Saturday, December 17, 2011
Beguile Me
Billie whispers in my quivering ear
secrets from the Soundwave Stratosphere
Pulsating angst through my black veins
I glide along her
icy
path
and pick the dimmest stars from
ancient constellations
put them in my dusty pockets
and conceive of
New Formations
and the expanding Sky
he beguiles me
and winks at me
as shafts of starlight
dance with speckled dust
and inhabit my
Decomposing Heart
-November 2011
secrets from the Soundwave Stratosphere
Pulsating angst through my black veins
I glide along her
icy
path
and pick the dimmest stars from
ancient constellations
put them in my dusty pockets
and conceive of
New Formations
and the expanding Sky
he beguiles me
and winks at me
as shafts of starlight
dance with speckled dust
and inhabit my
Decomposing Heart
-November 2011
Races -Big Broom
I saw Races play at The Echo in Silverlake last week. I was immediately enraptured. They opened up for Caveman and their musical dynamism was irrefutable. The harmonics actually resemble Caveman if you dig swooning undulating vocals. Enjoy.
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Two Wounded Birds - Summer Dream
If you like the The Drums, The Beach Boys, Jan and Dean...you will adore this band...Not only was the lead singer Jon Pierce courted by The Drums but Brian Wilson lauded Jon for his melodic ability.
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Saturday, December 3, 2011
Friday, December 2, 2011
Thursday, December 1, 2011
Saturday, November 12, 2011
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Blue Spirit Blues (Bessie Smith, 1929) Jazz Legend
Boil yourselves some scorching hot chocolate until it's brimming with wintery warmth, light an immemorial flame in your cavernous recess where your soul comes to rest at night, and listen to the pitter-patter of the deluge of tears free falling by your window.
Marcy's Song-John Hawkes
Albeit, the original song is by Jackson C. Frank, John Hawke's version is thoroughly more slow-tempo and the phrasing is much easier on the ears. If you haven't seen "Martha Marcy May Marlene" (the film that utilizes this rendition) you must watch it NOW. The film is just as cerebral and haunting as the song.
Saturday, October 29, 2011
Monday, October 24, 2011
Monday, October 17, 2011
Sunday, October 16, 2011
Friday, October 14, 2011
Monday, October 10, 2011
Saturday, October 8, 2011
Friday, October 7, 2011
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Monday, October 3, 2011
twilight
Saturday, October 1, 2011
we pay a high price
This is the price we pay
for scavenging through the devil's pocket
rife with soot and lint and malice
I'm through forewarning, go on, have it
Have it all, submerge yourselves
Have it all, the deceit, the wealth
But deals with the devil
don't come around too often
and his insidious charm?
Proceed with caution
The fetid scent of artifice transmutes itself
into raging creatures of the night
And if the sleep of reason produces Goya's monsters
I must admonish you, prepare yourselves for an apocalyptic fight
for scavenging through the devil's pocket
rife with soot and lint and malice
I'm through forewarning, go on, have it
Have it all, submerge yourselves
Have it all, the deceit, the wealth
But deals with the devil
don't come around too often
and his insidious charm?
Proceed with caution
The fetid scent of artifice transmutes itself
into raging creatures of the night
And if the sleep of reason produces Goya's monsters
I must admonish you, prepare yourselves for an apocalyptic fight
the pure state of mind
Dara Scully
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Vanquish
I see you perusing epigrams of ancient heroes
They're peopling your heart
Oh they're peopling your mind
And your solitude is recluse
You were forsaken, I see your bruise
It's emblazoned on your chest
It's emblazoned on your arms
And your poor mama's greed
What she sows, she shall also reap
She's heading for that door
She's heading for before
That kerosene lantern
With its diffused immemorial glow
I say, "shine that light on that there trollop"
"Shine that light, off with her bodice"
"My dear boy," she bellows, implores
"Extinguish the flame, for I can't bear anymore"
And so the thespian whimpers, in all her mawkish fragility
"Stare into the eyes of the product of your womb...
in all his glaring immortality!"
