Calling All Dawns is an album of orchestral and choral tracts written by the film, game, and television music composer Christopher Tin. The album is divided into thematic sections of "Day", "Night", and "Dawn" or as he writes "life, death, and rebirth." The album falls into the "world music" category, with each track sung in a different language. Already I know I've lost readership there and possibly a man card but for the most part the album isn't exotic for exotic's sake. As a side note the studio album does use a very large range; pianissimo can be almost inaudible where as fortissimo can be blasting.
Day
1. Baba Yetu - The disc leads off with what is Tin's most recognized work, as theme to the mega-hit Civilization IV (which is one of the many fantastic scores that have graced the franchise). Vibrant and memorable it's a great lead. 2. Mado Kara Mieru - A very rich and layered song. 3. Dao Zai Fan Ye - More restrained than the first two, a lovely duet. 4. Se E Pra Vir Que Venha - Lighter fare, solo with much lighter accompaniment. I can't help but feel this song was over orchestrated, and would be better if some sections where a capella. 5. Rassemblon-Nous - Tin adds in electronic. The only track in this section I'd consider bad, due largely to the lead vocalist.
Night
6. Lux Aeterna - Quite and introspective, a good transition to the second section. 7. Caioneada - A reverie, Tin pulls back the orchestra for good effect. 8. Hymn Do Trojcy Swietej - Operatic and classical sounding, contrasts well with Caioneada.
Dawn
9. Hayom Kadosh - Bit plain, not overly ambitions. Shortest track on the album not bad, but not memorable. 10. Hamsafar - Not really sure why this is a separate from Hayom Kadosh, both songs make more sense musically when played in order. Hamsafar is a more dense piece but it's forgettable. 11. Sula-Kresne - Probably my favorite track on the album. Slightly dissonant, perhaps the best blend of instrumental and vocal elements on the album. 12. Kia Hora Marino - Thematic reprisal of Baba Yetu. Great track to bring the record to a close.
All in all a good effort with four tracks I consider great, five tracks that are good, and three which are forgettable or bad. My main idea for improvement to Calling all Dawns would be for Tin to play more with dissonance and tempo or increase the non-western musical influence in the work. Based on this album I hope Christopher Tin gets a crack at breaking the same sounding grand orchestral scores that plague movies today, or continues to ply his craft in the far more dynamic realm of video game sound tracks.
Desert Bloom Phoenix 1 : the first shot fired in the war against squareness
At the tail end of the year 2009, after turning 30, buying my first house, and with a daughter on the way, the realization that life gallops past at a thoroughbred pace dawned violently on me. I'd spent that year and several before it highly focused on earning money, developing new skills, and pursuing social goals, but only doing my true and lifelong passion, music, in erratic spurts. That needed remedy, so I promised my soul that I would make up for that neglect, and then some. I declared to myself and whoever was listening on Twitter that 2010 was to be the "Year of Music."
So, after a brief exchange on Twitter, I wrote an frenzied email to Gangplank jefe Derek Neighbors with a raw flurry of ideas about how music could be integrated into the electric hive that is GP. Some of the twisted suggestions I proffered included John Zorn-esque musical "games," collaborative recording sessions, and a multi-act live showcase that Neighbors dubbed a 'musical Ignite.'
The root of my ideas about where music fits in with Gangplank is that I want to provide a conduit for those who burn with artistic talent, but whose creativity has been shunted to the side, ignored, or suppressed by the quotidian demands of life. Over the past year, I'd met dozens of people who, like me, had subjugated their passions due to work or social pressures. These people are busting at the seams with creativity and just needed a clean shot at self-expression in a supportive environment. Partially inspired by the Phoenix Design Community movement, I wanted to connect all these people with each other so that they could vibe with, encourage, and learn from each other, cross-pollinating different styles and media.
To my simultaneous gratification and mortification, Neighbors posted the email, complete with heinous fat-fingered misspellings, as the opening thread on the new Gangplank Studios Basecamp workgroup. A bunch of super rad folks joined the group. Not long afterward, a tour of the secret new Gangplank compound was arranged, and Brandon Franklin, Greg Taylor, and I showed up. When we saw that new expanse of space, we flipped our wigs and started babbling like howler monkeys about the possibilities. A few days later, we had a high-powered vegetarian passion lunch and ambitiously set the date for the first big GP music event, which we decided should be a variant on the live-showcase 'musical Ignite,' but without slides. Short, impactful live sets from a wide variety of artists, not enough time with any one artist for the audience to get bored. Humming with excitement, we set about recruiting acts. I reached out to a bunch of Phoenix Design Community folks who I knew were music freaks, Greg Taylor roped in Johnny Dudley.
Shortly afterward, the frighteningly rad Brandon Mason joined our committee, and agreed to head up the inclusion of visual art into the event. This was a major plus, as at an earlier meeting we'd discussed our desire to add art to the event but were afraid that we'd not have time to properly wrangle it. Mason is a high-powered art pokemon with enviable organizational skills, and we knew that he was th' one who could bring that part of the vision into the realm of reality.
The goals of Desert Bloom Phoenix #1 were as follows : 1) Expose the hithertofore unpublicized or partially-concealed musical and artistic talents of folks in the creative / tech community 2) Create an environment where these creatives can meet, talk, and hopefully spark conversations that will lead to collaboration and cross-pollination. As we termed it, a crucible for astounding original music and art collaboration. 3) Have an bodacious time
Jason Ayers, who is not only a brilliant designer and technologist, but also a gifted digital composer, graciously donated an immense 2000-watt sound system for Desert Bloom. We set it up at the Hacknight before the event, and from the first sound check, we knew that this thing was going to be a shack-shaker. Our favorite hardware hackers HeatSync Labs hooked us up with the halogen lights used to illuminate the art space.
Ward Andrews designed the DB logo and also had a secret ace up his sleeve -- he performed as mysterious iPad-wielding techno boombraperator Mister Shape.
Through the entire planning process, the Gangplank core crew and Neighbors in particular were totally supportive and did whatever was needed to make Desert Bloom a reality. Gangplank is the reason that Desert Bloom happened; it's like the only fertile soil in a vast expanse of desert, from which a vibrant bloom erupts and so changes the landscape.
On the day of the event, I was flipping out on a loopy adrenaline high and the sequence of happenings just unfolded like a Transformer. The irrepressible Brandon Franklin, who is our de facto captain, and Brandon Mason, who adroitly handled the visual art aspect, both took the day off work to prep Gangplank for the event. I came in at about 4pm, not long before Greg, and soon after, the entire Gangplank posse started helping us clear all the work tables and other stuff from the room. Good thing, too, because we'd grossly underestimated how long it would take to break down and stow all the tables and computers used by Forty and Integrum. With the assistance of all those cats, we got the place cleared just ahead of the 6pm time when we'd instructed the artists to show up.
Mason arranged a bunch of tables over where the arcade games usually sit and covered them, the walls, and every damn thing with this cool black fabric that he found at SAS. This was a stroke of brilliance that made it a lot easier to view the art without distraction.
Preston Lee of Sonic Binge Records / Whiskey Three arrived to help set up the live and recorded sound. His help, along with Ayers', was an amazingly generous boon to Desert Bloom -- none of the organizers know diddley about live audio engineering, and their combined efforts really ensured that the proverbial plane didn't crash into the mountain.
Hors-d'oeuvres sponsors 24 Carrots arrived with a grip of freshly-made hummus and strawberry lemonade to refresh the participants and audience. 24 Carrots owner Sasha brought along several volunteers to help distribute the goodies and promote their delightful take on herbivore cuisine. Having these folks donate food was a definite mutual coup, as everybody seemed to enjoy the tasty snax and 24 Carrots got exposed to over 100 cool new prospective customers.
We'd also surreptitiously picked up 150 mini cupcakes from Butter and Me to fete the birthday of a person who I can only describe as the soul of entrepreneurship in Phoenix, Francine Hardaway. Butter and Me went beyond their customary outstanding level of quality and service by inscribing these with "Happy Birthday Francine" and delivering them to Gangplank free of charge.
The visual artists started trickling in, and Mason deftly wrangled their works onto the display stage. The final effect was arresting, with colorful paintings and illustrations from Shannon Elizabeth Harden, Tony Deschiney, and myself, along with a video installation by Alex Clauss, as a backdrop for fascinating metal sculptures by Eric Krogh, Heather Kozan, and Mason with his collaborator Kyle Wagner. Ward Andrews mounted his intriguing 'Maze' piece across the room.
Our incredible ticket-taking volunteer Eileen Kane arrived and posted up by the door, ready to take tickets and keep track of how many folks actually showed up. We'd sold out of the initial 125-ticket release in less than a week, so we'd made an additional 50 or so tickets available. Out of something like 140 tickets 'sold,' 100-some-odd ticketholders showed over the course of the evening, along with a couple dozen folks who didn't have tickets (but we let them in anyway).
After a fevered couple of hours getting the place set up, "Mister Shape" made the walls ripple with this unique boom-bop-bleep techno music. Then, opening DJ Roger "Halfacat" Williams took to the decks to spin for an hour as people started filtering in and hobnobbing. A bunch of people I talked to who knew Williams well hadn't known he had skills on the wheels of steel, which flabbergasted me, because I'd seen him back in December with his outstanding taste in drum-n-bass and great beatmatching skills. His set at DB ranged from DnB through dubstep and then into classic industrial dance, including one of my very favorite songs by "My Life With The Thrill Kill Kult".
