Thursday, November 8, 2018

out and about

The Christchurch inner city-scape is an exciting melange of  skeletal half-buildings , exposed structures, pop up businesses, corporate glassware, vistas and open fields, panoramic jack rabbit dodgers, lime-green scooter shooters, signage boasting of constructionistical futures, corporate logo branding, high viz day-ware, tattoos 'n' piercings , polynesiana, wall-sized paintings. And then there's me, the news-presenter haircut boy with the brain thats way too aware of its peripheral body parts. Walkin' around, thinking people are calling me names. Yes, I must be a cop becuase i am know how to write. Best tattoo my forehead then! Yep, schizo-affective is such a bore so I drown me bloods in nerve deadeners that make it all more of a laugh than the nightmare it apparently is is is is.
Don't tell my manager - they run an abstinence model with which to keep the pretty public safe from my menace you see. And they don't want me to drop dead on their watch because itll make them look bad.
Music. Musicians in the late naughties , who were maybe in their 20s in the 90s, are an interesting lot. It's so great to see old rockers still doing it, living the dream, or re-living it. Some still retain a kind of excitement and ambition, they want to tour,  to get famous, to even get rich. Its for the love of it. Raise your hand if you are famous. A couple of years back I wrote the blog 'why i quit live music'. Quite an selfish amalgam of reasons, perhaps the essential one being the fact that I was not actually enjoying it anymore, getting old and tired, being contented with what i've already done (is that 'resting on yr laurels'?) ,working full time, being an terminal alcoholic, being mental generally, hating non-equal power dynamics, hating not having the money to have a good time, hating the get on-get off mechanics of the Melbourne music scene, getting no-where, finding better ways to express oneself etc, not having a car, never getting paid, not caring, realizing, witnessing and experiencing the down-side of the financialization of all culture, big-bopping, ride hopping, understanding determinism, becoming a bit of an essentialist as aside from an existentialist in my old age, smelling hair, spitting in peoples drinks, getting beat on by a whole band in 2010 was probably the last straw actually (None gallery underground where a group of young people schooled me in anarchism)
On coming back to New Zealand I've found many things easier to achieve - gigs are seemingly easier to organise. But I still have the hangups. And i keep saying yes. Yes to gigs.Yes to this, yes to that.
Im supposed to be all up for it and love music. Even though its a complete pain in the ass. And if you back out your some sort of weakling.
Art back black call . In blacker, we put a put adress for ones own inventions. Hadron, that blaster of mine puts needles on the inner. So, dragger, please choose ones destiny ? What will it be. Last week it was 'stand up comedian' the other it was 'electronic engineer' . The other week it was 'computer scientist'. Then it was 'acting' . Then it was 'online advaita fiend'. then it was 'beneficiary' . Humour the madman. Smile and Nod..Did you see Trumps great meet-the-press session this afternoon? Please oh house of houses - please investigate his tax returns. And while your at it, you may want to check out my extremely complex fiscal doings (you won't understand it). In blacker - it is a self-esteem issue, and people constantly mis-interpret, misunderstand , and mis-comprehend each others intent.  Thats life, Mr Ogilvie. Root out the memory.  Root out the bad-guys. Black hat wannabe. And want. to. be. In out and about. Breast. Eating. Breast. Beef Tallow.

review Mysterious Sea Peoples, Palace of Wisdom, the Ruling Elite , Hellfire Club


Sing a song of Six-pence. Power. Control. Power dynamicists alight. Nigga stop. So, bawdy is as bawdy does and this programming language is a pseudo-code amongst pseudo codes. You are buoyant and brimming with fire.
Each band here has a vocalist by the name of Andrew O'Connell (Ox).  Ox thinks on his feet! Ox is a kind of local bard, a kiwi shaman, an aetheric spokesperson. A soul-man. A confirmed Stoic - the party is Ox, Ox is having a party and the music is coming along for the ride - paradoxically each band is a discrete unit all unto itself .
If you listen carefully you'll make out lyrics of a high grade poignancy. Ox's lyrics are astute, knowing, seemingly able to call us all out for the hypocrites and scumbags ('scoom-bags') we all are. R. Ruby.
First up was the newly combined 'Mysterious Sea People', an ad-lib adventure - I used (someone elses) guitar over pre-recorded beat ( like a crude outing) but kept my mouth shut and riffed, block universe , mutli-core processor -
machine code and bristling nerve. Sasquatch. Secure-teams latest video. So sample and digital signal processing it. Ox lyricized on the spot. Moments evoking acts like Royal Trux or Sleaford Mods etc.
At times it was like outsider art. A sound person with compression techniques May have helped overall sound but hey, this was art and whammo you get what you get . Can't say whether the MSP will perform much. But it was a wonderful experiment and why the hell not. Fun lyrical soundbites can be exploited over at the facebook. Great references and on-the-spot sex-references
Next was the Ruling Elite. ( Fantastic musicianship and songcraft here. Modern post-jangle rockers. A type of folk music.  A rollicking , oscillating journey. Gone rock. Audience swelled with paying customers in dress up. Pliant. Entry level self selfing. Grabbing a packet, and delivering said packet through a routing system banged together with sellotape and bubble gum. ET phoned home. Angular Momentum. I think things were hyphenating.
And bang the songs played on. Oxes songs are stories and glories.
And then an old sixties proto skinhead feel came upon us as the Palace of Wisdom hit the stage. A woman in a burkha and the grief about things done that can't be changed. Whack-o-hack. Exclusionary. Evolutionary algorithms.   More great riff-rockers kept the night up and at 'em and the master of ceremonies didn't let up as he implanted his magical natural language codices into the interpersonal medium. Whiskey punt. Salamander. Hard left anarchism and riot channelling. Changelings. Is everything facebook? Has the world been facebooked? Will the old school ever be necessary again ? Like , its so handy to just whip up an event page - and the fact is - everyone hears about it so why even do posters?? I don't know. Posters are awesome. Ox has a great poster collection.
Bang up philosophical .