Saturday, 11 September 2010
A Clubber's Guide to The Cosmos
He exhaled the thick, sweet smoke. A shudder worked it's way up his spine- a telegram wishing him a fond farewell. He was cold, but his palms were clammy. Fidgeting, he felt himself gripped by a familiar nausea. As the bluish cloud began to dissipate, the world around him also became, somehow, less solid. Voices, punctuated by giggles and hollers, swam around him. No longer able to make out the meanings of these words, he slouched in his chair imagining himself to be alone among the crowds of Babel. The joint made it's way around the circle of contorted faces, and after what may just as well have been several days, he found him self staring at it, held tightly in the shaking vice of his index finger and thumb. He had a flash of recognition- a picture rather than words- that this mystery plant, now burning to ash, had once been an animal walking the earth. An archetypal spirit which had found peace in the earth and grown roots.
Words. They floated around him, beckoning. Yet his tongue searched a parched mouth and found none in reply. His eyes darted around the room again, wondering how his companions could have become so unfamiliar. Fingers grasping in air, breathing became more difficult. Alone. Darkness encroached upon his vision in pulses which reminded him of a birthing child, and then with one final push, he was somewhere else altogether. Gripped by a terror which has no mortal name, he was surrounded on all sides by a sea of fire. Far in the distance he could make out a castle, made of black stone in a twisting architecture unknown to man. The structure was circled by five pillars, and resting on top of these was a seven pointed star. Gazing towards it, he remembered (no, relived) the moment his father had finally walked out on him after beating the living shit out of his wretch of a mother. He was suddenly young again. A virgin. Eyes. Hands. Laughing. Stomach. Love? He had thought so, but the words had failed him. He watched again and again and again as his life approached choices to which he had taken the route least desirable.
Is this it? Am I dying? Is Hell but an eternity of reliving our mistakes? Our fears? Our regrets? Our death? Perhaps this is Eternity, to endlessly repeat our own deaths, only realising when it's too late, that you have already been through this. A feedback loop of despair. An Ouroborus of humiliation. Well if it is, then fuck it all. I can take it. Is this really all you can throw at me, you faded Morning Star? Shoot. Go on. Hell, I know I fucked up. But I figure, over the course of an eternity, I could get used to anything. Anyway, every path leads somewhere else in the end, and even if I had shot my load that night, things could have turned out a whole lot worse. You don't know. You never get to find out. If that's all You've got to throw at me, then Dante was one mother fucking pussy-assed son of a whore.
Release. His eyes opened and he was back in the club. A woman. Beautiful. Ivory skin and hair like a moonless night. She stroked his face. “It's all right,” she whispered. “Drink this.” And she handed him a chalice of a red wine like he had never before tasted. It had clearly been fermented from grapes, but it's aroma hinted that it had been infused with a flower. Which? It mattered not at this time. He drank. And as he stared into her green eyes, she bent towards him and kissed his mouth. “Come,” she whispered. “It's about to begin.”
“What's you name?” He stuttered, amazed that words had left his mouth at all.
She laughed sweetly. “My names? Well, I guess, Lilith will do for now.” And with that she stood up and held out her hand.
“Lilith.” The word seemed to hang in the air indefinitely. “Where? Where are we going?”
“To the Binah Club. You really don't want to miss it.”
He stood and let her lead. The room was now empty except for a bartender, who, looking up from mopping a table, nodded to Lilith. Not acknowledging this gesture, she glided towards the back of the tavern. He followed. Through the door and into the night she led. And into the night, he followed. There was no conscious decision to accompany her, no desire see what she had in store for him. But he felt no resistance, so he followed.
In silence, they made their way through winding cobbled alleyways, so narrow that the slanted tenement walls rubbed against his shoulders. It had rained earlier and now a low rolling fog limited visibility to just a few feet. As his legs moved him forwards, as if completely disconnected from his mind, he was reminded of the stories he had heard of the Ferryman who guided the recently deceased to the Underworld. He wondered for a moment if she had read his mind, for now he found himself stood beneath the gates of a dark and unwelcoming cemetery. For the first time since he had met Lilith, he tried to resist, to fight, to pull away, but he could not. So he followed. He followed through the gates, which, on closer inspection, appeared to be made of bones, although a thick coating of ash prevented him from being certain. So, his uncertain legs carried his uncertain body deep into the blackened abyss of the graveyard, until, without warning, she stopped. He watched as she knelt on one knee before a patch of soil which had recently been disturbed. And from this mournful ground she picked up two red roses, which in that dark place seemed the shade of coal.