After Williams wrapped, Brandon Franklin and I introduced the lovely and talented Niki Voyatzis, who mesmerized the crowd with her enveloping rendition of Debussy's "Reverie." A beautiful and hypnotic way to ring in the inaugural Desert Bloom event.
Next on stage were the sharp-dressed Tonia Bartz and Noah Dyer, a couple of Phoenix tech pros together known as "Bad as Pink and Plaid." They played a delightful set with songs showcasing both of their voices along with an energetic cover of Elton John and Kiki Dee's "Don't Go Breaking My Heart."
In between sets, Franklin and I attempted to play and create tracks from our industrial-cyberpunk duo project, forcedFuture, but were dogged by technical problems and equipment crap-outs. After a few less-than-satisfying tries, we handed the inter-act dead air to expert soul DJ Jason "Molotrash" Garcia.
Northwest Coast transplant Johnny Dudley came up next and slayed the crowd with his exceptionally good rock 'n' roll singing and guitar playing, backed by his pal Jay. I'd never heard Dudley before, and I reckon that few in the crowd had, either. His powerful tenor voice and strong stage presence were pretty captivating, even for those who don't really go in for that alternative rock stuff.
After Dudley's set was complete, there was a brief intermission followed by an open jam session. We'd hoped to get people from the audience to pick up instruments and join the jam, but they were too shy. This is something that we really hope to improve at the next several Desert Bloom events -- we want the audience to interact more, uh, actively. We plan to design the next installments with more compelling incentive for mass participation.
Revving back into the meat of the program, redPear honchos Brandon Willey and Krystofer James Van Slyke took the stage as Chump Express. Pumping out a high-energy, rhythm-driven music they called 'Urban Folk," they astounded the audience with their live-sampling and beatboxing skills, reaching a crescendo with their fleet-paced educational rap "The Alphabet Song." This performance was definitely one of the highlights for me.
There were little kids dancing to the music through a lot of the first hours of the event, which was rad and enhanced the atmosphere. If little kids think it's groovy, it probably is in fact groovy. Their energy is contagious.
The party began to spill out the front door. At times, it seemed like half the crowd was hanging out at the big improvised tailgate where beers were swilled and guitars strummed. I wished that they'd be inside listening to the acts and viewing the art, but everybody was having such a good time and meeting new people, so I guess that it fit in with the whole Desert Bloom vision.
While I shakily manned the soundboard, Preston Lee and John Bielo, backed by Willey on percussion, cranked out a tuneful set of 90s-style rock. Bielo is a great lead guitar player, and Lee's shimmering Stratocaster guitar tone is very distinctive; these factors along with Preston's blond wig drew the audience into their sound-world. It was really nice to hear these tunes with percussion, as Whiskey Three has been only two humans for some time.
Preston returned after his set to rescue me from the sound duty, and another jam happened. Jams, when kept to a audaciously short length, are mega fun; there's something about improvised expression that's just not duplicable elsewhere.
Throughout the event, the awesome Brett Walker of Phoenix Productions filmed everything with his super fancy video camera while Greg Taylor, Chanelle Richardson, and Devon Adams documented with still cameras.
Jason Ayers AKA Consumer then began his mind-bending set of original electronic music. He debuted a brand-new composition which he'd written just for Desert Bloom, a dubby funk piece called "Sunnyslope." Ayers also played live guitar samples on his peerlessly hip seafoam-green Fender. Then, he strode into the audience, sat down on the couch that was front-and-center, and proceeded to control his music via iPad while chilling with audience members on the sofa. People watched intently as Ayers manipulated the faders. We'd wanted to demolish the barrier between performer and audience at Desert Bloom, and Ayers made that intent concrete.
Hip-hopper Andrew "Courdek" Coppola with DJ Les followed to close out the live music portion of the evening, and golly, they sure rocked the joint. The crowd had unfortunately thinned out by about 50% by the time they got on stage, but Courdek's crowd-moving skills created an intense and participatory experience for those smart enough to stick around. He actually had the group of Gangplanker close to the stage waving their #*%^$*#^@*ing hands in the air as if they just didn't care. It was an electrifying experience. Dj Les also incited what Mark Dudlik aptly described as a "very very very very very white boy dance competition" with his stone-solid beats and Q-Bert-esque scratching. Courdek and Les unquestionably brought the energy of Desert Bloom to an intense peak.
Jason "DJ Molotrash" Garcia wrapped up the night with a schmoove soul / funk / R+B set that really put the perfect finish on a wild evening. Much to my chagrin, though, the crowd really started to disperse after Courdek's set, so only around 30 people got to hear Molotrash on the decks.
Some drums were played along with the R+B tunes; after Garcia decided to stop spinning, another impromptu jam broke out, which rocked late into the night. Ayers masterfully sampled snippets of the jam and built cool aural constructs out of them, much to everyone's surprise and pleasure. Brandon Franklin went bananas on the cajon, which was itself a pretty awesome thing. Finally, random folks from the audience started to join in, taking the microphone or hitting drums. In some ways, for me, this was the coolest part of the whole event. All the curiosity, connection, and emotion that had built up over the past 5 hours kind of erupted into a spontaneous musical happening.
Everybody was pretty well spent by about 1:00am, so we called it an night. James Archer, who evidently has either an inexhaustible reservoir of energy or a nuclear power pack, kindly stayed until after 2am to help us put the Gangplank tables back roughly in their correct neighborhoods. Sunny Thaper reappeared to help as well. Sometime after 2am, the Brandons and I were collapsed into the lobby chairs, and the adrenaline of awesomeness was finally starting to wear off.
We learned a lot of important lessons from DBP1 and are getting a lot of really valuable feedback from the audience and participants about how we can make the next events in the series much better. People were clamoring for more visual art, so that will figure even more heavily into upcoming DBs. Some of the featured artists at DB1 sold works on the spot or made connections with potential patrons, which is outstanding and the sort of result we want to see more in future.
The experience was really a powerful one for me, and, I venture to guess, for many of the participants and attendees. The event and the energy it created testified to what can be accomplished when a large group of passionate people, supported by an institution like GP, give maximally of themselves to make something amazing occur. I know from post-DBP conversations that it was a catalyst for some pretty significant life decisions, projects, and connections amongst those who attended and participated. It had a transformative feeling, like something powerful had really happened to the Phoenix creative community, and was happening, something galvanizing and irreversible. (6,122)
This guy is Dr. Ken Lunde. He's the author of two groundbreaking books on the handling of ideographic languages (e.g., Japanese and Korean) in information processing, "Understanding Japanese Information Processing" (1993) and "CJKV Information Processing" (1999 and 2008 editions). [CJKV, by the way, stands for "Chinese Japanese Korean Vietnamese"] He works for Adobe and is kind of a big deal in the global infotech scene.
In addition to his landscape-altering work in that field, he's a notable collector and photographer of fine weapons. His photographic wallpaper of pistols is extremely popular, and his extensive collection of firearms and knives is the subject of endless slavering by gun buffs.
Dr. Lunde kindly granted us this one-of-a-kind email interview where we ask about everything from firearms to "Terminator : Salvation." This is an amazing window into one of the most intense minds on the planet -- check out Dr Lunde's Web site at http://LundeStudio.com for great photos and more info, and follow him on Twitter @Ken_Lunde . So read this interview and learn how to be far more awesome than you are now.
Here's the interview, presented in its entirety :
LW) For the benefit of our readers, what is CJKV information processing?
KL) In a nutshell, it is everything about how the languages that include ideographs (aka, Chinese characters) as part of their writing system are processed on computers or by digital means. Character sets and encodings are the fundamentals, because everything else depends on those two aspects.
LW) You're known as the authority on CJKV type and computer science. What first interested you in working on CJKV information processing?
KL) My interest began in the summer 1985, when I was deciding which non Indo-Eurpean language to study as part of the graduation requirements for a degree in linguistics. My choices boiled down to Japanese and Arabic. I spent time with both languages, and chose Japanese because I found it to be more challenging. Given the events that took place in subsequent years, combined with the fact that I was in the military at the time, I am glad that I chose Japanese over Arabic. Otherwise, I might still be taking sand out of my boots.
LW) Have you lived in East Asia for an extended period of time? If so, tell us about it.
KL) I have been in East Asia only for business trips, and only once or twice for a vacation. I have not lived there for any extended period. I have been to China once, South Korea twice, and Japan several times.
LW) This kind of work seems dauntingly difficult. Did you have to attain fluency in all four languages before starting this work?
KL) Of the languages in question, I have moderate fluency only in Japanese. I studied the simplified forms as used in China, and thus have rudimentary Chinese reading ability, but I cannot understand it when spoken, and cannot pronounce its words.
LW) What are the most significant challenges you face in your CJKV work?
KL) The most difficult challenge is keeping track of changes. Then again, if things stayed the same, that would be boring and stale. How we deal with challenges define us as a person. I see challenges as opportunities.
LW) Our rough understanding is that Chinese has thousands of characters. How is this handled with respect to input devices?
KL) Fundamentally, languages are spoken. The written form is simply a way to record spoken language. For this reason, the most intuitive way to input the thousands (actually, tens of thousands) of ideographs is by reading. Of course, many ideographs share the same reading, meaning that the user must often choose among several candidates. The longer the input string, meaning words that are composed of two or more ideographs, the lower the number of candidates. Modern input methods, such as those bundled with the OSes, handle this quite well.
LW) Is your work the first of its kind?
