on life, music etc beyond mainstream

Du durchsuchst gerade das Archiv des Monats April 2015.

Archiv: April 2015

2015 28 Apr

Gordon Jenkins in the skies

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I don’t like taxidermied animals. Even as a child their looks made me sad. I’m surely not a friend of taxidermists. But encounter a stuffed hyena, or taxidermic pigeons, and you immediately feel like entering a strange twilight zone, something disturbingly unreal. For example Black Gold Records on 461 Court Street in Carroll Gardens, Brooklyn. „How this small storefront manages to sell coffee, antiques and records without being a cluttered, cramped mess we’ll never know.“ This is a sampling space! All music is vinyl: garage-rock comps, Hawaiian exotica, free jazz treasures from the late 60s, imaginary movies by Gordon Jenkins (!), some avant horizontal ambient music, and noisy stuff of every lost decade. „Even if the music’s not to your taste, the store’s oddball Victorian atmosphere is enough to keep you browsing, plus you can purchase coffee and bites from the likes of SCRATCHbread and other local food purveyors after flipping through the goods.“ There’s an ancient record player in the corner that seems to have survived its expiry date for a long time. If you put a record on, you’re dj-ing the soundtrack of the moment. Everybody is listening to your choices, cause there are no headphones: in my case the whole room was filled with Hollywood strings from the 50s of the last century, and a self-assured voice starts to tell a story: „Once upon a time there was a woman with three cats and golden hair.“



2015 28 Apr

Eine Mail von Kevin McAleer

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Lieber Herr Engelbrecht,
ich habe erst vor kurzem Ihre E-Mail an Stephanie Haack weitergeleitet

Vielen Dank, dass Sie so einen poetischen Essay mit dem Buch als
Sprungbrett geschrieben haben. Ich fand es grossartig Ihre Botschaft,
dass man kein Surfer sein muss, um die perfekte Welle zu fangen, da die
perfekte Welle „viele Gesichter“ hat.

Sehr schön.

Ich war besonders froh, dass Sie Julia Ritter auch ein paar Zeilen
gewidmet haben – wenn das Buch Ihnen gefallen hat, ist es weitgehend
ihrer Übersetzung zu verdanken.

Und ich glaube, dass Sie in einem kurzen Satz, den Roman besser
zusammengefasst haben, als irgendjemand bisher: „Was anfänglich wie
schlichter Stoff für Surfromantiker wirkt, geht dann richtig Bach und
Welle runter.“

Nochmals herzlichen Dank – ich finde es wunderbar, dass das Buch
jemanden zur Abfassung von so einem tollen Text veranlassen kann.
Mit besten Grüssen,

Kevin McAleer

(s.a. Blogeintrag vom 2. April)





Riding the porcelain god is not so much fun. Saying it without slang: I had the runs. The most merciless ever. Stuck to bed nearly two days. „Montezumas Rache“. I would’ve preferred Ingolstadt to NYC. At least, in an hour of relaxation (kind of) I watched the Brooklyn movie „The Drop“ on my small screen, a brilliant drama, low key, top-notch acting by Tom Hardy and the late Mr. Gandolfino. All based on a short story of Dennis Lehane. A million times better than Martin Scorsese’s bullshit version of Lehane’s „Shutter Island“.

Finally, daylight found me again. Sitting in Bryant Park, a boat journey to Staten Island. In Greenwich Village, I entered „Other Music“, the kind of record store I love. From new electronica to old and new jazz, from deep Old Africa (the first two Fela Kuti recordings ever out now!) to Jamaican rarities – and the really new hot shit, everything’s nicely stored in a quite small room.

At the entrance (I registered it with a broad smile) I saw (side by side) the covers of the new Mountain Goats and Sufjan Stevens albums (I played two songs of these amazing song cycles on my last late night show, in a row with Aidan Moffat, Franz Schubert and Federico Mompou). Squarepusher, Alabama Shakes, Björk, every item in glorious vinyl. Now double-click on the photos, and you’ll see God is in the details. Ding-Dong-Dinger is part of the game: to place the cover of the first NEU! record under the ceiling reveals a thoughtful mind behind this collection of antiques, novelties, classics and curiosities.

But, what strange record did they play when I was strolling through the place? A freaky saxophone, psychedelics from ancient days, creepy exotica and slightly paranoid voices mixed up to one weird journey! I asked the man behind the counter what this stuff would be, and he said with a whisper: – From our teenage days, my friend! He showed me the album. Yep, he was right. A gem for my next „time travel radio hour“. London 1970, Trident Studios. One year later, i had been there, sweet sixteen, seeing Steamhammer rocking the Marquee Club (sigh) …