Ruptured voices now shake the room
Distant Fathers, Daniel Boone
"Vanquish all the solipsists
vanquish or they will persist"
The earth continues on its rotational axis
As we're all stuck here sifting with the masses
And when the sun shields itself in the pocket of eternal darkness
We shall all cease to exist...pagans, frontiersmen, and the Marxists
They're peopling your heart
Oh they're peopling your mind
And your solitude is recluse
You were forsaken, I see your bruise
It's emblazoned on your chest
It's emblazoned on your arms
And your poor mama's greed
What she sows, she shall also reap
She's heading for that door
She's heading for before
That kerosene lantern
With its diffused immemorial glow
I say, "shine that light on that there trollop"
"Shine that light, off with her bodice"
"My dear boy," she bellows, implores
"Extinguish the flame, for I can't bear anymore"
And so the thespian whimpers, in all her mawkish fragility
"Stare into the eyes of the product of your womb...
in all his glaring immortality!"
Ruptured voices now shake the room
Distant Fathers, Daniel Boone
"Vanquish all the solipsists
vanquish or they will persist"
The earth continues on its rotational axis
As we're all stuck here sifting with the masses
And when the sun shields itself in the pocket of eternal darkness
We shall all cease to exist...pagans, frontiersmen, and the Marxists
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Bent - Comin' Back
If you love stereolab or are fully submerged in this new craze for electronica amalgamated with elemental jazz and tribalesque percussive synths you will most certainly dig this fusion style electronica produced by Nottingham, England's finest-Neil Tolliday and Simon Mills. Their albums are especially difficult to procure via i-tunes and spotify, so i would either search for their music on amazon or take a day off from burdensome reality and go on a scavenger hunt at your local record shop in the electronica section.
Sergey Larenkov
Monday, September 26, 2011
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Friday, September 23, 2011
Thursday, September 22, 2011
righteous
Damn the philistines and hedonists
that ravage fecund earth,
That exult in barren lands of mind
that are now accused of dearth,
Wretched rogues and philanderers
that float insouciantly on their promises,
that are invariably unfulfilled
What brazen fools and savages
Oh eternal land and enlightened mind
these brutes are sure to precipitate a drought,
So, irrigate laboriously
Till' you've surmounted this dire bout,
We are not crestfallen mercenaries
we're strategists, we graze the land,
And as radicals and catalysts
we must forsake the dirge and embrace the marching band
that ravage fecund earth,
That exult in barren lands of mind
that are now accused of dearth,
Wretched rogues and philanderers
that float insouciantly on their promises,
that are invariably unfulfilled
What brazen fools and savages
Oh eternal land and enlightened mind
these brutes are sure to precipitate a drought,
So, irrigate laboriously
Till' you've surmounted this dire bout,
We are not crestfallen mercenaries
we're strategists, we graze the land,
And as radicals and catalysts
we must forsake the dirge and embrace the marching band
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Dan Auerbach - Heartbroken, In Disrepair
Singer and guitarist from The Black Keys. If this song hasn't been put on Breaking Bad, it should be done so immediately. This, is rock and fucking roll. If you enjoy this sound, check of Black Rebel Motorcycle Club or anything by Jack White, more specifically Dead Weather or Raconteurs.
TWERPS - She Didn't Know
Sounds like a track that should be incorporated somewhere in the film That Thing You Do. Great 60's style jangly electric guitar and an intoxicating waifish crooning from the lead singer. Enjoy.
Monday, September 19, 2011
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Saturday, September 17, 2011
Man or Astroman? "Spferic Waves"
the peculiarities that transpire when the limitless expanse of space and the limitless expanse of sea fuse. man or astroman? may pay homage to the musical genius of Brian Wilson and The Beach Boys or Jan and Dean but they certainly douse and set their songs ablaze with garage rock riffs.