“The price of admission,” she explained, taking his hand once more and leading him back past the the tombs and headstones, the obelisks and crosses, angels, and stars- memorials to lives once lived but no more. Bodies spent, devoid of humour or goodwill, eternal dreamers in a land with no sun. They passed through the gate of bone in silence, back into the winding network of nightmarish alleys. He was disorientated, lost in a city he had thought he had known well. Twists and turns, ascent followed by decent- past filthy beggars grasping his coat sleeves.
It was with a great sense of relief that they exited they exited the maze and stood in a court yard. Tall, windowless buildings lined three sides of the clearing, mouse hole alleys all but invisible in the darkness. Directly in front of them, at the far end of the courtyard, stood a tall triangular structure with no distinction between wall or roof. It was built of black marble, and, illuminated by torches along the wall, he could see that three great swords had been etched into the hard surface above an imposing doorway. Each sword pointed skywards. The one set in the middle was a straight blade, which, at it's point, impaled flower. The swords on either side of it, Arabic in design, curved outwards, as if repelled by it's violence. A wreath had been carved into the marble, encircling the symbols. Other than this, there were no other markings visible on the front of the building. Even without a name, it seemed fairly obvious that this was where the Night had taken him.
At the door way stood two men dressed in long dark gowns and hoods which cast shadows across their faces. Upon recognising Lilith, they bowed their heads. “Your guest is most welcome, my Lady,” the doormen spoke as one without looking up. They entered a great hall, lit by torches along the walls and candles on each table. Smoke hung heavily in the air, creating patterns of swirling beauty in the flickering light. As the other guests noticed their arrival, the laughter and excitable chatter which filled the room slowly died down to a silence, punctuated by a few irreverent whispers and coughs. He sensed they had been waiting. Lilith (or whatever her name was- he had heard several different ones whispered on their arrival), lifted her left hand, index and middle finger aloft, in the fashion of papal benediction. With that gesture, the crowd came to life again. On stage a sombre trio of piano, double bass and drums played slowly, accompanied by a female vocalist who sang in a style he was unfamiliar with. It was rather nasal and droning, finding a note and holding it for a long period, somehow creating overtones and harmonics. He did not need to ask, without any prior experience of such gatherings, he was sure that this was an invocation of some kind. In fact, as he looked around him he felt oddly familiar with the setting. It was a stark contrast to a night full of questions, for suddenly he felt embraced by a peculiar sense of Knowing. Perhaps not knowledge which he could freely put into words or explanations, but a sense of order which struck a chord with his inner mind.
Looking around he realised that he had lost sight of his hostess. Feeling at ease now, he found himself a seat at a small round table, occupied by two women deep in conversation. Not really listening to what they said, but soothed by their sultry voices, he sat back and soaked in the scene. Before long, a small man darted through the crowd and placed a metal goblet full of wine on the table. The man bowed bowed awkwardly and made a quick retreat. The women of the table acknowledged him now for the first time, raising in their own cups. He followed suit and as their vessels clanged together, the lady to his left toasted, “Three cups become one, drink now to Abundance.”
They drank. The wine tasted similar to what he had been drinking earlier, he felt certain now that it was lotus which supplemented it. He was aware now of how beautiful these women were. The woman to his right, whose dark black glistening skin seemed to beckon him, leaned close to his ear and whispered, “Yes, let's drink to an abundance of pleasure. ” Breathless, he felt overwhelmed by his lust. The woman on his right, who wore long blond hair and who's skin was like that of a porcelain doll, leaned into his other ear. “And an abundance of the senses,” she purred, kissing him lightly on the cheek. He could barely contain himself, yet as he tried to speak, words refused to cooperate. He stuttered and stammered. Speechless. They giggled and turned their attention back towards each other, talking and touching and, before long, kissing passionately. Perplexed but content, he finished the remainder of his wine. Around him, he noticed that similar scenes were unfolding around the room. The air practically dripped with sweating desire. Moans of pleasure surrounded him, sending prickly shocks of electricity up his spine. Yet he could not move.
