wovon man nicht sprechen kann, darüber muss man schreiben
Archive for Oktober 2009
Why must happy hearts break so hard? I am pretty sure I posted this song already. But I am too lazy to search. This time Daniel Johnston is accompanied by Okkervil River. The country treatment with a banjo and a pedal steel does this song quite well. It has this cocooning effect. This song needs friends, the more friends the better.
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hab ich es geschafft, heute nicht zu rauchen. aber ich weiß nicht wie. war vorhin im dunklen spazieren, um mich abzulenken. es hat geklappt. im grunde bin ich immer noch ein kleiner hosenscheißer, der beschäftigt werden will, um nicht loszuschreien. höre gerade die neue kings of convenience. sie fängt gut an.
Heute morgen als ich vom Hauptbahnhof ins Westend ging, hatte ich plötzlich diese Idee, wie es denn wäre, wenn die Leute etwas offener wären. Etwas mehr Flagge zeigen würden. Und zwar speziell was ihre politische Präferenz angeht. Ich stellte mir vor, dass alle Leute auf ihrer Stirn den Namen der Partei hätten, die sie bei der Bundestagswahl gewählt haben. Und ich musste schmunzeln bei dem Gedanken. Fing intern an, darauf zu wetten, was die einzelnen Leute, die meinen Weg kreuzten, auf der Stirn stehen hätten. Eins scheint mir klar. Wenn das ein Trend werden würde, wenn man sich sozusagen ohne Partei vorm Kopf völlig blöd vorkommen würde in der Öffentlichkeit, dann würde die Anzahl der Nichtwähler rapide sinken. Wer will sich schon in der Gesellschaft dabei erwischen lassen, dass ihm die Gesellschaft total scheißegal ist. Aber vielleicht irre ich mich auch.
Anton Fier was the drummer on the Feelies debut Crazy Rhythms. Later on he founded the Golden Palominos. I first heard of Mark Robinson when he played in a band called Air Miami whose only album Me. Me. Me. I bought in Luxembourg in 1995. What a refreshing guitar powerpop album. Full of hooks, full of bubbles, full of goodness. Later – when I had already started blogging the Absintheur who at the time also blogged about music and other stuff sent me Perfect Teeth, the second album of Unrest, the previous band of Mark Robinson. Another tuneful indie guitar gem. Today an old ILM thread was revived and I started listening to the first Unrest album Imperial f.f.r.r. for the first time. And got stuck at the third track, Imperial. It is seven minutes of one simple rhythm guitar figure accompanied by a wee bit of singing. And there is not one second of boredom in all that repetition. I think the fascination has to do with the fact that the guitar is actually played in real and not just sampled and looped. It breathes and lives. I love dancing to it in our cellar where I type right now on the keyboard. It is the dance where I just move the body, swirl the arms around and stare at my feet. With a smile on my face.
– Anton Fier, Bill Laswell, Nicky Skopelitis, Arto Lindsay, John Zorn, Bill Laswell, Fred Frith, Jamaaladeen Tacuma, David Moss, Bob Kidney, M.E. Miller, John Lydon, Syd Straw, Jack Bruce, Richard Thompson, Jody Harris, Michael Stipe, Matthew Sweet, Don Dixon, Peter Holsapple, T-Bone Burnett, Amanda Kramer, Bob Mould, Lori Carson, Knox Chandler, Nicole Blackman (some people who have been in the Golden Palominos)
– Nicole Blackman has got that voice which is crystal clear, razor sharp and attractive at the same time, I have to listen to what she says, I cannot not listen to the words coming out of her mouth. Her whispering sprechgesang is quite similar to Laurie Anderson’s actually but more feminine and seductive. The song has got this road movie feeling, just a simple beat and her voice luring us into the darkness. The atmosphere reminds me a little bit of David Lynch’s Wild at Heart. The song is going where it has to go, nobody is going to stop it.
Things only feel true
when someone’s abusing you
You are sometimes startled you are never surprised
There are only two speeds: fast and faster,
now you’re lashed to mast and lashed to master
Whether you’re in bed or in court, everybody gets off
Slow slow quick quick slow — ride.
Slow slow quick quick slow — ride.
So she smokes to keep from eating
and you fuck her to keep from feeling
and this is a taste, and this is a waste
and these are all of your days sacrificed
(from the lyrics)
– Why do I have to listen to so much bullshit to find a good tune? Out of 20 songs I play, one is worth it. How can I decrease that ratio? I don’t think last.fm is the answer. I don’t believe in masses.
– These days I have a problem to listen to tracks from beginning to end. As I said in my last post I am checking everything on the ipod and rating stuff. That means that after 20 or 30 seconds I have made up my mind and have to move on. I am bored by any title after the 30 seconds mark.
– I have rated more than 5,000 songs by now, there are another 15,000 to come. I fear that my already dwindling love for music is about to disappear completely after the rating exercise. I should never have downloaded all that free stuff in the first place. The greed is firing back. It is a killer like in real life.
– When I started this blog at WordPress I reserved another name which didn’t appeal to me enough to use it. A word which mixes German and English. And ear and sex. Right now I prefer it tons to the name and address I have chosen. What do you think? Should I change again?
– I love that soul number by Scott-Heron. It’s cooler than a glacier in the Swiss alps. And hotter than the music in any techno club in Berlin. And smoother than a Pomerol.
One of my standard after hours settings. I lie on our mauve leather couch in the living room and listen to my ipod on shuffle. My job is to rate songs as quickly as possible. 100 songs usually take less than an hour. The main question is: Will it stay or will it go? Suddenly this little blues from the old times comes on. Judging from the sound quality and the hissing it must be from the 1920s or something. Three stars, a keeper, I’d say, just about. After ten seconds I consider moving on to the next title. But what does this woman sing there? Something about making a dead man come without omitting the physical details. Apparently in 1935 – the year this was recorded – the U.S. weren’t quite as Victorian as these days.