KL) Apparently it is. My first book, "Understanding Japanese Information Processing," was published in 1993. I have been told by many people that it changed the landscape, and enabled many companies to develop software for the East Asian markets. My next two books are best thought of as expanded and revised versions of that first work.
LW) On a scale of "pretty awesome" to "inexpressibly awesome," how would you rate your job at Adobe?
KL) I don't believe in such scales, but on a scale from 0 to 10, with 10 being the highest, I would rate my job as a solid 9, and possibly a 10.
- on photography :
^^ One of Lunde's beautiful photos -- this of a customized Colt Delta Elite in 10mm
LW) Your photography is remarkable for its inviting atmosphere and warm light. How do you achieve these effects?
KL) Practice. I found that I am my best critic. I discovered several years ago that photography is all about capturing or recording light, and the better one controls the lighting, the better the results. All other factors are not nearly as critical.
LW) Were you formally trained as a photographer?
KL) No. I leaned through trial and error, and my earlier days had lots of the latter.
LW) What equipment do you use to get your results?
KL) I use a Lowel three-light set for lighting. My camera for the past 1.5 years has been a Nikon D300. My preferred lens is the Nikkor 60mm Micro lens, which I have had for over seven years, and which has transcended four digital SLR bodies. For post-processing the photos, I have been using Adobe Photoshop Lightroom (aka, Adobe Lightroom) for about three years. I used Adobe Photoshop before that.
LW) What subjects apart from weapons do you most enjoy photographing?
KL) Nature, family, and friends.
[-on firearms, etc:]
LW) Your firearms collection is very well-curated. How did you first become interested in firearms?
KL) I was raised by my father to have a strong appreciate of and respect for firearms and other weapons. I see them as specialized tools, and nothing more. I appreciate the craftsmanship that is required to make functional weapons.
LW) Does living in California present special challenges for the firearms enthusiast?
KL) Definitely.
LW) You note on your site that 10mm is one of your favorite cartridges - it's one of ours as well. Why do you favor this cartridge, and what is your preferred loading?
KL) I favor the cartridge partly due to the Glock 20 being an excellent platform for this powerful cartridge. The Glock 20 is my hunting sidearm. I do not handload 10mm, but I do handload for all of the rifle cartridges that I use. There are plenty of quality 10mm loads available today.
LW) You have some wonderful Colt Delta Elites. Have you had any reliability or durability problems with that model?
KL) I have only one Colt Delta Elite, which has been highly customized. I have not had any issue with it. Although it is significantly heavier than the Glock 20, it has more felt recoil. As much as I appreciate the Colt Delta Elite, I prefer to use the Glock 20.
LW) Which weapon in your collection would be your preferred daily carry, and why?
KL) When I am out of state, generally for hunting, I tend to carry a Glock 20. I cannot carry in California. If I could carry in California, my EDC would be a Glock 33.
LW) What are some problems you see in firearms design and how would you improve them?
KL) I am a firm believer that there is no perfect firearm. But, there is an ideal firearm, and which one it is depends on the person who needs it. To be honest, I don't see any problems in firearm design, and most of the problems that arise tend to be the result of the nonsensical firearm laws that we have, either at the State or Federal level. The ten-round magazine capacity limit is a perfect example of this.
LW) Have you trained formally with firearms? If so, where?
KL) I have had very little training with firearms, and most of it has been while in the military. Starting at an early age, like studying a foreign language, has benefits in that you develop life-long skills. And, like any sport, it is all about practice, which includes mental preparation. Some people can mentally prepare themselves on their own, and some require formal training. Still, I would like to take more formal training, when I have more free time.
LW) Some of our readers find the trigger on the original Walther P99 to be impossible to get used to, that the pull is too long and insufficiently crisp. As someone who shoots both P99s and 1911s, how do you recommend that shooters new to the P99 get acclimated to that trigger?
KL) My best advice is to dry-fire the trigger to get accustomed to it. The AS (Anti-Stress) part of the trigger is what confuses most people. Becoming accustomed to the AS trigger overcomes this issue.
LW) What are some firearms you'd like to try or acquire in the coming year?
KL) At this point, I really have nothing on the immediate radar. The Kahr P380 intrigues me, as does the new Beretta Px4 Storm Compact. (The Beretta Px4 Storm Subcompact did nothing for me, and I never developed an interest in acquiring one.)
LW) What do you look for in a handgun? In a rifle?
KL) For a handgun, I look for quality and durability. For a rifle, I look for quality and accuracy. I didn't mention accuracy for a handgun, because most have comparable accuracy, and how it fits one's hand and how well one can control the trigger are greater influences in practical accuracy.
LW) Many people ask about firearms for home defense. Some experts say that a shotgun is the most appropriate home defense weapon, while others advocate for the handgun. What in your estimation is the most suitable firearm for home defense?
KL) A typical shotgun is a bit too large (long) for home defense. If you live in an NFA-friendly state, a shotgun-based AOW would be ideal for home defense. In the end, simply having an accessible weapon is half the battle in one's ability to defend their home from intruders.
LW) Some of your firearms have beautiful aftermarket finishes. Which among these finshes do you like best?
KL) Hard chrome. In fact, that's the only aftermarket finish on any of my firearms. Everything else is factory-applied.
LW) What is it about Del Fatti holsters that you like so well?
KL) The workmanship and attention to detail. I specifically like his ISP-SS holster with the Slotted Pad belt attachment. The holster is no bigger than it needs to be, and the Slotted Pad belt attachment protrudes very little.
LW) You also have many Busse knives. What attracts you to those items?
KL) I am attracted to Busse Combat knives due to their hard-use nature, and the fact that they hold an edge for a long time. Busse Combat also stands behind their knives. I also like other brands, such as Randall Made, Scott Cook, Chris Reeve, and others.
[- on hunting]
LW) What game do you enjoy hunting?
KL) I hunt prairie dogs with my dad, who is 74, in Spring or Summer, sometimes both. I hunt pronghorn antelope in Fall. I am interested in both because the shooting distances are generally long, usually 250 yards are further. Pronghorn antelope are also North America's fastest land mammal, so there is inherent challenge in hunting them.
LW) Where are some of your favorite locations to hunt?
KL) Wyoming and South Dakota.
LW) What arms and cartridges do you prefer to use while hunting?
KL) I favor .204 Ruger for prairie dogs, and have been using 6.5x55 SE for pronghorn antelope for the past four years. The rifles that I use are made by Cooper Arms, which is located in Montana.
[- on the arts]
LW) What music (genres / artists) do you like to listen to? What exactly is it about that music that resonates with you?
KL) I would have to say that my favorite artists are Tangerine Dream, Rush, and TCM.
LW) What visual art do you like?
KL) Photography.
LW) What are some of your favorite movies?
KL) I very much enjoyed "Avatar" and the new "Star Trek." Both resonated with me extraordinarily well.
LW) What foods do you enjoy? Do you prefer to cook at home or eat at restaurants?
KL) I like pastas, pizza, anything on the grill, and salads. We eat out very little, and do most of our cooking at home.
LW) What was the last book you read? Did you like it?
KL) I don't read much in terms of books or novels. Most of what I read tends to be reference manuals, where I read specific pages or chapters. I would say that I do more writing than reading. (In retrospect, I probably should have learned how to type.)
LW) Did you see "Terminator : Salvation?" Did you think it rocked?
KL) I enjoyed that movie, and while I thought it added to the "Terminator" story line, I felt that "Avatar" rocked much more.
[- Other topics :]
LW) What's your favorite comic strip?
KL) I really don't have any.
LW) What fiscal and monetary policies do you favor with regard to the USA?
KL) No comment.
LW) Do you believe that computer programming is an essential skill for all knowledge workers?
KL) Computer programming is skill for those who develop software. Most people wouldn't benefit from this, unless they need this skill, and can practice it. The ability to use a simpler scripting language can benefit a broader range of people.
LW) Do you have a garden /.grow your own food?
KL) Yes.
LW) What is the matter with kids these days?
KL) Of course, it depends on the kids. For those with issues, I am sure it is related to how their parents raised them. Instilling respect would go a long way to raising kids better.
LW) How should the balance between freedom and security be handled with respect to US domestic policy?
KL) No comment.
LW) What's the most effective pickup line?
KL) No comment.
LW) What do you think about the recent move to deep-six the NASA moon mission and greatly scale back public space exploration?
KL) Say, maybe it is NASA's way to acknowledge that we have been contacted by extraterrestrial life.
LW) In your opinion, does time exist as a fundamental feature of our universe, or is its apparently unstoppable arrow merely an artifact of consciousness? What is the nature of time?
KL) Time is clearly a constant and does not stop, but the nature of our existence makes its flow seem relative. And, our ability to preserve memories allows us to transcend the flow of time, relative to events that have already taken place.
LW) Do you believe reality is fundamentally deterministic or indeterminate / stochastic?
KL) Our reality is based on our perception of the universe, which is based on principles and rules. So, I would vote for the former.
LW) Do you play any musical instruments?
KL) I played percussion in high school. That's about it. I prefer to appreciate music, not create it.
LW) Do you think that the present educational system in the US is adequate?
KL) No educational system is adequate.
LW) Can folks contact you on Twitter? If so, what's your Twitter name?
KL) Of course. My Twitter name is ken_lunde. I am also on Facebook.
LW) Do you believe that humans will continue to exist after the Earth and our Sun are gone in a few billion years?
KL) Given our tendency toward self-destruction, probably not. Interestingly, I believe that humans and other life on this planet were engineered. In other words, something created us.