Friday, September 16, 2011
Teen Daze - The Harvest
I am sure most can sense a motif occurring on this blog. The always abrupt and infinitely surprising finale of summer calls for hazy tunes that serve as hallucinogens and catalysts as your lethargic self sits back and recalls its halcyon summer. Teen Daze's EP A Silent Planet is now available for purchase on iTunes.
DEAD MAN'S BONES - "NAME IN STONE" - HD
Featuring the Silverlake Conservatory of Music Children's Choir, Ryan Gosling once again proves that he is a demigod. His self-titled album is beautiful, purchase it.
Canon Blue- Indian Summer (Des moines)
This is for anyone who is a fan of Neon Indian's "Dead Beat Summer" and lo-fi hazy summer tunes. orchestral backing swelling, ebbing and flowing, perfectly synchronised harmonics, and a catchy refrain with jubilant synths
Dirty Gold - California Sunrise
The demise of summer encapsulated...come back california sun, even with your pallor encrusted golden rays, we'll be eternally waiting
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Saturday, September 10, 2011
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
alice
-check out streetartutopia.com
1000awesomethings.com
#167 The sound of the needle hitting the record
We didn’t used to download.Nope, after spending a few weeks saving money from mowing lawns, shoveling driveways, or delivering papers it was time to get on a creaky bus and head downtown to the record shop. After walking around dusty aisles, chatting with the snobby staff, and flipping through plastic-wrapped stacks, you’d finally find the one you wanted. After paying, you’d get back on the bus, tear off the cellophane, and excitedly flip through the lyrics and liner notes before getting home.
Next it was time to run to your bedroom, flip on your stereo, and peel the black plastic disc from its sleeve. Maybe that’s when you stared at it for a second and wondered how that little plastic groove could hold all those guitars and drums, before setting it down spinning on the machine.
The sound of the needle hitting the record is the sound of a big moment about to happen. It’s the shotgun before the race, lightning before the thunder, or lion’s roar before the movie. It’s the sound of waiting, the sound of saving, and the crackly sound of imperfection opening the way, into a perfect moment, into a perfect day.
Be Drunk...
You have to be always drunk. That's all there is to it—it's the only way. So as not to feel the horrible burden of time that breaks your back and bends you to the earth, you have to be continually drunk.
But on what? Wine, poetry or virtue, as you wish. But be drunk.
And if sometimes, on the steps of a palace or the green grass of a ditch, in the mournful solitude of your room, you wake again, drunkenness already diminishing or gone, ask the wind, the wave, the star, the bird, the clock, everything that is flying, everything that is groaning, everything that is rolling, everything that is singing, everything that is speaking. . .ask what time it is and wind, wave, star, bird, clock will answer you: "It is time to be drunk! So as not to be the martyred slaves of time, be drunk, be continually drunk! On wine, on poetry or on virtue as you wish."
-Charles Baudelaire
But on what? Wine, poetry or virtue, as you wish. But be drunk.
And if sometimes, on the steps of a palace or the green grass of a ditch, in the mournful solitude of your room, you wake again, drunkenness already diminishing or gone, ask the wind, the wave, the star, the bird, the clock, everything that is flying, everything that is groaning, everything that is rolling, everything that is singing, everything that is speaking. . .ask what time it is and wind, wave, star, bird, clock will answer you: "It is time to be drunk! So as not to be the martyred slaves of time, be drunk, be continually drunk! On wine, on poetry or on virtue as you wish."
