Monthly Archives: July 2009

supersonic 2009: saturday (in haiku)

how many arms he got? thrashing flailing octopus a blur of banging strings plucked by hirsute hopping-on-one-leg fella together make magic everytime i see chris corsano he fills me with this almost sexual, unbearable urge to hit as many things as possible as many times as i can with whatever’s to hand.  he is a [...]

supersonic 2009: friday (in haiku)

bass bombs from scotch egg some mournful reeds in background two drummers hit shit guitar freaking dude shivers with six string stramash nice lady(?) makes noise if i was the type of fella who might host a dinner party (and i’m not, i hate people, ‘specially round my gaff, i can’t cook and nobody wants [...]

found: durex (coz you don’t know where she’s been)

a bout de souffle (no new wave no fun)

qu’est-ce que c’est à bout de soufflé? eons ago i abandoned a hideous film class i was taking.  sickened of godard and renoir and welles by weeks of overanalysis, scene by scene breakdowns and repetitive deconstructions that pretty much spoiled the magic for me.  haven’t watched citizen kane or la regle du jeu or week [...]

endless boogie: focus level (no quarter)

move along. nothing new to see here.  aye.  an album that could’ve been spunked out at various points over the last fifty years, that wears it’s influences on it’s sleeves like metallica patches on the back of cut-off denim jackets.  so it’s no surprise that guitar slinger / caveman grunter paul major’s some major demonic [...]

max bondi: m (tartaruga)

it’s been a strange old week and a bit. involving migraines and hospitals and a bunchof daniel clowes graphic novels and drunks in masks and arguments and tears and coffin carrying (which frankly is rather unsettling) and abstinence (from alcohol and nail-biting (both equally tortuous)) and absinthe and talk of the future and a worsening [...]

bohren und der club of gore: mitleid lady (latitudes / southern)

been waiting a fucking age (well a year and a bit…) for this and i’ve fiiiinally got hold of it and eveeeentually got round to listening to it.  all ten minutes and single solitary track of it.  fair enough, shit and shine did the one track thang as well but it was a huge tribal [...]

brainbombs: fucking mess (lystring)

it’s a fucking mess?  it’s a fucking mess??  too right it is.  a glorious fucking mess at that.  welcome to the misanthroparty!  woo.  and.  hoo. a timely reissue of arguably the brainbombs finest moment. a gargantuanly grim reminder of just how squalid life and art can be.  oh it’s art baby.  a fetid ugly little [...]

bishop perry tillis: in times like these (mississippi)

oof.  like some old electrified gospel slide blues ghost record, cracked and hallucinated, ubervisioned into existence by all those mangled cassette tape bastards doing the rounds.  echoes of echoes of echoes of rererecordings.  a washington phillips reboot (that’s quite the popular term these days…) by the skaters?  or like those old folkandblues 78’s reimagined via [...]

dolphins into the future: on sea-faring isolation (not not fun)

good gravy.  i fear i might turn into some benign version of david icke listening to this.  clad in turquoise but not slavering about lizard men (who’re not jews, definitely not jews…).  instead slavering about cetaceans and rubbery dolphin love.  yup, something of the new-age about this.  certainly more explicit on this bugger than any [...]

hank iv: refuge in genre / little claw: race to the bottom (siltbreeze)

yow.  hank iv.  or hiv as they’re occasionally dumbbreviated to.  i’ll keep this as short and sweet (or dwarfed and bitter, depending on yr inclincation) like the record, as it’s not new but i just got the vinyl… feels odd to listen to anything on siltbreeze not buried under an avalanche of muck.  but this [...]

kylie minoise: supersonic preview part four

kylie minoise.  a stupidly great name.  pricking the grimly serious bubble of pofaced noisesters and all their poseur dead eyed nihilisms in one absurd and humorous swoop.  i love this kind of violent abstraction.  i smoke the minoise brand.  none of the willful lack of humour.  none of the blacker than blackest black blackness, black [...]

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.