After some time, a gong sounded and the spell was broken. The divine creatures with whom he sat, broke free from each other and looked towards him. “It is time,” they said in unison, although he noticed that neither had moved their mouths. As they stood, he saw that both held a single rose. He observed as they walked to the front of the room and placed their gifts on the stage, before parting ways and disappearing into the shadows. Rising, he made his way through the tables and placed his own rose on top of the pile. A sense of apprehension prompted him to head towards the back of the hall. He found a cushion on the floor and, sitting cross legged , he waited. His eyes were locked on the stage.
Several large speaker cabinets were wheeled onto the stage by men wearing grotesque masks. When they had finished stacking amplifiers on top, they scurried off, using their hands and feet to move. Moments late they returned, labouring comically over two large drums. After much to and fro-ing, the scene was set up and they tumbled off the stage. The crowd applauded these demonic roadies with tremendous enthusiasm, clearly impressed with the show so far. Shortly after this, four men walked, slowly on to the stage. Each of them were dressed completely in black and each had long dark hair past their shoulders. He was taken back by how large they were, with tattooed arms bulging out of their uniform vests. In fact, the sheer masculinity of this band seemed strikingly at odds with the overwhelmingly female crowd. Fascinated, he cheered with the rest of the audience as the men stood in centre stage and bowed. The sinister stage-hands reappeared, placing a stool on either side of the pile of roses. From the rafters, dropped two long ropes, each ending in a noose. Two of the darkly clad musicians turned and climbed onto a stool each and then, simultaneously, placed nooses around their necks. Their companions handed them a guitar each, before heading to their respective drums.
For a moment they were still. The silence in the room was palpable, and although it lasted but a few seconds, seemed to span a lifetime. And then it began. He felt it, before he heard a sound. It was as if he had been hit by a flash flood, such was the tremendous force of the music. A low, throbbing eruption of guitars burst from the speakers. At first he recoiled, like a Pompeii statue, totally unprepared for such a sonic onslaught. After this initial burst he began to acclimatise. The sound waves were nearly visible, as glasses shook on tables and the crowds swayed along. In a trance he spread out his arms and let himself be taken away. Around him, audience members lay on the floor, writhing in ecstasy as the vibrations worked up through bodies- from their feet up to their crowns. He felt himself returning to the womb, comforted by the terrible embrace of Apollo. The drums thundered. He imagined Thor and Odin and Hydras and Syrens and the constellations and the fall of Rome. Poseidon's trident and Baldr's death cry, an end of history. He was consumed and he consumed, entranced by a magic unknown.
After a few minutes, the first glass smashed, pushed off it's table by the fluctuations of the room. It was followed by several more, and regaining his senses he noticed that the stools, on which the guitarists were stood, were also moving. Still the drums beat steadily, holding the ritual together in powerful explosions. In awe, he watched as the stools shook and slid across the wooden stage. Bit by bit the pieces fell together. The men played in unison, striking their instruments as one, moving to manipulate the magnetic fields surrounding them as one- as if the whole scene had been choreographed. He stared, eyes locked, as the unthinkable became the inevitable- as the stools skidded and slid, shook, shuddered and jolted, the men balanced precariously upon the razor's edge of life. Time no longer counting, the curtain call came as the guitarists, fell- losing footing at precisely the same moment. As they dangled, the musicians- somehow- resisted the urge to grasp at the tightening nooses. Instead they held their final chords throughout their final moments, and beyond. As their companions swung, gasping for their last illusive breaths, the drummers increased the intensity of their rhythm, pounding furiously and ever more quickly. The low rumbles of the guitars transmuted into squealing feedback as their masters' hands moved no more.
He watched in awe as the bodies swung, pendulums of decay. As the crowd began to regain their senses, as laughter broke the silence, he was unable to move. Mouth agape. Paralysed. Erect.
Tuesday, 7 September 2010
All Power to The People
Required viewing. Fred Hampton scared the government so much that they shot him in his sleep. He made such a big impact in his community, it's humbling to think he was only 21 when he died.