-Charles Baudelaire
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Thursday, September 1, 2011
portentous sign
there's a train passing along
wheezing away its ancient humming
there are thieves on that there train
and I know damn well they're coming
I hear the hooting and the hollering
I can't seem to make a move
they're making haste to rob me blind
I hear the wheels screech along the groove
Help me, someone salvage me
my feet are anchored to the turgid terrain
its swelling intermittently
and far off voices whisper "what a shame"
wheezing away its ancient humming
there are thieves on that there train
and I know damn well they're coming
I hear the hooting and the hollering
I can't seem to make a move
they're making haste to rob me blind
I hear the wheels screech along the groove
Help me, someone salvage me
my feet are anchored to the turgid terrain
its swelling intermittently
and far off voices whisper "what a shame"
last night's vision
An old decrepit and feeble lady beckoning me to follow her down this forest path framed by elm trees with the diffused light of a lantern in her hands. Her eyes, beady yet piercing. She is draped in black, as if the color could swallow her whole at any minute. Her skin, coagulates like rice pudding, and is just as fair in color. Her eyes are coffee beans and her nails are sea shells. I just saw her face dissolve-it's melting. She gesticulates to her right with her precious antiquated lantern and I see phases of my life framed by elm tree prosceniums. I witness the transience of my life in a fleeting moment of hysteria. 1930's circus music commences and annihilates all hope...penetrating the air...cutting it with an axe.
maybe, just maybe, this is my depiction of hell.
maybe, just maybe, this is my depiction of hell.
hollow
Hollow bones
Hollow heart
You see the world in black and white
Your lenses are obscured you know
You will never see the light
You have no moral backbone
Your moral compass is misdirected
and when I tell you I am through with you
I am not surprised, you're not affected
You don't know what life is
You've been blinded from the start
You tread this earth with broken fists
Now let me watch your world collapse with its unstable piers and battered arches
Everything is disintegrating, subsumed by all the flames
Yet there's no fire in your heart
you're playing the devil's game
Look at you, you hollow man
you've lost your sight, you have no plan
You circumambulate your fractured world
Now, here we go...let it ALL unfurl
Your haunting laughter drapes the fragmented streets
it reverberates through us all
I can't wait to see you fucking break
Hollow man, let me see you fall
-angela brussel, February 2011
Hollow heart
You see the world in black and white
Your lenses are obscured you know
You will never see the light
You have no moral backbone
Your moral compass is misdirected
and when I tell you I am through with you
I am not surprised, you're not affected
You don't know what life is
You've been blinded from the start
You tread this earth with broken fists
Now let me watch your world collapse with its unstable piers and battered arches
Everything is disintegrating, subsumed by all the flames
Yet there's no fire in your heart
you're playing the devil's game
Look at you, you hollow man
you've lost your sight, you have no plan
You circumambulate your fractured world
Now, here we go...let it ALL unfurl
Your haunting laughter drapes the fragmented streets
it reverberates through us all
I can't wait to see you fucking break
Hollow man, let me see you fall
-angela brussel, February 2011
Sunday, August 28, 2011
salvador dali and walt disney-destino
what transpires when the spearheader of surrealist art collaborates with the chief of whimsical animation...a hodgepodge of contortion, distortion, materialization and dematerialisation. what happens when things in reality atrophy in surreality.
soulsavers-revival
Featuring Mark Lanegan...if you love this go purchase the album SuperWolf by Bonnie 'Prince' Billy and Matt Sweeney NOW...support your local record store!
Saturday, August 27, 2011
st.vincent-cruel
This, is Annie Clarke. Her eyes are eternally protruding, as if her faculty of curiosity is always open and malleable. Her docile yet ardent mannerisms coincide perfectly with the buoyancy of her vocals, and the symbiotic relationship between the two produces an effect that induces nothing short of stupor and reverie out of its listeners. I almost feel as if a harp should have been used in this song due to the video's cinematographic facets, but instead the electric guitar is the principal instrument and I find that to be, interesting. The song utilizes orchestral backing paired with poppy synths and an electric guitar that emits sounds that bear an eerie resemblance to scores that could quite possibly be found in either a 90's Disney film or an archetypal Christmas film. And while this may seem dissonant to the skeptical eye, the shrewd ear knows better.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
taciturn acceptance
there's a cigarette hanging over there
do you see it?
on the tainted window sill
it disintegrates a little every day
and my heart
it goes with it
there's a phantom sitting over there
do you see it?
resting lethargically,in that chair
words he utters linger every day
yet I could barely
hear him
The place stinks of aging gin
and I've seen all the
furtive glances
I drink the air
it's miasmatic
and I commence with
midnight's dances
The rain has molded my wooden floors
do you see them?