LW) Thanks very much for taking the time to answer some of our questions.
Here's the problem with reggae : its primary adherents in North America are hippies. Upper-class white kids with belabored dreadlocks. You know, morons. We don't much cotton to hippies here at Latewire, so therefore we don't really listen to reggae. Calypso, ska, rocksteady, dub, dancehall, jungle, yes. Reggae no. In case you hadn't noticed, it's not standard procedure here to 'lively up oneself.'
Recently, I've begin to reexamine this prejudice. In a car I rented recently, there was the newfangled satellite radio, so I tuned to the reggae station (called, of course, "the Joint" BAAAARF). I heard, in rapid succession, gritty, forboding tunes by Max Romeo, Culture, and Peter Tosh that I realized were not only non-hippie, but also objectively good. I began to think : why do I readily accept reggae as a part of a rap tune (cf. KRS-One, Ice Cube, Run-DMC) or neopsychedelia (Massive Attack, Tricky), but refuse to countenance it on its own? It's because hippies stink. But I realized that it's not th' fault of th' reggae artists themselves that their Stateside champions are these kinds of RABS poser slime :
So after coming to grips with this simple PR disaster, I gave a bunch of reggae tunes a listen and liked many of them. Toots, Max Romeo ("Lucifer!"), Dennis Brown, and th' standard output of Horace Andy all met with my approval. I've been a fan of Damian Marley since his breakout hit "Welcome to Jamrock," and I guess that while I've considered him dancehall because of his toasting style, th' music has more to do with traditional reggae than I was willing to admit to myself. One thing about Jamaican music (best typified in dub, which is always great) is that it nearly always includes crushingly heavy bass, which is something we could all use more of in our lives.
So, take some Thorazine, stay in yr house, and give some real dire Jamaican reggae a listen. Not any kind of bullcrap California pansy stoner rubbish, either. You might find as I did that reggae isn't just for $%&holes any more.
As a special treat, here's the original (rocksteady) version of one of everybody's favorite Massive Attack cover tune, "Man Next Door." This gem written by John Holt (also of "The Tide Is High" fame) is here performed by his group the Paragons. Nice wailing stuff.
For crying out loud though -- can anybody give me a reasonably sane explanation of what in blazes "Tu Sheng Peng" is?
BONUS! Here's the hard-to-find uncensored version of "Welcome to Jamrock." Funnyman a get dropped like a bad habit, apparently.
This is a public service announcement to let all Latewire readers know that English producer Burial is the best music artist of the milennium.
On Burial's two records, "Burial" and "Untrue," switchblade trebles and gut-shifting bass duke it out in a spare reverberating mix, while plaintive samples moan and wail. The musical style is often called "dubstep," a direct descendent of another non-crummy UK music genre, drum + bass. But where drum + bass is rapid and and cerebral, Burial and the best dubstep are wobbly, 140-bpm lacerations that are at least as suited to solo-dolo sulking about as they are dancefloors. The tunes are simultaneously soothing and jarring, and their gloomy crispness makes any day feel like a March rain. Like, imagine if drum + bass had a kid with early Massive Attack, and you're getting there.
SPACEAPE
Burial's music has more feeling and creativity in one phrase than all th' garbage emo-metal and faceless Starbucks drug-casualty music put together. Chill them #$%^&* out and listen to this music now. It will help.
Here's another tune that saves lives in a very different way -- 2006's "Yeah Yeah" by Bodyrox. Beware prudes! Sex and nudity within, also amplifier desecration.
STOP DYING IT'S NOT TOO LATE TO GET YOUR SHAPE BACK (7,420)
The pop-critic establishment is already busy disparaging th' new release from Massive Attack, the English group responsible for welding R+B, dub, and pure burning hopeless doom into a mesmeric sound that rips lives out of living humans. The previous release under the Massive Attack name, "100th Window" was a grody platter of hot sleep garbage, so my hopes weren't all that high for this record, th' geographically-named "Heligoland." However, after listening to this joint on repeat for the past week, I can say with confidence that the critics hating on it either haven't listened to it (I'm looking at you, Pitchfork) or have no idea what Massive Attack are supposed to be about (hey bloggers!). The raw fact is that this record is exactly what a Massive Attack record is supposed to be : adventurous, unpredictable, and capable of sending the listener into a melancholic reverie.
Pitchfork's review goon intones that Massive Attack fail to 'engage current music' with this release, rattling off a list of recent genres like 'dubstep' and 'UK funky' in an attempt to sound hip and asking why th' band doesn't do something in relation to those styles. This is silly. Massive Attack has never been interested in following or 'engaging' current music trends, they are in the business of creating fresh music styles. Suggesting that the band should have incorporated obvious dubstep references into this album is like saying that "Blue Lines" should have had acid house splashed all over it.
While it wouldn't be fair to say that this is a retro album, the 90s do creep up pretty big here. The vocal spots by Blur's Damon Albarn and Tricky's Martina Topley-Bird, th' recklessly unpolished beats, th' wild assemblage of genres. In fact, th' record that sounds most like "Heligoland" is Tricky's own "Nearly God," wherein th' mush-mouthed master of paranoia explored all kinds of new craggy musical forms in underproduced, rough, and totally enveloping tunes. That same kind of punchy excitement is here on "Heligoland" as well.
It kicks off with "Pray for Rain," a number sung by that guy from TV On The Radio. This tune is strongly reminiscent of "Remain in Light" era Talking Heads or classic Peter Gabriel. A vaguely witch-doctor midtempo loop prods Tunde Adebimpe along in his lyrics which evoke some kind of weird tribal ritual. The climax of this tune has a cache of lyrical gems like "Drops on rocks fall fast and fleeting… hidden laws unleash their meaning." The vibe is tense and anticipatory, rather than tense and paranoid. Some complain that this tune is overlong, but in fact, it's just right for sending you zoning into a harsh rude daydream.
Th' next cut, "Babel" is a little jarring with its fast straight drum-and-bass loop and more Talking Heads guitars, but then Topley-Bird's sly, streetworn voice floats in and recalls in tempo and knowing authority her performance of "Black Steel in The Hour of Chaos" from 1995. The skittering drums might be distracting for some (they're certainly quicker than anything else Massive Attack has done), but it's no cookie-cutter Metalheadz beat, and the twitchy speed creates an ill mood.
The sole vocal appearance by much-needed Daddy G follows, on posse mope "Splitting the Atom." This is a crypto-rocksteady tune that is just glum enough while also grooving steadily. Horace Andy thankfully reappears for the first time on this track.
No lead-in could prepare the listener for "Girl I Love You," a generically-titled song that is by any measure, the equal of any other Massive Attack tune. With Horace Andy's plaintive voice floating over an urgent-sounding rock bass and terrifying horn chart, this tune immediately ensnarls you like a barbed wire tumbleweed. Th' uncertianty and fear in Andy's voice is almost unbearable, and this tune has the kind of dynamics that are bound to blow an addled mind.
Next up is th' unfairly-maligned "Psyche," a tune so minimalist that it borders on Minimalism. Again, Topley-Bird mics it here, with good lyrics and her characteristic after-hours tone. Some folks find this jam overly simplistic or boring, but if you ask me, it's kind of fresh and has a deep structure that really sneaks up on you.
The "Flat of the Blade" is next, wherein some guy from a band called Elbow proceeds to maximally creep out over a very Bjorky percussion and drone track. I'm not a fan of this individual's singing, but the track gets gold (or is it grey?) stars for spooky atmosphere.
Two of th' remaining tracks, "Rush Minute" and "Atlas Air" are showcases for Robert "3D" Del Naja, who as on "100th Window" abandons rapping for a strange kind of flat-toned singing. The difference between these tracks and the mess that is "100th Window" is that the actual music here has a lot more ideas to offer and is not pandering. Both of these cuts are heavy on synth elements and have a kind of weary New Wave feel. The fact is that 3D sounds better rapping after all and is kind of stiff and unswinging in his production, but the tunes are still worth listening to.
The other two tracks, "Paradise Circus" and "Saturday Come Slow" are stone brilliant. The former is a ghostly exercise in chills featuring Goth poster girl Hope Sandoval. This jam has the kind of shifting, spare, slow beat that really gets those mope juices flowing. "Saturday Come Slow" is a love dirge right at the cusp of bleak sentiment like "Dissolved Girl." Damon Albarn lets loose some of the most sorrowful wails he's done since "Tender" dropped; this limey is hurting! People tend to associate Albarn with puckish Britpop pogoing and general punkitude, but anyone who's seen him do "This is a Low" or "No Distance Left to Run" will know that he can really tear up that sad mic thing. His ragged voice telegraphs profound heartbreak better than nearly anyone else.
I think that the bitter mistake all these reviewers make is in trying to compare this joint to "Mezzanine." "Mezzanine" isn't an album, it's a giant shard of volcanic glass that plunges straight into the soul of anyone who dares to listen to it. It's monolithic, oppressive, and non-reproducible. Comparing anything to "Mezzanine" is like saying "Oh well this roadside ditch isn't as cool as th' Marianas Trench." Stupid. "Mezzanine" is an artifact of its time that could not be any other way or from another time; any attempt to recreate or follow it now would result in abject self-parody. People tend to forget now, but Massive Attack's other two classic albums -- "Blue Lines" from 1991 and "Protection" from 1994 -- were totally different from each other and from "Mezzanine," and took a lot of getting used to. i remember how people would talk smack about "Protection" when they bought it after having loved and crumbled to th' narcobludgeon of "Mezzanine," only to come back two months later and crow about how brilliant it was when they finally 'got' it. So, like those other two classic albums, give this one some time and repeat listens late at night, and I think then that all th' irrelevant comparisons will drop away and you'll be able to soak in this record properly. It's funny, just today I was rapping with my pal and CERN inhabitant monster -- he said "I've listened to 'Mezzanine' hundreds of times, but can't really name a favorite song." It's just not possible to cleave up that LP -- it's a complete and matchless monument of psychedelia.