Sunday, 8 August 2010
Watch this space
For various reasons I've not been getting so much done in the last few months. A fairly wild road trip to Croatia (an account of which is on the way) seems to have cured that and I've been working on a few new tunes and short stories.
I've also started working with a few friends who have been kind enough to agree to illustrate some of my writings. So I'll soon be reposting some of the older things with some beautiful images, which is very exciting.
I've also started working with a few friends who have been kind enough to agree to illustrate some of my writings. So I'll soon be reposting some of the older things with some beautiful images, which is very exciting.
Thursday, 22 April 2010
Reflections Upon A Failure
Hindsight is a rotten, worm eaten cunt. It's rancid discharge, constantly oozing from that tattered and decaying flower, has been passed off as Wisdom, by unscrupulous cunt merchants, since Day One. Or was that Day Two?
I've been around long enough to know this, but it's still hard not to wonder why I even bothered writing for tba. I was already completely disenchanted by the time I'd written my first word, and my first review for the zine proved that I'd have a difficult time getting anything, that I actually wanted to write, published. Instead, I found myself asked to write wiki-lite articles on electronic labels (I know... how horrendously fucking exciting) and asked to write promo pieces for promoters, bands and venues that the editor wished to suck up to. Needless to say, my style doesn't lend itself to such work. After each submission I'd be greeted with praise and enthusiasm, followed (in short order) by the inevitable“I just don't feel comfortable printing this”.
"Fair enough," I'd say, "maybe next month".
For a zine that claims to provide 'a platform for young and fledgling writers', tba shows very little interest in doing so. As for being 'a preview into subversive, unknown and admired creativity', I don't even know what the fuck that means. Perhaps, a 'glimpse into' or 'a showcase for' would be a little more apt. Except, of course, that it couldn't be any further from the truth. Maybe I just don't get it. Perhaps, if I was a writer of the calibre required to write for Pulp Magazine, I'd have had my work printed on a regular basis.
I seem to struggle with The Trivial. It's my main flaw- but please believe me, I'm working on it. Recently, I tried immersion therapy, but after two and a half editions of tba I'd had enough. I fear that I will have to opt for a much more direct course of action- Electric Shock Treatment. The Shoreditch Cure, I believe they call it. Each time the Patient has a thought bearing even the slightest trace of originality, a high voltage blast of current is administered directly to the Corpus Callosum. I hear it feels a little bit like being skull fucked by Zeus.
So, after three months of putting up with it, I've decided to go own way. Please accept this as my letter of resignation. Glad I gave it a try. It was an aesthetically pleasing publication and it might look nice in my 'Portfolio'- or whatever the fuck those snivelling cretin who manage to write for a living carry around with them. But looks can be deceiving. Thrym was very pleased by the beauty of his new wife- until, that is, she revealed- from behind her crimson veil- a Nordic beard and began hammering his purple testes to the banquet table. You can screen print words on to paper, but unless they are even remotely interesting no-one wants to read them. Which is probably why not a single soul has made it this far into my diatribe- and it all started so promisingly too, with it's profanities and oh so eloquent stylings.
I'll cut to the chase. No more metaphors or half-arsed mythological references. I like writing and I like Zines. I feel strongly that the Independent Press is a powerful tool. I believe a writer with even an ounce of courage, knows that making friends at the expense of artistic credibility is not worth it. Not by a long shot.
I want to express myself and work with others who feel the same way.
I'm in the process of starting my own publication based on these principles... and I need help. If you are interested please get in touch. Otherwise, I'll touch you.
I've been around long enough to know this, but it's still hard not to wonder why I even bothered writing for tba. I was already completely disenchanted by the time I'd written my first word, and my first review for the zine proved that I'd have a difficult time getting anything, that I actually wanted to write, published. Instead, I found myself asked to write wiki-lite articles on electronic labels (I know... how horrendously fucking exciting) and asked to write promo pieces for promoters, bands and venues that the editor wished to suck up to. Needless to say, my style doesn't lend itself to such work. After each submission I'd be greeted with praise and enthusiasm, followed (in short order) by the inevitable“I just don't feel comfortable printing this”.
"Fair enough," I'd say, "maybe next month".