collapsing
the triumph of despair over love has won
can you see him?
advancing
He's now begun his twilight exploits
what a shame
he's been unshackled
but who am I to resist such clout
he's the tyrant
of my conduit of darkness
and when he retreats
i'll oblige him to return
because I thrive off of him
like a ravenous disease
and when we've both done our deeds
i'll embrace narcosis
and let him, plant his seeds
do you see it?
on the tainted window sill
it disintegrates a little every day
and my heart
it goes with it
there's a phantom sitting over there
do you see it?
resting lethargically,in that chair
words he utters linger every day
yet I could barely
hear him
The place stinks of aging gin
and I've seen all the
furtive glances
I drink the air
it's miasmatic
and I commence with
midnight's dances
The rain has molded my wooden floors
do you see them?
collapsing
the triumph of despair over love has won
can you see him?
advancing
He's now begun his twilight exploits
what a shame
he's been unshackled
but who am I to resist such clout
he's the tyrant
of my conduit of darkness
and when he retreats
i'll oblige him to return
because I thrive off of him
like a ravenous disease
and when we've both done our deeds
i'll embrace narcosis
and let him, plant his seeds
fats domino-ain't that a shame
the king of rolling triplets and one of the first to cross over the charts
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
blackstar-respiration ft. common
Allow the buzz created within the vessel of your body induced by this song to lift you, and allow that reverberation to retrace the skyline. be one with this song, be one with your surroundings and breathe in. breathe in love breathe out ravenous hate. respire. respire.
Monday, August 22, 2011
viva voce-the future will destroy you
if you like the pixies, and a song that emits sounds that seem as if they could have only been produced via surfing through a tunnel at the speed of light...you'll thoroughly enjoy this
the kills-black balloon
farewell my, black balloon...may you drift peacefully in an eternal twilight...may your string be amputated so you are never anchored down to anything real again...tell the stars hello and tell them goodnight and tell them to shine on, even when you've deflated
"Writing is a habit, an addiction, as powerful and overmastering an urge as putting a bottle to your lips or a spike in your arm. Call it the impulse to make something out of nothing, call it an obsessive-compulsive disorder, call it logorrhea. Have you been in a bookstore lately? Have you seen what these authors are doing, the mountainous piles of the flakes of themselves they're leaving behind, like the neatly labeled jars of shit, piss, and toenail clippings one of John Barth's characters bequeathed to his wife, the ultimate expression of his deepest self?" -T.C. Boyle
Friday, August 19, 2011
mel torme-comin' home
Mel Torme exuding a debonair and dashing demeanor on the Judy Garland show grooving his way through a "bevy of beauts." they just don't come packaged the way they used to...
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
the brunettes-her hairagami set
if you're a fan of movies like "ghost world" and you love stop motion animation and artists like au revoir simone...you will love this...
sunvisor-sky dive
ethereal, lo-fi, summertimechill. absorb the translucent rays of the song as if your body were permeable and drift away.if you dig this, check out WASHED OUT or NEON INDIAN
grizzly bear-two weeks
credited to Gabe Askew. make sure to acutely observe the omnipresence of duality in this short. it's brilliant and really solidifies the meaning and impact of the song.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
flagpole sitta lipdub
watch out for the guy in the "silf" shirt.amazing.and they did this all in one take.
