm still young, I know, and it's possible that life holds so much for me, yet. I can discover something about myself tomorrow that may change the course of my life forever. Virtually anything can happen. But in thinking of the path of my life, I see it going in the direction of... To put it plainly, something I don't want for myself.
I spent two hours today playing the piano non-stop. Not in the way that you might imagine, either. I wasn't really practicing. I "practiced" plenty yesterday, and by that I mean I played through all of my pieces one by one, countless times, until I felt like nothing more could be done that day on them in terms of improvement.
No, today I played notes... an endless series of disconnected notes, leading to nowhere, ending at a place far more lost and hopeless than I ever intended for them to go. I felt like weeping. I want to say that music has failed me, but I know that that would be a lie. I have failed music. Or at least it feels that way.
This may seem depressing, perhaps even overly so, but I haven't yet lost all hope. I am not necessarily giving up. I am, instead, forcing myself to view my situation, my talent, my path in a different way. And who better to lead me in the right direction but the visual, poetic, and musical artist Daniel Higgs? If you haven't heard of him, he is the mind behind one of my favorite musical ensembles - Lungfish. I will attempt to describe some of his ideas on this.
Music is always unfolding. In the words of an old Native American proverb, "The music never stops; it is we who walk away." So, if it always occurring, then it is not only the performer who channels it, but also the artist. The composer, the brain behind it all. Perhaps music cannot even be grasped, or if it can, that hold is only temporary. Music is like an unknown, omnipresent being we reach out to - "It is still a mystery to me as to how and where music is coming from" (Higgs). We take hold of it, attempt to control it and make it ours, then tell ourselves that it was born in our minds. How can this be true? After we die, the music lives on. It does not die with us. It lives forever. It might have even existed, in whatever form, before the concept of "time" began. Music transcends notes, staves, voices, instruments, guidelines, technology, and even history. Music, in the purest sense, is the formless shadow that existed in our minds, in the earth, and in the universe far before conceptual thought. Once we discovered it for the very first time, the pure glory of it, we wanted it to be ours, and we wanted to be able to call it ours.
Where does this tie in to anything? As a pianist, I must realize that I am also part of the audience. I may know the notes that I am to be playing, but those mean nothing compared to the vastness of the entity that is Music. What unfolds to the audience is what unfolds to me. I place my fingers at the keyboard, straighten up and think hard, and in this process I am actually contacting Music. Imagine an endless stream of colors, long thin threads of them that have no end, dangling eternally above the heads of the masses of people in the world. These colorful threads represent Music, a stream flowing soundlessly (it has sound, but maybe in it's true form we, as human beings, do not have the ability to hear it) towards an unknown point. I contact it. I grab a handful of threads and yank it down so that I have it in my hands. It is stained with the fingerprints of thousands of other people who have touched these very same threads, and finally, with the very prints of he who first conceived it. The one who first arranged this particular section of Music after his own heart. I grab it and I let it unfold in the way that only it can. I stand back and watch this magnificent revealing take place with the same amount of awe that those in the audience are, if there is an audience.
The special thing about this is that there is the incredible potentiality - meaning that it doesn't always happen this way - for the both the performer and the audience members to have an intense, private, and solitary experience with the Music being heard by all. This forms a dynamic of group solitude, with the sounds of music being a sort of psychic foundation. A framework in the air that we can feel, however briefly, and is then stamped into our minds forever.
When I look at music in this way, I feel a little better. I feel part of something greater than this endless competition to be the best messenger, the best pianist, the best conveyor of audial invisibility. Music is and never should be contained in such a small frame of mind.
Here is one of my favorite Lungfish songs, "Hear the Children Sing," off of the album Love is Love. Higgs has also stated that the repeated patterns many often say they hear in Lungfish's music aren't really patterns at all. It is impossible to repeat something infallibly, and each time something is repeated it is going to be different. This refers back to the idea of the performer being a member of the audience, and how that makes the audience a performer as well. The audience's perception of the repetitious nature of Lungfish's music is a testament to the experience they have while listening - whether it was intended or not, the fact is they responded to the music in such a way that they were able to interpret it into something they could understand and appreciate. That is how Lungfish works. You hear it, you think about it, and you just accept things as they really are. It is not as easy as it sounds.
