Monday, November 29, 2010
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Monday, November 22, 2010
1. takeshi nakamura - untitled 8 FORM album
2. cHRIS AND cOSEY - RE-EDUCATION THROUGH LABOUR
3. D'Incise - pluie sur mon jardin absent
4. dOME - 7 YEAR
5. Phonophani -Earth Driver
6. cOIL AND cOH - Loves Septic Domain
7. Antiguo Automata Mexicana - Extirpe
8.Pimmon - Beach Party
9.Com truise - trypira
10.dedxound - this pills pills
11. Atom tm - weissess rauchen
12.druhb - melice
13. Makunouchi Bento - Jallek
14.viTALIC - THE PAST
15. Fuck Buttons - Phantom Limb
16. THOMAS BRINKMAN - 0100
1.7 Chris Carter - Real Life
18.MONTE CAZZAZZA - A IS FOR ATOM
19. Anthony Shake Shakir - levitate
20. ARPANET - PROBABILITY DENSITIES
21. Ran Slavin - Girl in Water
22.Dave Aju - Xibalbanasazi
23. the books - untitled
24. lsd fundraiser - lsd #1 (local experimental artist - website pending)
Sunday, November 21, 2010
I have 40 more years on this earth left, unless i am killed earlier.
This is my one an only experience of earth, the universe, and everything. I have experienced nothing that proves reincarnation and life after death to be true, except ancient writings and anecdotal evidence. So i will assume here that this is not true, that one dies and one disappears. One then leaves the service, leaves the species, leaves cognition. No more time, worry, pain, pleasure, boredom, no more ambition, heartache, drive, fear, jealousy, hatred, anger, loss. No more time.
Perhaps, as a carbon lifeform, bound to physical laws, one can work on subjectifying ones experience of time. Perhaps one can stop its flow or render an hour a minute. Can one refuse to play by the rules of the physical universe? Or does one just flow on and forget these rules, forget the mechanics of life, a kind of transcendence by indifference? What is time? Time is what it is. Were it not for our own finitude perhaps there would be no measured time. I want to embrace my human-ness as i live out my days. But, i don't want to live as a post-modern human, simplified and processed and rendered down to data. I wish to be fully human, i wish to step inside and excavate the ancient memory the slumbers within each cell. I wish to feel the truth of being human - an old species made up of old materials. I wish to communicate with ancient man. As humans we are part of a noble species, most ancient. Postmodern systems seem to alienate us from our depths.
I wish to be truly human and a deep human. We are ancient. Our cells are constructed from material billions of years old. This life-time of mine IS the universe and everything in it. Even after death our bodies decay and re-disperse into the universe. But oh, the mystery of the on switch , conscience, the fire that burns . This light that allows us to perceive our surrounds.
But then i think again. Perhaps this is ALL WRONG. This life-time of mine isnt the 'universe and everything in it'. The universe will continue without me. Perhaps it is ones insignificance that must be focussed on. 'My body does not belong to me, it is this Earths. All thought just a process of a properly nourished carbon system - nourishment provided solely by the earth. Why do the religions point upwards to the creator? The earth is our spawing ground, our sustainer, our nursery and grave. this planet and its biosphere. We are unable to live anywhere else.
Oh dear, i'm a hippy.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
...It's the birdsong of a new country you notice first. Gaudy parroting and tropical calls. The Australian whine of the crow-call, flute coo pidgeon chatter. Banging trains. Closer. Joy divisions. Spare some change & cancel th' pong. In essence it's a relaxed city. The Aesthetics band and the Crude project visited Melbourne for a series of shows, performing alongside a gaggle of artists. Lost me eftpos card at Sydney airport, didnt realize it until the descent into Melbourne, so no money available, the airport a 30 minute drive to town. My fellow passengers may've thought i'd just learnt of a loved-ones demise for all my bubbling. Providence came in the form of a loan at the other end - a miracle. A testament to the value of not burning (at least..some) bridges. Welcome to Cremorne, just north of South Yarra, just south of Richmond. The area was notorious gangland in the 80s. It was raining. Gig number one was a Crude show at a controversial new venue in Flemington called KOF. An artist run gallery space that was previously a flower shop, KOF's frontage is a madenning psychedelic punk mural, local locals and landylords and shoppe owners bitching up a storm a-fucking-bout it. I performed alongside Bearded Iris (Jane Louise) and Heavy Turkey( Lynton & Dave) . The night was Dionysus-Lite, a bellicose, braying jam-session. Heavy turkey is a drum/bass/vocals duo, James a gangly bassist of deft abilities, lynton a street-smart traps-man - groove oriented and fully bearded. Their music was a sort of curio-punk....a compelling metal-pop. Bearded Iris was a multi-media encounter, slice'o'life video clips and monologues, day-to-day psycho-pychedelica.Crude played...shawm over mini-beat, used to great effect throughout the tour.Lynton joined