Manafonistas

The thing with silence works

In my favourite poetry collections,

All these empty spaces, a few

Lines only, white linen

All around. Life is a dance,

And your silence maybe a way

Of taking your time to feel,

Or simply preparing wonderful

Improbabilities of meeting

Next lifetime. You don‘t even

Hear this guitar chord at the end.

I adopted your secrecy.

(written by Miranda July)

listen to my heartbeat

one year ago I recorded my heartbeats with a ultrasound scanner and a field recorder

recently I transfered them by 3 different audio-graphical software programs
 
 
 

 
 
 
wave form 4,5 heartbeats
 
 
 

 
 
 
spectral analysis 3,5 heartbeats
 
 
 

 
 
 
spectral analysis 1,5 heartbeats zoomed
 
 
 

 
 
 
spectral analysis 13 heartbeats
 
 
 

 
 
 
spectral analysis 1 heartbeat zoomed
 
 
listen …

 
Perkussionsbeet
 
 
 

 
 
 
Jetzt braucht nur noch der richtige Gärtner zu kommen, und das wäre: Zlatko Kaučič
 
 
© FoBo_HenningBolte
 

ARTE zeigt dankenswerterweise einige Konzerte vom MELT! Festival, u.a. auch den Set von THE NOTWIST !
 
Setlist:

They Follow Me
Close to the Glass
Kong
Boneless
Into Another Tune
One With The Freaks
Pick Up The Phone
This Room
One Dark Love Poem
Run Run Run
Neon Golden
Different Cars And Trains/Pilot
Gravity

Only a few of the Manafonistas living in Scotland, USA, Germany, Scotland and The Netherlands have ever seen one another. Soulmates, strangers, something in between. Is there any other blog in the world that works this way? Never seen one. Nothing new under the sun, but some of the old things have become quite rare. The resistance of a dying breed. We’re walking in parallels, unhurried by deadlines, ready for the unexpected, dealing with the art of breakfast, the magic factor „x“ in music, the systems of chance, good stories and food, the praise of high windows, jukebox culture, pure realism, fake travels, poetry lectures, tea ceremonies, washing machines, bondage techniques, textural minimalism, armchair journeys, road movies, film noir, lost classics, lucid dreaming etc. There’s humour with subtle shades of black, a sense of wonder. A bunch of believers, agnostics and atheists. Now we’re waiting for the last man or woman joining the circle. Sometimes the person who comes at the end, is a kind of joker, a clown, a dancer. This is a smoking sign from the blue nowhere, an old radio is burning, and the world keeps turning away, like in that old Neil Young song from „On The Beach“. No reason to forget breathing. Hey, hey, my, my, storytelling will never die.  P.S. The first Manafonistas Meeting will take place on a long weekend in May 2015, on the island Sylt. Details soon. 

Yes have nearly always been an overdose of kitsch. As time goes by they once in a while get a kind of nostalgic reevaluation. Rick Wakeman, a keyboard player coated with sugar like no other in  pop history, has been part of the game. That they were once called „prog“ casts a dark shadow on the whole idea of „prog rock“! Believe it, or not: they are still well and alive (that is the good news), and now, with their new opus and its telling title „Heaven and Earth“ they definitely prove that they love big screens, nice singalongs, soft harmonies, and, best of all, that the summer of 68 has never faded away. It’s peace on earth, and the electric guitar is a lesson in playful nirvana. Samsara, samsara, samsaleikum! The most profound moment comes when they sing about „getting to know the empty space / Beneath the surface of common days“. It’s a bit more self-referential than originally intended. Regression therapy has found a new classic! 

Ganz Belgien jetzt im Fussballfieberersatz: Eddy Merckx, der Baron muss her – jetzt schon auf der Königsetappe, hinter ihm das Lügenpaket Lance Armstrong auf gleicher Höhe mit Jan Ullrich, die besten 4 bereits ausgeschieden. Eddy ganz stark in den Pedalen, hinauf zum Port de Balès, dort wartet die beste Bergewertung. Eddy weiß nicht, dass der 14. Juli längst vorbei ist, er weiß nur: noch 2 Tage bis Buffalo.
Er setzt zum Flug über die Felder an, Kühe versperren ihm den Weg, egal, Eddy zieht sich an ihren Schwänzen hoch, fühlt sich wie der Königssohn an Rapunzels Haar, rollt über ihre Rücken, bleibt mit seinem gelben Trikot am Horn eines Viehs hängen, reißt sich los, zerrt das schweißnasse Trikot über seinen erhitzten Kopf, schleudert es nach hinten, wo zum ersten mal ein Chinese auffährt.
Eddy blutet an der linken Schulter, seine Beine krampfen, er spürt nichts außer den Wunsch, auf den einzig wahren Champs zu siegen. Das gepunktete Trikot mit der roten Rückennummer klebt an seinem Körper wie eine 2. Haut. Wer trägt das weiße? Kittel! Wer ist Kittel? Nur noch 2,3 Sekunden bis zum Arc de Triomphe. Eddy reißt die Arme hoch, jetzt ist er überglücklich.
Le jour de gloire est arrivé.

Das wahre Ende der Tour de France ist am 27.7.2014.

Leonard Cohen, dessen zeitlose Songs mich jetzt schon durch — wieviele ? – Jahre und Lebenssituationen begleiten …

There are always meaningful songs for somebody. People are doing their courting, people are finding their wives, people are making babies, people are washing their dishes, people are getting through the day, with songs that we may find insignificant. But their significance is affirmed by others. There’s always someone affirming the significance of a song by taking a woman into his arms or by getting through the night. That’s what dignifies the song. Songs don’t dignify human activity. Human activity dignifies the song.

La Roux: Trouble in Paradise

It’s interesting to read so much enthusiastic reviews. You start asking yourself: who’s the alien? I mean Alex Petridis is full of praise, the guy who has written the excellent review of Soul Mining (see our reissue of the month). Everyone seems to be delighted. Are there already La Roux street dance parties? I always thought I knew something about the magic of surfaces, simple pop pleasures with a twist, the art of transcending cheap thrills with very special cheap thrills. No problem to confess I love the Bee Gees soundtracking Saturday Night Fever, some Pet Shop Boys songs are heartbreaking, a lot of Abba songs are irresistible till the end of time, but this … I can’t stand this

tralalafakesynthmiddleoftheroadsongsrecyclingsome80sstufftodeath