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Monday, November 14, 2011
Polvo - Cor-Crane Secret
I am so in love with this album. It is so alive - pulsing, breathing, ever-changing. As you listen, you will get a sense of what I mean.
The first release by the NC-based noise/math rock band (personally I think they transcend mere "math rock") Polvo, Cor-Crane Secret is a treasure trove of wonderful things. They do everything right, but the rhythm changes are so unpredictable you may as well give up on following along (when "Kalgon" is first getting started it could go in a variety of directions, but it builds up to an incredible stop-and-start melodic pattern that is really astounding) - but I think that might be what draws me so much to Polvo's sound. The unpredictability, the impreciseness, the layers upon layers of musical ideas and approaches, they all add up to one beast of a debut release. I love the song names, too: "Vibracobra," "Ox Scapula," "The Curtain Remembers." I really, really recommend this.
Saturday, November 12, 2011
I just updated my Coil post - added a few new things, switched some links, etc. There is so much stuff out there.
I've been listening to a lot of Coil and Pogo.
Found out about a bunch of new bands to give my attention to: Asteroid Galaxy Tour, Soft Kill, The Ocean Blue, Wrangler Brutes, Ed Hall, Chokebore, Eggs, Love Battery, Big Black, Troy von Balthazar, Icky Boyfriends, Elevator to Hell, Need New Body.
My lips taste like grapefruit.
It's still a mystery to me as to where music is coming from.
I've been listening to a lot of Coil and Pogo.
Found out about a bunch of new bands to give my attention to: Asteroid Galaxy Tour, Soft Kill, The Ocean Blue, Wrangler Brutes, Ed Hall, Chokebore, Eggs, Love Battery, Big Black, Troy von Balthazar, Icky Boyfriends, Elevator to Hell, Need New Body.
My lips taste like grapefruit.
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Dead Elephant - Lowest Shared Descent
It is slightly difficult for me to describe this, but I will try. Dead Elephant is an Italian group specializing in vicious noise rock-infused post-hardcore. You might like them if you like Cherubs, or Neurosis, but I have never before heard something quite like it.
Psychedelic and sludgy, sometimes incorporating elements of noise rock, black metal, post-hardcore, doom jazz ("Post Crucifixion"), and even industrial, Lowest Shared Descent really does stand apart from the rest. "Black Coffee Breakfast" is a highlight, the melodic lines particularly captivating (and preeetttyy).
Monday, November 7, 2011
Edvard Grieg - Cello Concerto & 8 Songs for Cello and Orchestra
Vernon Handley / London Philharmonic Orchestra
Raphael Wallfisch, cellist
01 Sonata for cello & piano in A Minor, Op 36, I. Allegro Agitato (1883)
02 Sonata for cello & piano in A Minor, Op 36, II. Andante molto tranquillo
03 Sonata for cello & piano in A Minor, Op 36, III. Introduzione - Allegro
04 Elegiac Melodies, Op. 34, No. 1, The Last Spring
05 Elegiac Melodies, Op. 34, No. 2, The Wounded Heart
06 Peer Gynt Suite No. 2 for orchestra, Op 55, No. 4, Solvieg's Song
07 Peer Gynt Suite No. 2 for orchestra, Op 55, No. 1, Ingrid's Lament
08 Melodies for string orchestra, Op 53, No. 1, The first meeting
09 Melodies for string orchestra, Op 53, No. 2, Norwegian
10 Melodies of the Heart for voice & piano, Op. 5, No. 3, Jeg elsker Dig (I Love but Thee)
11 Lyric Pieces for piano, Book 3, Op. 43: No. 6, To Spring
Sunday, November 6, 2011
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