One entry for „The Ugliest Albumcover in 2015“ is already in …

2015 25 Apr

Damogen Furies

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Stor Eiglass – the first five beats could be something from The Disciples of Annihilation’s unforgettable New York City Speedcore. This accounts for around 7/8ths of a second at the start of the composition. It’s a great start. Start as you mean to go on. The rest of Stor Eiglass does things – good things – that defy critical vocabulary. There are spirals, a helter-skelter (minus the negative Beatles/Manson associations) ride, descending series of notes, the descent seen from different angles and different proximities. Spatio-temporal parallax. Stop as you mean to go off.
Baltang Ort – descending line, three or four notes, melancholic timbre, occluded midway, more descending notes. When is an occlusion not an occlusion? Who knows? Fuck knows. Something deep at the heart of this song is trying to fight its way out of itself. The last maybe half a second is echo, back where it began. Marcus Aurelius in space.
Rayc Fire 2 – „Observe the course of the stars as if you were running with them.“
Kontenjaz – for me this is all about the space, the rest of Damogen Furies does this too. How to describe? It’s not concert-hall reverb but neither is it like being plugged into the machine earwise. It’s not reverb, it’s close to reverb, but it’s not reverb. It’s like the moonbeams that shoot out of your fingers and your toes and the ends of your hair when music temporarily displaces your inner-ear/brain gestalt. The space between the listener and the maker is there but it’s a mediumistic thing, and/or a rope bridge.
Exjag Knives – futuristic, but not in a futuristic way. If you listen closely, there’s any amount of your own associations in here. Лайка in orbit. Sunday morning on the DLR at Shadwell. The cake aisle in Morrisons. The weird space in the walkways under motorway bridges where necessary collective mental static is necessarily displaced for reasons either psychogeographical or pseudoameliorative. An accumulation of concrete with no concrete. A spiritual accretion by default. Not Ballardian really. Better for being less projectional in a way. Just, like, … is.
Kwang Bass – cold
D Frozent Acc – I was hoping for a ballad track to end the record, ya know. Something to warm the heart. D Frozent Acc is warmly inventive but about as balladic as Novaya Zemlya or Auch Zwerge haben klein angefangen. And that’s all that counts.
A great listen, all told.


Guy Ware’s excellent new novel is about work, love, redundancy, crime, the afterlife AND the importance of well-polished shoes …

„The Magic Whip“ is a document of a specific time and place, like „Heroes“ (Berlin), Exile on Main St. (the French Riviera), „The Pearl“ (Hamilton, Ontario), and Dusty in Memphis (take a guess). (Superior albums all, but nonetheless pretty good company.) Wolfram says. Possibly. And Uwe says. In a vein analogous with Damon Albarn’s 2014 excellent solo debut, Everyday Robots, Damon bemoans the physical and emotional isolation today’s increasingly digital world conduces in juxtaposition to the often hollow-feeling notion that we are closer and more connected to each other than ever before, Lajla says. You never walk alone saying this. „The Magic Whip“ is not just a return to form after a long silence, it’s pulsating with fresh ideas and revealing illusions of sameness and identity. Gregs says. So, please don’t start to celebrate the return of another magic ape! The matter is serious, Joey says, but a bit of dancing and bicycling  isn’t x-rated. Take the thumping „Go Out“, where going out is nothing more than going „to the local, by myself“, otherwise spending one´s time „getting sad alone“ and „dancing with myself“. Michael says: „Das Fest ist aus.“ Ian says: only a few people will know Asmus Tietchen’s collage of all yesterday’s parties. Henning says what. The long echoes fading forever. Nostalgia is the wrongest movement possible, Frederik says. Stop making popular sense, please. Martina says. Albarn uses the capital city of notoriously hermetic and stilted North Korea as an allegory for the façade of camaraderie that technology such as social media uses to obscure our cracks and humanity on the dreamy and wistful „Pyongyang“. Ian says. Senses working overtime. Still crazy after all this years of being honest, stealing voices, chasing ghosts. Oh, the blurring shadow. Oh, der Verwischungsschatten.  

2015 21 Apr

„Wim legt auf“

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Jan hatte ja schon auf die Ausstellung Wim Wenders. Landschaften. Photographien. im Kunstpalast hingewiesen. Heute hat Wim dort den DJ gespielt.

Zu meiner grossen Begeisterung hat er folgende Musikstuecke aufgelegt:

  1. Gus Black: Today is not the day +++
  2. Nina Hagen: Du hast den Farbfilm vergessen +++
  3. The KINKS: People take photos from each others +++++
  4. Nadia Surf: The film did not go round ++++
  5. Sam Philips: Speaking of pictures +++
  6. The WHO: Pictures of Lilly +++
  7. Ivo Robic: Morgen (hat seine Mutter immer gehoert)
  8. Dorthe: Waerst du Dussel doch (er liebt D.)
  9. Catharina Valente: Wo meine Sonne scheint (Mutter) ++
  10. Red River Rock, von wem ist das??? ++++
  11. Gus Black: A certain kind of light (er beginnt in US zu fotografieren) +++
  12. Paul Simon: Kodachrome ++++
  13. Lou Reed: Vanishing Act +++++
  14. Clan Snyde: Love the Unknown +++++
  15. The Beatles: In my life +++++
  16. Greg Brown: Whatever it was ++++
  17. Suzanne Vega: Horizon (er kauft sich ne neue Kamera, um die Horizonte zu fotografieren)
  18. Pearl Jam: Present tense ++++
  19. Asaf Avidan: Little parcels
  20. Neil Young: Distant camera ++++
  21. Bill Fay: Never ending happening +++++
  22. The Pretty Things: Photographer +++++

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