me on the kit for an improv piece. After Crud ex-pat kiwis came out of the fucking walls and re-formed wellingtons eerie out-fit Sharpie Crows for a free-for-all music-orgy, the entire night relaxed, without regulations, kiwi-like, a real party. litle did I know that ain't the Melbourne way. Gig two was a christening of a new warehouse room/venue in Abbotsford. Known as the 'Phillip M Carey Memorial Room', the room is a labour of love dedicated to a recently deceased local eccentric complete with a beautiful PA system. Several rag-tag artists performed..Cutlery, a stoner rock band, komplete with girlfriends and girlfriends girlfriends in tow, jamo-jamo-rama , one of those 'we-could-play-forever' kinda acts, 'Brothers Hand Mirror' (There seems to be a penchant in Melb for band-names with several words seemingly pulled from a hat or conjoured up on while drunk and stoned,something that also reminds me of Wellington - in fact ,Melbourne and Wellington do share some similar culltural traints---but see, thing is, to me Melbourne is a composite of the flat-city sprawl of Christchurch, the hyper-size and rapaciousness of Auckland, and the cluttered vaudevillian clownishness of Wellywood). Anyhoo, Brother Hand Mirror is the project of a local eclecticians Oscar Vincente-Slorach Thorn & Grant Jonathon Gronewold. They experiment with various styles and this was a cooky hip hop set. Strange rap/pop material. Interesting. Crude's set was a little shell shocked and self-concious. But hey...WTF. Heres a clip from that.......After a week off as-it-were the rest of the Aesthetics band arrived in the great city. Our first engagement was at a very hip venue called The Workers Club. This was a a learning experience. Melbourne's music and entertainment industry is a well oiled machine. As the inner city is gentrified clubs'n'pubs are forced to shut the fuck up. Bands will start from 8.30, and its usually all over by 12. As an outside musician it almost seems as if the industry works like this: the artists are the last to be paid after all the other players. There is an industry set up around bands that is there to capture as much capital as possible. You have the 'booking' 'agent'. The postering and printing boys. The inhouse door-staff. The inhouse soundperson. The photographers and media. The band managers. The lighting crews. The bouncers. The bar-staff. Each of these people demand payment, it goes without saying. I've probably missed several other roles. And i don't think its just in Melbourne either. And they try to convince you that without them, you wouldn't get anywhere. So many young bands are screwed over by these predators. The more I experience the more i believe artist-run spaces are the most rewarding places to perform. As 8.30 drew nearer it was time for act 1 to get on. This slot was Heavy Turkey's, unbeknownst to them (and me) ...pretty much my guests for the evening. You know you're in the big city when you're told sternly that if the act dosen't get on stage before x time they wont play at all. And yet again my allegences are tested...do i honour the venue or do i honour the kiwis. They arrive slightly late , argue with the sound-guy, get on stage, vent beautifully and get off. The vibe now is a confused and bitter mess, Matty yet again has waltzed into other peoples fueds with other people. They rocked. Next up was Dead Ants Rainbow, Melbourne based improv/electronic,,,chanelling a gorgeous racket, alcohol and alchemy and stoned charcoal drawings and slithering pedal-coaxing. Exciting sound-arts from the New-Australian-Wierd Movement. And then there was SUPERSTAR, a stylish duo , Roland Juno 6 underlay and Roy Montgomery-esque guitar over-lay. Incidental music, spacious, introverted, meditative, brooding like a freshly dumped teen. Unfortunatley my drunk mind couldn't help but recall channel 7's Home and Away. The guitar stuff used for particularly dark moments. i know it sounds bad but you had to be there it was great. And then The Aesthetics, our first appearance in Australia since febuary 2005. Melb has changed since then - most notable was the much increased power of the internet as a social networking and promotional device. A flesh D-vice. We hit the stage with recent barnstormers like 'O' and old-faithfuls like 'Better dead than Red'. The audience sorta beamed back at us, we provided a kind of relief, a blow-off, a kind of messy catharsis. Release from the crystal-clarity of tightass-melby-pop and the deadened copycat audio-architecture of the 'indie' scene . This was messy, this was wrong, we made mistakes, we was brazen,we were cute yet ugly. And the up-side down guitar was just so.....wrong. It was drunkeness itself. This was The Aesthetics. Edie Stevens, Matt Middleton and Malcolm-Fucking-Deans..
..next day was party time....the 2nd of 4 shows-in-a-row for thee Aes-fucking-thetics. A kiwi-centric soiree was arranged in friendly Cremorne. A beautiful loose blow-out to remedy the stilted functionality/disfunctionality of the previous night eh-what??? Rock and-or Roll it was. wasn't it. Wasn't it?? Was it?? Wha? Whaaaa? WWWhaaaaaa? Jack Sprat??? Little Jack Horner? Large Dong? (Not quite, my man thursday.)