big band moog

UPDATE 09/10: links are dead!)

i was having dinner at the silver slipper with a baboon named quartz. we were talking about how everything deliberate belonged to an imaginary world...the cups the forks the spoons. his dad was running telephone wire at a charity for spastics. kids with autism cleaned swimming pools and bent movie actors sold furniture to a double exposure with a hell experience. when I looked down on my plate, there were complementary tickets to dog bone molehill versus golf balls on the moon

much later, i appeared at recess of the mind for the rumble party, free at the thunderbird lounge...three bands took center stage. (apes of wrath, minor suns, skooners: two decent and one less so.) all the awkward from magazines wrote suicide notes and exchanged ink blots. i fell asleep with false teeth and wrote a epitaph to wax figure nostalgia. in other news, the kid from bingo goes to marriage. the six of diamonds called off the minute hand to dive headfirst into the corner pocket.

your cheatin' heart

here's a 7" rip which has a few bits of music that I really use to enjoy. Some of it don't work, like the group with the horns, you have to get into it and cut out the good parts. I used to listen to this on repeat...this, and a six weeks latin america in decline comp----just the flat out present moment at the frontiers of life shortchanged and not even the faintest proximity to careerism and compromise. I'd say that the grindcore, slug and lettuce network is/was fairly well the most genuine culture that I ever caught wind of. Never lived anywhere that had the shows, so I never really had a opportunity to lend my elbow in- that, and other reasons, mainly cowardice and sloth...

the process for annihilation

wadge
the killers
karuma
left in ruins
pre human blasphemy
fuck on the beach
siionin kevat
mahogany
jeanxseberg
arturo

(ain't no clear tracklist on the label or sleeve so it's your guess really)

satan's pimp records

((UPDATE 09/10: link seems to be dead...think it's a file title issue)


speaking of genuine, massive respect to ltj bukem and mc conrad, who recently accomplished the impossible task of touching down in some sterile casino "nightclub" and putting forward some deep soul drum and bass. conrad is far and away the only jungle mc who is solid from start to finish. bukem reminds me of rob hood; there's a sound he's listening to and that vision is going to persist long after all this weeks fashions and players have come, gone, and are long forgotten. he played a little harder and better than the coffee table atmospheric that the start of the century threatened to sweep things into. At it's essence, you get the fusion of effortlessly grooving snares, warm pads and artisan bass.
...Fuck all of completely drunk on Fremont street last night totally sick of every last fucking thing and person in the world and then some...the sound of the human voice makes me want to vomit...just about ready to start sobbing like some tough luck shit lost his only bicycle I walk up to the bar and the guy tells me it is open bar: yes oh yes baby jesus --choir of angels like st peter deciding there's maybe just maybe room for one more... once I'm blind and getting about by touch and feel I get up to some band as close to as loud as it gets. turn out its No Age who i only vaguely knew of. turns out they are fairly good live. thanks, guys

speaking of the vision:


don't think you're ever gonna hear this in the slave pits of las vegas...all the real dancers are fell off and long gone