"Heligoland" is something different but equally needed : a collection of diverse fresh tunes, fearlessly chosen and correctly sung. Massive Attack have refused to try to replicate the hazy druglike syrup of of 1998 and instead are exploring a quicker-stepping, more raw style that demonstrates how unsettling sounds don't always come at plodding molasses tempos. I strongly recommend that all freaks, goths, and sad pandas obtain a copy of this; it's adventuresome, worth your brainspace, and an antidote to the stale. Wait until 2 or 3am, sit back with spooky lights on, and devolve to th' destructive sounds of this joint. Now, if only it came with a reason to get out of bed th' next day.. (17,665)
What a terrible and brutish era it is that we live in. With the last credible mote of hope having been shuffled off to the abattoir, all we can offer you is this fleeting reminder that not everything has always sucked :
In old Army parlance, a "forlorn hope" was a band of soldiers sent off on a mission that was deemed necessary but presumed suicidal. We're th' forlorn hope. We're being sent out into a burning hail of deathspittle in an attempt to wrench humanity's future from the weasel class. The kicker is, of course, that we know there is no future. The weasel class and we are going to shriek and wail together, in broken sorrowful awe of the horror we've hewn out for ourselves.
On th' positive side, th' new Massive Attack record is really excellent -- expect a review of that puppy tomorrow! (10,193)
There's a thundering hailstorm in Phoenix today, sending drops of frozen hate clattering across the skylight and beating the life out of weak trees. On the outskirts of my peripheral vision, I caught a glimpse of something white and jagged -- the future.
Life as a human right now is akin to having woken up inside the chute of a woodchipper. We may not even recall how we got inside the woodchipper in the first place. The one thing that is clear : the inevitability of the blades.
A feeling like saws chewing into my neck. The sounds of weeping just outside my door. And a cold light knife into my pupil reminds me : This is a world divorced from hope.
When facing a suffocated reality of nonexistent future, what do you do? Here are some options :
1) Lie down and wait quietly for the ice weasels to come. 2) Cry until you're too tired to cry any longer, then die. 3) Fight until death. 4) Put on heavy metal records and rock out for as long as possible.
Now, I don't know which of these sounds most attractive, or which you, the reader, may already be doing. I choose option #4. Here's why :
* Metal music is brain floss. * Metal music improves blood flow to the face. * Metal music is not a norm. * Metal music has no sympathy for your suffering. * Metal music remembers when you were only an animal. * Metal music hasn't heard about your regrets, but it can drench them in molten @#$%^& * Metal music will survive long after the Universe is toast. * Metal music recognizes your true form and can restore it if lost. * Metal music connects you with that aspect of youself that you forgot about. * Metal music is truth erupting from a sea of lies.
There's no future. But with metal music, the present can be made to rock. In these bleak and doomed days, everybody looks for help. Some go to shrinks, some watch TV, and some try in futility to numb the pain with drugs. Well, you all are welcome to your 'cheese' heroin, 'lean,' and amphetamines. I'm an Earache man myself. (17,442)
Every day I wake up, make coffee, frantically choke it down like it's the antidote to some horrible poison, put on my tie, collect myself, get in the car, and decide what to listen to. This process can take several minutes, and has actually contributed to my baseline unpunctuality on several occasions.
The iPod was created in 2001, was in everyone's pocket by 2002, so by 2004 when GM designed my shitty mid-level sedan, these clever motherfuckers realized that future must be in these "Compact Discs." As a consequence of their level prescience, I have no way of plugging in an iPod into my factory radio, and am relegated to either using a shitty FM broadcaster or burning CDs. My car gets about 130 degrees during the day, so every CD I burn will invariably end up scorched and tossed in a fit of inconsolable rage into my back seat. I think the last time I cleaned my car I had about 30 back there.
The morning search for music in my car that will actually play used to be one of torture and compromise, but no longer! 2 months ago, out of hurried decision making and lack of ideas, I put together a compilation of a few albums I'd barely heard before--All by The Black Keys. I've listened to them almost exclusively ever since... And the volume knob keeps turning clockwise.
Sometimes I get embarrassed when I have passengers inside the car when the engine starts and the radio blurts out a second or two of 200 watts of heavily distorted guitar and incomprehensible lyrics (makes no difference, it's totally about the sound). I don't even realize I keep the radio that loud anymore. The last person I had in my car karate-chopped me in the neck out of surprise and fury--she thought I had put the volume up on purpose specifically to scare the shit out of her. Sure I was laughing, but I'm sure I had a deluge of shame just oozing out of my eyeballs down my cheeks.
My interactions with other people have suffered greatly. After my morning drive to the office, I usually end up pissing off at least one patient before 9AM. I can't help it though, The Black Keys are like some sort of musical crack-rock I just can't get enough of.
The worst part is, as my hearing fades away, the newly distorted sound emerging through the shattered cochlea and brain-stabbing tinnitus ends up making their music even better! Through my hearing loss and the volume gain of The Black Keys, I feel like I'm rapidly approaching a state of Nirvana. Maybe like that guy in Pi that finally figured out that mathematical formula to the universe. That movie had a happy ending, right?
This is a ridiculously awesome cover of She Said She Said by The Beatles.
Although the Cunningham living legacy plan aims to preserve its founder's vision intact as custodian of his intellectual property, that does not mean the choreography will be frozen forever, like an artifact of the past. As a choreographer, Cunningham always welcomed new technology and pioneered countless innovations. Collaboration, chance, and change were the very cornerstones of his approach.
Although the sun has set on his career, a new dawn inspired by his achievement may follow. "Ideas," as the artist Robert Rauschenberg, Cunningham's collaborator, said, "are not real estate."
Neither is intellectual property. It could be a site where past art is not just preserved but fertilizes future growth.
"Dancing is a process that never stops," Cunningham said when announcing his living legacy plan, "and should not stop if it is to stay alive and fresh."
There was a mention of Creative Commons in the article's discussion of copyright issues. Cunningham was one of the few major choreographers to have licensed his work under a Creative Commons license. As an advocate of Creative Commons licenses, I applaud Cunningham's generosity to our collective artistic heritage. However, I should also note as a comparison that in most folk dancing traditions, sharing and open collaboration are the norms– the idea of ownership is fluid and oftentimes forms and techniques are owned and transmitted collectively.
<tangent>Another scenario to consider: Michael Jackson "owned" the moonwalk in the sense that it is a dance move popularly associated with him. But what if he literally owned it as intellectual property? Would the Jackson estate be going after the unauthorized moonwalkers in the Eternal Moonwalk tribute site? </tangent>
The CSM article did not mention Cunningham's life partner and frequent artistic collaborator, composer John Cage. The two men's work similarly combined demanding detailed instructions with indeterminacy and chance operations such as the rolling of dice. The Cage estate has recently gone after what it considered copyright infringements against Cage's (in)famous 4'33" ("The Silent Piece").
The big Zen koan question then becomes, is randomness and silence copyrightable?
The score of 4'33" instructs the performer(s) to not play their instruments for four minutes and thirty-three seconds. But the piece is not really silent. As I have previously written:
The piece is made up of the hum of the air-conditioning in the hall, the ruffle of programs, the coughing of an audience member; it is an invitation, an invocation, to listen to the ambient sounds all around us. Cage rejects the distinction between musical and non-musical sounds, and embraces all sounds, regardless of the performers intent, to be potentially musical. In doing so, Cage completes the break from the history of classical composition and offers up a new model for music in which the primary act of for the composer and for the performer is not to make music, but to listen.
When a critic told Cage that anybody could have written 4'33", Cage responded with his usual charming wit, "but nobody else did." There is no doubt that the provocative and performative nature of 4'33" is an act of creativity, if not genius. At the same time, one could also argue that because the piece is about listening to the sounds that exist in the performance space even if no instruments are being played, then David Tudor's "non-playing" of the piano at the premiere, as well as the noises generated by the audience members present, were all integral parts of the piece. In that sense, the performer and the audience share a kind of authorship of the piece. They all 'performed' 4'33" and made it what it was. By elevating the role of listeners, Cage was in effect bringing back a participatory, interactive element that had been lost in Western "classical" music.
Cage's 4'33" also represents a break from the idea of Romantic authorship, where "an author is perceived to be the source of original ideas, transforming the world around him through his own genius" (Authorship Collective). Romantic authorship would claim that the roll of the composer is to create music out of silence. But Cage's point is that silence does not exist.
One of the inspirations for 4'33" was Cage's experience in an anechoic chamber at Harvard University. An anechoic chamber is a soundproofed room designed in such a way that all the surfaces in the room will absorb all sounds made in the room, rather than bouncing them back as echoes.