Monday, August 15, 2011
heart of chambers-beach house
just one of the many things that makes life worth breathing, living, loving and imploding for.
don't look back-she and him
directed by Jeremy Konner. fantastic 50's color palette fused with early 60's style dancing most likely made popular by none other than American Bandstand's Dick Clark. the guitarist is quite obviously a throwback to that old archetype of the indifferent, aloof, counterculture, "too cool for you" rebel and Deschanel is the epitome of that blithe and whimsical model girl of the late 50's/early 60's. in fact, it's almost as if i am watching an extremely modern "the jetsons" episode.
giorgio de chirico-mystery and melancholy of a street
"Bourgeois Pig"
This balmy afternoon I set my sights on a mighty bourgeois pig
He's a prize fighter I was told
and that heart I heard was mighty big
We meandered down the beaten paths
just he and I, were meant to last
Let us relieve ourselves of the weight of our heavy jaundiced souls
and bask me with your love, I can't bear it anymore
He strummed the chords of his heart to me
and I coulda sworn I'd seen a King
and as we floated in the dusk of night
I coulda sworn I heard him sing
we drank the wine
we hummed love's hymn
we plucked our souls
till lights went dim
I finally won the bourgeois pig
I finally won the bourgeois pig
-angelarose 2011
He's a prize fighter I was told
and that heart I heard was mighty big
We meandered down the beaten paths
just he and I, were meant to last
Let us relieve ourselves of the weight of our heavy jaundiced souls
and bask me with your love, I can't bear it anymore
He strummed the chords of his heart to me
and I coulda sworn I'd seen a King
and as we floated in the dusk of night
I coulda sworn I heard him sing
we drank the wine
we hummed love's hymn
we plucked our souls
till lights went dim
I finally won the bourgeois pig
I finally won the bourgeois pig
-angelarose 2011
"Darkness"
Let this darkness consume me
And I, I will embrace it
Whispers lingering along the tip of my tongue
Hardly able to speak...so old yet so young
Residue left from last morning’s dew
Intertwined with my tears and yes, perhaps I’m a fool
So what is this word...LOVE...that I use so frequently?
Hope and faith present in the heart
And in my perpetual mumbling
Yes, I am a romantic...I am one with this world
And the monotonous hums that speak of young girls
Young girls in love...so jaded...so lost...
We are mocked with the howling and laughter...never love? I will not
You speak your wise tales...I have heard of them all
The snickering...smug smiles...I see you wish I would fall
Fall into an abyss...filled with tumult, despair
Its true this life is unjust, immoral, unfair
But what shall I do, as I sit here confounded?
Nothing, fixed stares, while darkness devours me...
Eskmo-Cloudlight
Cinematography is brilliant, editing is superb, thematically otherworldly. Nature amplified, humble yourself.
My Favourite Things
Directed by Edward Styles and music composed by Stephen Wright. Savor all your fortuitous encounters.
Saturday, August 13, 2011
Blitzen Trapper-Fur
this is where i want to be...in collage form, doused in pastel hues, taking siestas underneath the elms with nothing but the sunlight diffused from the foliage and some morning dew on my skin
Bluebird
Certainly, one of the most prodigious musicians my ears have had the honor of hearing. Perfect clean finger picking and a crooning vocal style that some (people that are also perhaps not acolytes of Bob Dylan) may not vibe with, but a style that I find quite soulful and ardent. Enjoy.
cinnamon chasers-luv deluxe
Time doesn't stand still for anyone.Live spontaneously, appreciate every fragmented moment, and revel in even the banalities of life. I like that although this music video has sped up time and is driven by the pulsating beat of hand claps, it still manages to slow down for just a second and allow the viewer to appreciate life in all its seemingly mundane glory.
Henri Cartier-Bresson
 |
| What occurs when the accelerated velocity of time clings onto the absurdly brilliant mind of an artist. |
Friday, August 12, 2011
...
Beauty will be convulsive or it will not be at all. The aim is to hystericize until anything shackled by the bonds of normalcy disintegrates, dissipates, and transmogrifies into something revelatory and transcendent. Seek out the MARVELOUS, liberate the UNCANNY, and submerge yourself in the SUBLIME. Everything should transgress previously cemented barriers, bounds, and barricades. Free your mind, indulge, and love the disarray.
"convulsive beauty will be veiled-erotic, fixed-explosive, magic-circumstantial, or it will not be."-Andre Breton
"convulsive beauty will be veiled-erotic, fixed-explosive, magic-circumstantial, or it will not be."-Andre Breton
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