seven songs…
tagging? i’m assuming this is what i’m apposed to do. okay m.p.s.d.s.c.l i’ll rise pointlessly yet purposefully to the bait-occassion-challenge. what i’ve been blotting out the real world with today:
strangely john fahey appeared in my ears also (not literally thankfully). poor boy long ways from home. sounds about a hundred years old. in a good way. john fahey went insane in 1964 and died shortly there after. he spoke to me in his last minutes on his dying bed and said: “take down my old guitar and smash it against the wall so i can die easy.” i did so and he passed away with a chthonic smile on his face.
slow jam by four tet. makes me feel all warm inside. like jagermeister. but without the selfloathing and regret in the morning.
the odd thing about this ‘track’ is i’m not even sure where it appeared from. according to the empeethree text its carlos giffoni, lee ronaldo and jim o’rourke. it’s about nineteen minutes of power NOISE. it’s called north six pt.1. any right thinking person should hate this. lucky my insides are all wrong…
thunder road by bonnie prince billy and tortoise. in a sicksick elseworld, will oldham would come to my house and sing me to sleep every night. not only did they have the balls to cover the boss but managed to make tortoise sound interesting. hey i know it’s late and we can make it if we run. all my favourite dreams start with that line.
cut their grain and place fire therein by weakling. despite a long, unfashionable and unhealthy interest in metal i only recently heard about this due to the fucking champs connection. ten and a half minutes of brutal black metal ugly. it’s a copy of a copy of a copy and still sounds stupidly well produced for a genre that generally seems to record it’s albums in wet shoeboxes.
our love will destroy the world by birchville cat motel: saw campbell kneale once. from what i recall he resembled some black metal version of the hamburgler. unfortunately sun city girls played so satanikally good about an hour later all i remembered of him was his name, a ridiculous amount of electronicky wires and an iron maiden riff stretched out for all eternity. this is from one of his three hundred and forty four releases. it’s the sound of an atomic bomb going off in your heart.
farewell to old bedford by tim eriksen. ah cordelia’s dad. wherever i go they go with me. if i was god and i believed in me the first thing i’d do was make them my house band. the fact they toiled away in obscurity for years and nobody came to see cath tyler play in glasgow last week is a certain sign that this world is utterly utterly fucked and we deserve nothing more than journey south to play while jeremy kyle grimly dances us to our graves.