Cage entered the chamber expecting to hear silence, but as he wrote later, he "heard two sounds, one high and one low. When I described them to the engineer in charge, he informed me that the high one was my nervous system in operation, the low one my blood in circulation." Cage had gone to a place where he expected there to be no sound, yet sound was nevertheless discernible. He stated "until I die there will be sounds. And they will continue following my death. One need not fear about the future of music." (Wikipedia)
Composers cannot create music out of silence because silence does not exist. Even if it did, unless we are deaf, it is impossible to perceive it. Cage's 4'33", like Duchamp's ready-mades, is a kind of "found art," comprised of environmental sounds that already exist. We are all constantly surrounded by sounds, they are unavoidable elements of our environment. The role of composers and musicians is to organize and present those sounds, which is exactly what remix and mash-up artists do today when they create new music from the found sounds and cultural artifacts found in our environment. In a way, the "found-sound" composition 4'33" is an Ur-remix, a remix of (non)silence and of reality itself, and John Cage an avant la lettre master of the mash-up.
All of this has inspired my latest composition: 433 trees falling in the forest with nobody to hear the sound. (C) 2009 LEESEAN. All Rights Reserved. Try anything and I'll SUE YOUR ASS LIKE THE RIAA (17,600)
If this wasn't an exhausting, will-leaching demonic twister of a week, I'll be a monkey's uncle. And since none of my siblings are married to monkeys (insert Italian joke here), that's obviously not going to happen. Therefore, it was just such a week. [ed note : hey, at least sixguns.com is back on line!]
Sometimes, I like to briefly take my mind off the griddle of dread and concentrate on the few honest examples of true perfection that exist in our frail, tattered world. You know, things in which there is no element that could be removed or improved without corrupting the whole, where each minute part is as essential as a Maraschino cherry in a 'Shirley Temple'. Here's the short list :
- "Blazing Saddles" - Guacamole - Jesus
I want to talk about a few examples of real, actual perfection in my favorite entertainment medium, pop music. I'll start out with one that I think gets overlooked far too often : "The Rebirth Of Slick (Cool Like Dat)" by Digable Planets.
This track is so stoopid fresh that it kind of hurts. Sitting on top of a funky bass loop and crisp finger-popping are a def horn sample and some of the most architecturally-sound raps ever committed to tape. The cadence of the verses is simple, and the actual content of the lyrics just melts into the whole performance such that lines like "She innovates at the speed a cat naps" appear to be vital to the whole tune even though they don't make a whole lot of sense (note : this phenomenon is also seen with AC/DC tunes). Listening to this track is like watching a fast-motion video of cathedral being built. The pacing is tighter than 'Spanx' on a polar bear; rare is there a song at this relatively slow tempo that is so riveting and propulsive.
The whole insect schtick is a shade silly, but they are so assured in their delivery that it's hard to even get up enough psychological pluck to question or ridicule it, for fear that 'Ladybug' is going to poke her 'Cleopatra Jones' carbine right out of your iPod and lay waste to your poor hipster mug. One is even compelled to forgive 'Butterfly' for his dalliance in snooze-edge group Cherrywine by mere association with 'Doodlebug' when the latter utters the classic line : "Him? That's my man -- with the asteroid belt." Who among you isn't picturing his gesture from the immortal video when you hear that line?
"The Rebirth of Slick" is like a gun. It's powerful, and every piece in it is plum necessary. It can even protect you from harm by hostile folk and 'goblins.' Truly! Next time you feel threatened, just say "The rebirth of the slick like my gangsta stroll," and see if they don't turn tail.
Next time of "Hank Presents : Reasons to Live," we'll talk about the best music video of all time : "Mama Said Knock You Out." (Sorry, kids, it beats 'Thriller' by a country mile.) (21,958)
So you want to be a web super star, and blog large, go to myspace, no charge, comin’ up in the web, don’t troll nobody, gotta look over your facebook constantly. I remember the days when I didn’t know an instant message from a webpage, looking in a monitor, dreamin’ about downloadin’. The forum flamers. Changing credits. Illin’ with the web cam bots. Linking horrible things and whatever the anonymous deserves from me. Shit its funny how hilarious images manifest, and the names that be comin’ with it. Nevertheless, you gotta learn the html, but you don’t know about the tubes, worms, and donkey pron, ‘cause even animals get it on (the web). And losin’ some of your avatar in raids past, expansions gone by, hopefully it don’t manifest for Chinese gold farmer guys, megalomaniac and the elf attack don’t know how to act, shit deep, 48 hacker guerilla group has the internet feel, think they’re gonna hack the matrix but never will, ‘till they all cross over, still, fillin’ your head with fantasies, forum with me, show the l337 it takes to flame the noobies. You wanna be a web super star in the biz, and make sites for people who don’t know what html is, I wish it was all fun and games, but the monthly fees are high, and some can’t pay the way, feel trapped in a contract, what you bloggin’ about? IM me what happened when your connection fell out? The ISP you chose service is lapsing. No modem. No router. No dial up. No matter. No internet denizens of questionable gender, and everyone lies about their weight, they’re all fatter. So you wanna be a web super star? And blog large, go to myspace, no charge, comin’ up in the web, don’t troll nobody, gotta look over your facebook constantly. People see web stars, you know what I’m typin? But you still try and get out in the daylight like everybody else, you know, it’s a nice day, but its still outside away from your router range. Save your skin man, SPF is true. You’re pale, don’t take long to burn, you know what I’m typing? I mean, you got roll hacks in this game too. There’s gonna be another internet citizen comin’ out, blogging like me, flaming like me next year. I write and therefore purport to know this. It’ll be a 12 year old, spamming his lack of puberty in your ear, somebody else trying to offend the masses asses. You ever have wet dreams? Of makin’ it to Charley Sheen? Money shot, cock slapper on the LCD screen. You wanna facebook gently, keep it friendly, be a web star and always check who sent me goatse. You wanna have big epics, let me count a tick as another net ho done come on my page, first they get hits like they found a whole pile of fossilized Jesus shits, long as you don’t smell it’ll be ok, then you get flamed by the webmasters and trolls, internet things never stay the same way they began to roll, I read that some never get flamed to the fullest, that’s why fools end up snackin' on an internet bullet, think everything’s fine on the world’s time, see me on my laptop online with the power cord shine. So you wanna be a web super star, and blog large, go to myspace, no charge, comin’ up in the web, don’t troll nobody, gotta look over your facebook constantly. My own clan don’t know me, I’m surfing in a McDonalds, lonely, but thank Al Gore on whose internet I chill with my long distance homies. But sometimes I wish I was back on my homepage, but only no links or ads, they’re phony. Got to hit the net solely so the web bitches know me, I’m in the ether like an internet Maloney, and the trolls say that my own guild will pwn me, and the best way back is to keep your hands on the keys, never drop down to your knees, they’re too busy with their bitches to know how to blow me, they just want a Klingon, to ring on, and so on. Log on fall off – the internet ho’s fall off to the next web super star with no shame, give him a page and they’ll lie about their age, the same as the last ones who logged on before them, got hits started getting blocked, or worse still internet stalked. I warned him, assured him this web shit ain’t easy, take from meezy, sleazy websites want your credit cardeezy. They’re fucking the internet. So you wanna be a web superstar, and blog large, go to my space, no charge, comin’ up on the web, don’t troll nobody, gotta look over your facebook constantly. Inspiration courtesy of Cypress Hill. (26,019)
Artist: Jesse Sykes & the Sweet Hereafter Album: Like, Love, Lust & The Open Halls of the Soul Year: 2007 Label: Southern Lord Website: here Shows: 04/10/09 @ Tractor Tavern in Seattle, Washington feat. Marissa Nadler & Whiting Tennis DL Link: here Buy CD: here Buy Vinyl: here
A more rock album as opposed to the earlier one. Solid instrumentation and some polished lyrics. Vocals remain pretty much the same although in some songs it picks up a bit. The packaging of the vinyl edition is quite nice and makes for a worthy musical purchase as opposed to compact dicks which are guaranteed to stop working correctly the day after purchase and begin make noises like something from a Japanese forced insect rape porno movie everytime you play them. Not really much else to add, I'll throw up some other stuff in a bit. Spring break proved once again this year to be nothing more than a scantily clad cock tease.
In case you needed a bit of a preview:
Special thanks to Dr. Bob Dopplegopplegus. This one's for Gabby! (18,217)
This is a pretty decent album and something a little bit off the beaten path. I think this band would probably have flown right by most peoples radar if they hadn't done some work for the Boris & Sunn O))) collaboration back in '06. A nice blend of pop and country melodies punctuated by some quite fitting female vocals. The better songs are the ones which let the lyrics and vocals work their magic. It seems strange music to come from the Northwest, some of these songs would probably go better in a southern backdrop I'd assume. Some similarities between Lucinda Williams for sure, but the Richard and Linda Thompson album I Want To See The Bright Lights Tonight album also evokes something of a similar mood. The first two tracks are definately the best ones on this disc, while tracks 4 and 7 are the skippable ones. Everything in between ranges from good to decent, and really the album can be listened to ccompletely through without skipping anything with only a few annoying minutes. Some of this bands later albums are a bit more upbeat, but this one is really something of a gem in its own regard. From what I've gathered over the intertubes, Jesse Sykes & the Sweet Hereafter seem to perform live just as well if not better than they do in the studio, so definately check it out if you can. Some melancholic Northwestern tunes to help you all ride out this winter in true hibernator fashion.
Some more music maybe in the days to come, I've got a few more from this band and then Rocks in Rolls. (20,912)
"Take Sick and Die"
Original by Boyd Rivers
Additional lyrics and music by Hank
You're going to have to take sick and die, one of these days
You're going to have to take sick and die, one of these days
All the medicine you can buy,
All the doctors you can hire...