For a zine that claims to provide 'a platform for young and fledgling writers', tba shows very little interest in doing so. As for being 'a preview into subversive, unknown and admired creativity', I don't even know what the fuck that means. Perhaps, a 'glimpse into' or 'a showcase for' would be a little more apt. Except, of course, that it couldn't be any further from the truth. Maybe I just don't get it. Perhaps, if I was a writer of the calibre required to write for Pulp Magazine, I'd have had my work printed on a regular basis.
I seem to struggle with The Trivial. It's my main flaw- but please believe me, I'm working on it. Recently, I tried immersion therapy, but after two and a half editions of tba I'd had enough. I fear that I will have to opt for a much more direct course of action- Electric Shock Treatment. The Shoreditch Cure, I believe they call it. Each time the Patient has a thought bearing even the slightest trace of originality, a high voltage blast of current is administered directly to the Corpus Callosum. I hear it feels a little bit like being skull fucked by Zeus.
So, after three months of putting up with it, I've decided to go own way. Please accept this as my letter of resignation. Glad I gave it a try. It was an aesthetically pleasing publication and it might look nice in my 'Portfolio'- or whatever the fuck those snivelling cretin who manage to write for a living carry around with them. But looks can be deceiving. Thrym was very pleased by the beauty of his new wife- until, that is, she revealed- from behind her crimson veil- a Nordic beard and began hammering his purple testes to the banquet table. You can screen print words on to paper, but unless they are even remotely interesting no-one wants to read them. Which is probably why not a single soul has made it this far into my diatribe- and it all started so promisingly too, with it's profanities and oh so eloquent stylings.
I'll cut to the chase. No more metaphors or half-arsed mythological references. I like writing and I like Zines. I feel strongly that the Independent Press is a powerful tool. I believe a writer with even an ounce of courage, knows that making friends at the expense of artistic credibility is not worth it. Not by a long shot.
I want to express myself and work with others who feel the same way.
I'm in the process of starting my own publication based on these principles... and I need help. If you are interested please get in touch. Otherwise, I'll touch you.
Tuesday, 20 April 2010
(Modern) Love to Burn
What makes a record special? Perhaps it's that ever elusive Something, which elevates seductively spiraling grooves- crudely carved into a slab of vinyl- from the realms of the mundane towards the legendary. Can there possibly be a way to truly measure and compare the fruits which dangle from the branches of Art's rotten tree, as if they were subject to some infallible laws of Science? This very question has troubled critics, as well as a whole class of high society cultural rapists, ever since we crawled far enough out of the primordial slime to stop worrying about impending death and start focusing on the wholly insignificant. The utterly inconsequential. The classic album.
Classic is a strong word, conjuring (to my mind, at least) images of Herakles' children seeking shelter in Athens, Phaedrus' garden parties and Cronos eating his own children. In short, something that has stood the test of time- in these cases thousands of years- yet which still remains relevant and capable of answering some of our questions about ourselves. I don't care what the NME might think, but in 2000 years no one on Earth (if an Earth there still be), will give a monkey's fuck about Vampire Weekend. Actually, my mistake, it turns out that this is already the case. Humiliated, I back track... in the span of the next two millennium, even the Beatles will be forgotten and entirely irrelevant. It is with the self important, and ultimately futile, arrogance of a doomed culture that we feel fit to tempt the hands of fate with premature deification of our meagre artistic excretions. Like Kool Keith, America's greatest philosopher, once said we're making “wrinkle cream out of rat poop”- artifacts so instantly disposable, that a supposedly “ageless” tune is old before it's even been recorded.
Cynical? Well, you would be too if you'd seen even half of the things that I haven't. But if you want a slice of meaningless hyperbole to go with your bullshit pate, I can think of no better place to find it than Boomkat Records, where superlatives are thrown around like infant Chinese girls from cliff tops. Every other record is branded as “killer” or “huge” or (the one that bothers me the most) “Essential”. I'm sorry, but if a record is actually essential to your ability to function as a sentient being, then it's time to give up- just leave your front door key at home, pick a direction and keep on walking. Vinyl addiction is a real problem for a lot of us, and this kind of one-sided reviewing can easily make otherwise sane people lose their financial continence. I, myself, write this from a room pebble-dashed with records- many from Boomkat. Some I still listen to, the rest make superb building up boards. Here's one thing that my bitter experience battling musical cholera has taught me- very, very, very few Dubstep records even come close to being useful, to say nothing of essential. If you think otherwise, you may just find me waiting for you outside of Hit & Run with a rusty claw hammer.
