avast!

A friend of mine directed me to a really good blog which lets you download good music.
It's at nodatta. blogspot.com and everyday there's a downloadable album or a single or two posted of the kinds of genres of music I really get in to.
It's got me thinking about piracy a bit and how much fun it is. But more than fun, sharing culture is also fair and reasonable. As we all know, information and culture want to be free. I don't know how Metallica or Dr Dre can sleep at night, shutting down Napster. Or Sony justify their intensive insistence on digital rights management (going so far as to devise anti-copyright infringement media that will fuck up your stereo).
Yep, I'm definitely down with the anti-copyright guys.
If you don't like breaking the law but like the sound of free 8 and 16-bit music, then check out Cicada. Fucking awesome! Total computer love.
Thanks to Chris Lego for the pic.
now playing: cicada - earth's assault on the central ai

how the mighty fall

I was having a little self care/flash back session tonight as I lay on my couch and cranked the volume up to Leo Anibaldi's Void.
Void was one of those albums back in the 90's ("back in the 90's"?) that really captured my attention every time I played it, taking me on a trip. I had that mild synaesthesia people get when listening to wonderfully evocative music. In other words, I really felt the music. The emotion and the movement of the music moved me physically. It kind of invaded my consciousness and blocked out everything else. I was completely there with the music. Inside it. I love that.
Anyway, so I was listening to Void and reflecting on the fact that I have no idea who this Anibaldi guy is, so I resolved to wikipedia and google him. What I discovered disappointed me. He plays breaks and house in Rome. Breaks and house in Rome! Who fucking cares!?
Compare the stark and chilling blue noise that has eerie pan pipes and low frequency oscillating bass lines set to the rhythmic rumbling of train carriages sweeping past your ears, the sparse jangling gamelan of evocation and the insistent pulsing and tense techno from somewhere random with epos 52 to the shit sounding shit on his myspace page.
Terrible.
Oh well.
The picture above is of a comedian called Marty Feldman, who apparently died in a hotel room in Mexico City of a heart attack caused by poisoned shellfish. He worked with Monty Python on occasion. The picture is taken from his role as Igor in Mel Brook's classic Young Frankenstein. No doubt an utter masterpiece compared to Young Einstein. I was going to use Marty as my profile photo but I thought it's not nice to make fun of the dead so I decided against it.
Yes, I agree; this is kind of a nothing post.
To improve it's quality I'll add this last bit: Beat Butcha (whose myspace page is linked to this page above and to the right) makes good techno-y stuff and has recently added a new tune to his page. Check it out. It's mighty fine.
now playing: fennesz and sakamoto - abyss

omg!

This is not an example of what I'm talking about in the post below.
Although it is funny!

electronic music is the sound of science fiction

And that's precisely why I love it so much.
From the theremin (which also obviously evokes horror [often hand-in-hand with sci fi]) to Vangelis' cheesy analogue synth extravaganzas to Autechre's explorations into the increasingly complex and generative, I fucking love it. And it's not just music that uses synths, but music that uses technology and maybe even old and acoustic instruments but in new and interesting ways.
What I think I love most about electronic music is that it combines an aesthetic of the not-yet (or projections thereof) with philosophical ramblings of the limits of experience - just like science fiction. And all of this in a nice, portable and realtime format that's one of the most emotive media available. Well, for me anyway music tends to be the most affective of all media.

Above is a clip by Boards of Canada called Dayvan Cowboy. If electronic music is the sound of science fiction, then BoC are its purveyors of retro. It's the sound of tomorrow today made as though it were yesterday.
And below is Autechre's mindblowing filmclip for Gantz Graf, directed by Alex Rutterford. It's the sound (and look) of tomorrow blowing up.

arch pretentiousness

Well! An expat Tassie friend of mine invited me to a free Karlheinz Stockhausen concert, established through SIAL Sound Studios, that she'd promoted. Having heard plenty about but never any of (at least, not wittingly) Stockhausen's work, I decided I should go. Fortunately, a friend of mine was also in attendance, otherwise I would have had no one to vent to.
So I knew I was up for a thoroughly pretentious time from the get go when the first piece, Der Kleine Harlekin (Little Harlequin), was performed. This was a solo piece for clarinet and involved a young woman, dressed in pseudo harlequin attire, playing a pleasant enough tune on her clarinet, absurdly strutting around the performance space and teasingly playing with the audience. I enjoyed the piece. It was fun and funny (for example, the spot light occasionally 'lost' the harlequin and randomly roamed around the venue looking for her while she played and strutted on in the dark). And the music was lovely. Plus, the performative element to it really enhanced the experience, showing, as it did, some extra ability on the performer, Karen Heath's, behalf.
All the other pieces were boring and annoying, with the exception of Karen Heath's later performance. I found the music to be mostly unengaging and the performances a tedious conceit that did nothing to enhance the music. The performers were all very good at their instruments. In particular, the trumpeter had nice shoes.
But the point isn't necessarily how brilliant the pieces are but the extent to which the ideas push the limits of art and thought and performance and culture, explode our received notions of how art is and should be and leave us at the end of the performance thinking and feeling differently about the whole shit.
Why should I expect any less? After all, this is from a composer who has penned a performance for string quartet with helicopters!

monkey drummer

Why haven't I posted this sooner?
Here's a brilliant Chris Cunningham directed clip for an excerpt from an Aphex Twin track called Mt Saint Michel + St Michael's Mount.

when poetry ain't poetry

Jesus! It's been almost a month since I last blogged my run amok blog.
I have another not so secret blog, if only you can find it...
Anyway, a lot to say.
One of the most troubling things, and exhilirating, I've experienced recently was when I attended a poetry reading session with my friend Sean, who amongst many other things, is a poet from Northern Ireland.
We had to endure about two hours of bush ballads, 'tantric priestess' poetry (sic) and longwinded pseudo Nordic sagas about Icelords and Centaurs orated by a bushy geek from darkest Cybermumsshackbecauseimtoolackinginsocialskillstomakemyown
wayintherealtimeuniverse. It's a place in Wales if you haven't heard of it. I mean seriously, this guy went on for ages and then was lent a second helping. It was truly painful. His female companion was wearing a t-shirt that said, 'jos whedon is my master now'. She wishes. Then I met this young alcoholic guy I'm sure I've met somewhere before and not because he reminds me another guy I know from Tasmania. People desperately seeking authenticity... Problematic... I arrogantly feel sorry for them. It's not the feelings that count but what you do with them, how they're manifested. So I'm okay for now/
Anyway, his friend was faintly reminiscent too. Turns out he works in a workplace at my work. It's a strange world, Jeffrey.
Finally my mate got up and did his thing, and fuck, he does it well. His poetry is like riffing for a good five or so minutes and he spins narratives that speak of 'the real'! Ha! What bullshit. What is 'the real'? Fuck off.
His poetry was funny, vibrant and vital and he received appreciative laughs and applause all throughout his recital. Utterly unpretentious and totally effective and lyrical for all that. Inspirational too.
On a different note, I got to, ahem, dj (sic) for just a moment at a daggy disco that was held at a new squat in Coburg run by a bunch of anarcho's. It was a great night. Black Star Sound System provided the sound as usual and gosh they do it well. Everyone had a great time but for some reason there wasn't much self congratulations from the guys who ran the show. Strange.
So I've got this great dj mixer on my laptop and I'm going to learn the skills and use my great taste in muzak and extensive muzak collection to devestating effect. Oh yes. And then they'll rue the day they ever mocked me, oh yes.
Time for bed.
Now Playing: Ministry - Flashback. So fucking cool.