You'll still have to take sick and die one of these days
You're going to have to take sick and die, one of these days
You're going to have to take sick and die, one of these days
You can appeal to higher powers
Bargain with Jesus in small hours
But you'll have to take sick and die, one of these days
You're going to have to take sick and die, one of these days
You're going to have to take sick and die, one of these days
All precautions you can take
All that health food sure won't save you
From having to take sick and die
One of these days
You're going to have to take sick and die, one of these days
You're going to have to take sick and die, one of these days
You can live just right as rain
Never cause another living thing pain
But you'll still fall sick and die
One of these days
You don't have to go and live out in the wild
You don't have to try to connect with natural life
'Cause every thing under the sky
That grows, crawls, swims, or flies
Every life must fail and die
One of these days. (18,403)
[ed. note : the preferred pronunciation of the word "guitar" is as "git-are," with emphasis on the first syllable]
Those who have loved ones afflicted with the disease called 'guitar-playing' will know that it's an ailment comparable in social acceptability to leprosy. Guitar-players are universally shunned by healthy folks for many reasons : some hygienic, some economic, but most often because guitar-players are unable to shut up for even a second once they start yammering about pickups, fingerboard radii, and fret gauges.
For this reason, guitar-players are outcast from polite society and are ghettoized in appalling hovels known as 'guitar stores.' In reality, as can be easily ascertained by stopping by one of these establishments (bring your respirator!) and observing the conduct therein, virtually no transactions take place there, so the extent to which they can truly be called 'stores' is very limited. They are really akin to halfway houses, refugee camps, and alleys. In these benighted places, they guitar-players are free to jabber at each other with baseless opinion, half-cloaked lies, pathetic boasting, and meaningless parroting of guitar-industry propaganda. Like within the criminal flophouse, there is constant internecine struggle, secret hatred, and barely concealed malice amongst the denizens of guitar stores – each of the afflicted secretly wishes to demonstrate his own guitaristic superiority to the other. This bizarre competition to covertly determine who ‘sucks’ the least, while maintaining the pseudo-easygoing atmosphere that guitar-players habitually and hypocritically create, has earned guitar-playing the sobriquet of ‘finger-sports’ amongst the British cognoscenti.
Guitar-players are notable for their crypto-religious adherence to lore and myth – especially as pertains to their equipment. Since they, as a group, have no grasp whatsoever of physics and engineering, the fields of study that actually produce and govern the performance of their equipment, they rely instead on received knowledge that inevitably originates from old dope-addled hacks who look at guitar sound as a kind of voodoo magic. I encountered a fine example of this on a recent venture into the belly of the beast. I was with some aspiring victims of the guitar-playing plague, perusing the walls of a local ‘guitar store,’ and selected a contagion (this is the proper term for a guitar) for one of my buddies to try out.
The balding shill whose job it was to attempt to sell guitars to the penniless informed us that the construction method used to build this particular contagion, ‘the glue-in neck method,’ was vastly and inherently superior to all other construction methods (such as the ‘bolt-on’ and ‘neck-through’ methods, for those keeping score!) , particularly with regard to the guitar’s ability to sustain notes. Now, ignoring the actual acoustic science that exists on the subject, there remains a truly deep rift of opinion on this issue. For example, those guitar-players who favor the Fender style of guitar, such as James Burton, Brent Mason, and Richie Sambora, are wont to say that the ‘bolt-on’ technique employed by their preferred instruments is superior. As far as this clown’s statement is concerned, a casual listen to the performances of deceased ‘bolt-on’ adherents such as Jimi Hendrix and Stevie Vaughan will demonstrate that note sustain is just fine on instruments of this construction. How about the chubby whiner Billy Corgan, whose sustain is so lengthy that he probably leaves the studio between notes to shop for more Tim Burton-inspired apparel? This whole tiresome debate serves mainly to save guitar-players from having to think or talk about the actual notes they choose to play. Of course, most guitar-players have no idea what notes they’re playing, anyway, so that point is largely moot.
Wait, you say! Why is this author saying that he accompanied his buddy into the den of filth, rather than trying to steer the poor guy clear? The plain answer is that this author is one of the afflicted. Bear this in mind as you continue through this brief piece; imagine that you’re watching ’28 Days Later’ as narrated by one of the zombies.
Let’s look at another aspect of guitar construction that is the subject of wide an uninformed debate : weight. There is an army of guitar-players, particularly those with slavish devotion to the model of instrument named after genius player Les Paul, which avers that increased weight – even in excess of ten pounds – has a positive influence on guitar tone and also increases ‘sustain.’ This is stupid. When weights start to get in double-digit territory, that’s a serious burden to shoulder for any length of time – you might as well be carrying around a fully-loaded Squad Automatic Weapon or similar equipment. Imagine shouldering a gallon and a half of Sunny Delight for a three-hour set.
The ergonomics debate aside, preference for heavy guitars ignores the physical mechanisms by which guitars operate. A guitar, even an electric guitar, is an acoustic instrument that produces sound by amplifying the vibrations of a string that is held at a certain tension; this amplification is achieved when the neck and body of the guitar resonate with the vibration of the string. The string is at a fixed tension for a given pitch – that is, the string is only exerting so much force on the guitar when it vibrates, and this is the force that causes the sympathetic amplifying vibrations to occur. The more mass the string has to move (induce resonance in), the less resonance will be produced and fed back into the string for electronic amplification. Therefore, if increased resonance is desired – and it is – we should be looking to reduce mass, as this will allow the string to accomplish more work with the force it is able to exert. It has been argued that since the electric guitar’s amplification process essentially only amplifies string vibration and not acoustic body vibration, the object of guitar construction should be not to make the instrument resonate as a whole, but rather to reflect vibration directly back into the string from its anchor points at the nut and bridge by means of making the neck and body reflective but acoustically damped, as we see in heavy guitars that have a lot of finish and glue in them. This viewpoint is misguided, however – the string in fact re-uptakes the acoustic motion from the entire body.
One has only to observe the difference between, say, a violin and a modern, slave-made gluebucket electric guitar to see where the manufacturing has gone a-gley. A violin weighs 15 ounces and will deafen you if you sit to close to it. A slave guitar weighs 11 pounds and you can’t hear the thing at all unplugged, and when plugged in, it sounds tinny and thin. Even the common slave-made acoustic guitar will generally weigh in at six pounds or more, and its voice will be dwarfed by properly-made acoustic instruments like violins and banjos. Why, we ask ourselves, are banjos so loud and annoying? It’s because their resonating surface – a skin or drum head – weighs very little and therefore transmits, rather than absorbs, most of the energy imparted to it by the string. The string can easily move it. Contrast this with the resonating surface of a crummy Les Paul : two inches of glue-soaked plywood covered in ten coats of paint goo.
Now, clearly, we don’t want a guitar to sound like a banjo, and we also don’t want the solid-body electric guitar to be so resonant that it feeds back uncontrollably. The point here is the trend toward heavier, more heavily finished, more veneered, and generally more damped guitar designs is folly and goes very far to explain why every single emo band on the radio today has an identical, mushy, dead guitar tone. Compare for example the muffled guitar tone of ‘Fall Out Boy’ or ’My Chemical Romance,’ whose guitarists favor heavy guitars, to the equally-distorted but much more detailed and lively sound of Frank Black or the guy from Blur, who prefer lightweight guitars.
Now, there may be some afflicted who will cry ‘Bias! Clearly this author is and advocate of Fender guitars and a detractor of The Gibson!” This is untrue. While Fender designs have the potential to be lighter and more resonant that, say, the Gibson Les Paul, this is far from consistently the case. For example, one of the contributors to this site possesses an excellent Gibson SG that weighs less than seven pounds and is notably unencumbered by a goopy finish, and sounds like a living thing. On the other hand, I personally hefted a Fender Telecaster at local ‘guitar shop’ that couldn’t have weighed less than twelve pounds – an utter brick. Correct – that is, light – guitar weight is possible only when the correct, properly-dried wood is chosen and then put together with as little heavy damping glue as possible, and finished with a minimum of synthetic goop. Guitars with shiny plastic finishes are going to sound dead, as are guitars that are made from many pieces of wood and glued together.
There are guitar makers out there who do their best to educate the public about the reality of what makes guitars sound like they do, and what techniques can be used to improve their sound. Two such makers are Ken Parker, who led the march toward lighter guitars in the 90s, and Robert Novak, who is able to convincingly articulate the effect of scale length (the string’s vibrational length) on guitar sound. (Pro tip : Scale length is the single biggest determinant of a guitar’s fundamental tone!)
Unfortunately for the public, who is forced to listen to the output of guitar players as they bash and mewl away on the radio, Internet and TV, guitar players are too stupid to read the treatises of these or other well-informed makers, and instead just want the same guitar that the guy from their favorite band plays. This perpetuates the cycle of poor design and guitars-as-furniture. Though, looking at the way my own furniture is constructed and finished, I’d rather that guitar makers did indeed take their cues from cabinetmakers, instead of General Motors, who seems to dictate the bulk of finishing and styling cues on modern instruments.