To my mind Boomkat's worst offences come when describing their own imprints, such as Modern Love. The site always deems fit to spew forth the grandest of compliments for the tracks it will profit most from selling. Praise is laid at the feet of artists such as Andy Stott, in a manner that hasn't been seen since Henry VIII's court of yes men tended to the last pussing syphilis lesion on the twisted shaft of his weeping cock. I understand that it's a business and they exist only to sell records, but language is such a beautiful gift it's a shame to misuse it so wantonly. Which, of course, makes me a terrible hypocrite. I can admit that, and I am big enough to admit that quite a few Modern Love records are actually pretty good. Further more, I'm starting to get a bit excited about the FutureEverything show coming up on May 14th at Sound control featuring ML's Demdike Stare and Boomkat DJ's as well as tunes from Finder's Keepers. The real draw, though, is Omar Souleyman playing with Mark Ernestus of Basic Channel (!) and Paul St. Hilaire- it should be quite a bit of fun. Just please don't let me hear you fucking describe it as “Epic”.
Classic is a strong word, conjuring (to my mind, at least) images of Herakles' children seeking shelter in Athens, Phaedrus' garden parties and Cronos eating his own children. In short, something that has stood the test of time- in these cases thousands of years- yet which still remains relevant and capable of answering some of our questions about ourselves. I don't care what the NME might think, but in 2000 years no one on Earth (if an Earth there still be), will give a monkey's fuck about Vampire Weekend. Actually, my mistake, it turns out that this is already the case. Humiliated, I back track... in the span of the next two millennium, even the Beatles will be forgotten and entirely irrelevant. It is with the self important, and ultimately futile, arrogance of a doomed culture that we feel fit to tempt the hands of fate with premature deification of our meagre artistic excretions. Like Kool Keith, America's greatest philosopher, once said we're making “wrinkle cream out of rat poop”- artifacts so instantly disposable, that a supposedly “ageless” tune is old before it's even been recorded.
Cynical? Well, you would be too if you'd seen even half of the things that I haven't. But if you want a slice of meaningless hyperbole to go with your bullshit pate, I can think of no better place to find it than Boomkat Records, where superlatives are thrown around like infant Chinese girls from cliff tops. Every other record is branded as “killer” or “huge” or (the one that bothers me the most) “Essential”. I'm sorry, but if a record is actually essential to your ability to function as a sentient being, then it's time to give up- just leave your front door key at home, pick a direction and keep on walking. Vinyl addiction is a real problem for a lot of us, and this kind of one-sided reviewing can easily make otherwise sane people lose their financial continence. I, myself, write this from a room pebble-dashed with records- many from Boomkat. Some I still listen to, the rest make superb building up boards. Here's one thing that my bitter experience battling musical cholera has taught me- very, very, very few Dubstep records even come close to being useful, to say nothing of essential. If you think otherwise, you may just find me waiting for you outside of Hit & Run with a rusty claw hammer.
To my mind Boomkat's worst offences come when describing their own imprints, such as Modern Love. The site always deems fit to spew forth the grandest of compliments for the tracks it will profit most from selling. Praise is laid at the feet of artists such as Andy Stott, in a manner that hasn't been seen since Henry VIII's court of yes men tended to the last pussing syphilis lesion on the twisted shaft of his weeping cock. I understand that it's a business and they exist only to sell records, but language is such a beautiful gift it's a shame to misuse it so wantonly. Which, of course, makes me a terrible hypocrite. I can admit that, and I am big enough to admit that quite a few Modern Love records are actually pretty good. Further more, I'm starting to get a bit excited about the FutureEverything show coming up on May 14th at Sound control featuring ML's Demdike Stare and Boomkat DJ's as well as tunes from Finder's Keepers. The real draw, though, is Omar Souleyman playing with Mark Ernestus of Basic Channel (!) and Paul St. Hilaire- it should be quite a bit of fun. Just please don't let me hear you fucking describe it as “Epic”.
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