Again, we return to the violin as an example. Now, a fine violin looks very nice, but it doesn’t look like a poly-finished tiger maple-and-wenge armoire from the 80s boudoir of a cocaine boss, nor does it look like the impressive laminated shoulder stock of a presentation-grade target rifle. The armoire and the rifle are made to be eye-popping lifestyle accessories calculated to impress the observer, whereas the violin is made to produce a pleasing sound for those who can hardly see it, if they can see it at all. Sadly, most of today’s guitars that don’t look like cars tend to have more in common, appearance-wise, with gaudy accessories than with real instruments. They are made to impress the looker, rather than thrill the listener. This is wack.
To those poor souls afflicted with the disease of guitar-playing : stop buying guitars for their value as eye candy and start really listening to how instruments sound. If you wish to sound like something other than a bee soaked in turpentine, you need to seek out a guitar that is rich, lively, and responsive in tone. Do not audition guitars though digital effects or heavy distortion – you must consider the real, raw voice of the guitar. If it sounds good unadorned, it’ll sound good with whatever garbage sound processing your crummy style demands. But if it sounds wimpy and dead in its natural state, you can be assured that you’re going to sound like ‘Altar Bridge’ when you pile on the effects and saturation. Stop listening to baseless jabber talk and hoary myth, and start listening to the sound.
Once you’ve learned to choose an instrument that sounds good, I’ll publish my next column, which excoriates your technique and note choice. Happy recovery from your fellow ward inhabitants at Latewire! (16,663)
Here's th' text of th' best spiritual written since 1950, Larry Sparks' "The Testing Times." To my knowledge and surprise, this has never been transcribed. Note that most of this could equally be an Iron Maiden lyric.
The testing times
Are just ahead
For the children of the King :
Just press along
And do not dread
But pray, and shout and sing
The time of sorrow
It will come
When the beast shall arise
And set his god upon the throne
To deceive the blinded eye
And what that beast
May be to me
No mortal can tell
But if we do not take his mark
We can not buy or sell.
Our children, they
May cry for help
And some of us will die
But, praise the Lord
I'll trust in one
Who rules the range on high
His children he
Will not forsake
And when he hears his own crying out
In agony
The Son will leave his throne
His angels He will bring with Him
And send them East and West
And North and South
To gather in
The ones that stood with Him
Oh won't you come, and go with me
The transportation's free
Christ Jesus paid the debt for all
On dark Mount Calvary (15,737)
There are two groups that have gone by the name of "The Grief Brothers." One is a bunch of old geezers from Wales who play "[their] own brand of country and rock." The other, the real, Grief Brothers were lightning rod interpreters of the American songbook and our best alco-folk duo. This is about the real Grief Brothers, whose demise in 2007 left a smoldering crater in the roots music scene.
Bobby and Nicodemus Grief moved from their home in Duluth after a bad drought and several scrapes with the law had made their household unable to support the growing family. Bobby in particulary was unsuited for Duluth's hardscrabble rural lifestyle due to a fragile constitution he'd been left with after a miraculous resuscitation from still-birth that earned him his nickname "Stillborn Bobby Grief." Bobby and Nicodemus, the oldest boys, decided to strike out on their own and try their hand at earning a living with the songs they'd learned at their parent's knee. Hearing that jobs and music were plentiful in Arizona, they sold off everything but their guitars and caught a Greyhound bus for Phoenix. Working odd jobs and playing in their apartment at night, they were discovered by Dave Stevens, a field recordist who worked as a cop and had been called to respond to one of many noise complaints against the Grief brothers. When he found them, they were drunk, playing the most unique, toe-tapping, and wrenching version of "Long Black Veil" he'd ever heard. He got his recording machine out of his police cruiser, and the rest is history.
Over the course of a few years, the Grief Brothers recorded a massive catalogue of songs ranging from folk gospels like "Peace in the Valley" to original drinking laments like "Faceplant City." Their early sessions were collected as "Introducing the Grief Brothers in True Stereo." The "True Stereo" title came from Steven's use of a single live stereo setup to record the GBs -- no overdubs or other studio trickery, just the brothers live and inebriated from their tiny living room in real stereo sound. Many of the songs were prefaced by live converstional introductions that ranged from the acrimonious ("Runaway") to the humorous (as on their now-classic reclaimation of "Love Hurts"). Stevens hired Phil Jacobs to put the "True Stereo" album up on the Internet at http://GriefBrothersUSA.com as a teaser for the planned full LP "Going Places," which featured some old favorites such as "Weary Hobo" and more stunning, raw originals. Fuelled by whisky and a desire to capture songs nearly lost in the tide of slick contemporary country radio and plodding arena-emo, the Griefs blazed a rocking trail with two pounding acoustic guitars and quirky unison singing. Appearances on Ten Thousand Percent Radio brought them to a wider audience in the Internet community.
The Grief Brothers had one of the most distinctive styles in music, and one that set them apart from other acts in the various genres they were lumped into, from "Alt-country" to "Folk-edge." Bobby's deep, soulful voice and chiming guitar meshed with Nicodemus' percussive chording, unusual spooky solos, and backing vocals to create a powerful unified sound that only sibling acts can produce. With clear ancestry in the Louvin Brothers, Everly Brothers,and the Carter Family, the Grief Brothers modernized guitar folk and galvanized it with an uptempo power.
Just as the Grief Brothers were gaining recognition and momentum as America's best alco-folk act, a cascade of tragedy struck the Grief camp.
In late February 2006, Phil Jacobs was arrested on charges stemming from a questionable real estate deal in 2003. This put the Grief Brothers website in a stasis. Then, Nicodemus suffered a bad fracture of his left pinky during a basketball game, leaving him in a cast and unable to churn out his distinctive block chords for three months, which halted work on "Going Places." Just as they had begun to resume work, Stevens married his childhood sweetheart Betsy Mae Gibbon, and on her insistence moved back to Scranton to raise a family. Without a webmaster, recordist, or any funds, the Grief Brothers seemed dead in the water, and their fans gave up on them after a few months of inactivity.
A ray of hope shone through when Nicodemus got a raise to $8.00 per hour at his warehouse job, and soon they had enough money to hire Ed James of Skull Hill Records, a record producer who had worked with collegiate blues phenom Avant Johnson, and webmaster Tim Frank.
Thanks to James' excellent work on "Weary Hobo," the Grief Brothers had another hit and were ready to play a few paid gigs to shore up their reputation (which had been based solely on the free performances they gave for drifters in the park and on their Web site). They bought matching blond Rickenbacker guitars and planned to "go electric" on their next record, the Bakersfield-influenced platter 'Hot Cats On Top.'
This revival was doomed. "Stillborn" Bobby Grief was killed in February 2007 under terrible and truly awful circumstances. An allegorical account written by a fan at Ten Thousand Percent can be found on that site. Bobby's tragic and untimely death earned him one last bit of fame : "Stillborn" Bobby Grief is the only folk artist known to have died twice.
After Bobby's death, Nicodemus moved to Scottsdale to become a sign painter, vowing to abandon music forever as he had been abandoned by his G_d. (Later, Nicodemus was reconciled with his G_d and came to see Bobby's death as the calling home of a suffering soul. However, the bitterness of losing his brother drove Nicodemus further into drink and he never picked up a guitar again.) Ed James' Skull Hill Records, having invested most of its capital in bringing the GBs back, went under and was bought by Recombinant.
Today, the Grief Brothers are remembered mainly for taking "Love Hurts" back from the plodding Scots Nazareth and for their original songs "Why Do We Drink?", "Faceplant City," and the powerfully ironic "Hideous *****." Their catalogue is deep with many other unique and inspiring interpretations, originals, and hilarious banter that needs to be rediscovered. (18,491)
I never understood that song (By Tool).. shouldn't it be 44 + 2?
I just read something that said it's based on the teachings of some moron named Drunvalo Melchizadek who thought that we were just a stepping stone between 44 chromosomes and the obviously superior 48 chromosomes (46 + 2 sex chromosomes). Something about how consciousness and sentience is tied into karyotype.
Yeah, too bad chromosome count has precisely dick to do with how "advanced" you are as a species. Large apes have 48 chromosomes and we lock them up in cages and poke them with sticks. Woops! I guess having more DNA (most of which is inactive anyway) doesn't make your species "more advanced," even from a Darwinian "he who ****s the most, wins" perspective (humans outnumber apes maybe 100:1).
Like many, many (many) Tool songs, this is about how religion is "wrong." Thanks guys, I'm sure evolution needed your ill-informed hackneyed lyrics to defend it against the ever-so dangerous Theory of Creationism.
I'm trying to figure out how creationism is supposed to be the keystone to theism in the first place. Do they really think that disproving an unrelated theory about genealogy is going to be a death blow to the beliefs of 90+% of the human race?
"What? Humanity didn't arise from a spontaneously spawned, gullible couple in some magic garden? Well this changes EVERYTHING!!"
The real tragedy is, they named themselves "Tool," which is pretty self-deprecating. It's fairly ineffective to call someone a douche when they're already calling themselves tool. (29,302)
Calling All Dawns is an album of orchestral and choral tracts written by the film, game, and television music composer Christopher Tin. The album is divided into thematic sections of "Day", "Night", and "Dawn" or as he writes "life, death, and rebirth." The album falls into the "world music" category, with each track sung in a different language. Already I know I've lost readership there and possibly a 
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The morning search for music in my car that will actually play used to be one of torture and compromise, but no longer! 2 months ago, out of hurried decision making and lack of ideas, I put together a compilation of a few albums I'd barely heard before--All by The Black Keys. I've listened to them almost exclusively ever since... And the volume knob keeps turning clockwise.
Sure I was laughing, but I'm sure I had a deluge of shame just oozing out of my eyeballs down my cheeks.
