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Archives: Mittwoch, 18. November 2015

The emptiness that we confess
in the dimmest hour of day
in Automatown they make a sound
like the low sad moan of prey
 
The bitter taste the hidden face
of the lost forgotten child
the darkest need the slowest speed
the debt unreconciled
 
These photographs mean nothing
to the poison that they take
before a moment´s glory
the light begins to fade …
 
(T Bone Burnett, „The Angry River“)

 
 

True Detective wirkt nach: Darsteller, Drehbuch, Bildkompositionen, Filmmusik – alles vom Feinsten. Seit Twin Peaks damals in den Neunzigern ist dies die erste amerikanische Serie, die ich mit Genuss, Hingabe und Inspiration geschaut habe. Auch Mad Men´s First Season war kürzlich ein grosses Vergnügen, nach anfänglich irrtümlichem Misstrauen, dies sei nur eine Art Stromberg-Bürowelt ins New York der Sechziger Jahre verlegt. Weit gefehlt, auch hier optischer Hochgenuss, erstklassige Schauspieler, Erzählung auf diversen zeitlichen Ebenen, originelle Filmmusik (im Abspann erklingt Bob Dylans „Don´t Think Twice“, ein anderes Mal ein netter Jazzstandard oder ein Bossa Nova). Weitere Serien werden folgen, das sei hier feierlich verkündet, denn eine neue Ära hat begonnen: mit dem Videoplayer als Festinstallation („Fest“ im doppelten Sinne). Qualitätsfilme statt Biedermannskost, Ende der televisionären Deutschtümelei: Originalversionen nun – ggf mit deutschen Untertiteln als Netz und doppeltem Boden (mit „dem Zweiten“ sieht man lange nicht so gut). Dabei nebenher Englischkenntnisse verbessern, das ist der Mehrwert oder, wie Lacan und Zizek sagen würden: das Mehr-Geniessen.

 
–
 
TD Season 1 – „The Angry River“ by The Hat ft. Father John Misty & S.I. Istwa (HBO)
 
„The Angry River“ (short snapshot cover, rhythm guitar track with 2 overdubs)
 
 

 
 

 
 
 

I

 

An amazing pudding it certainly is, as POPMATTERS announces. And you probably have to think about the definition of „progressive rock“ with all its parameters of complexity. I do not share the obsessive love for Yes works there, Rush always have been strangers for Gregs and Joey. Wolfgang and Lajla could easily skip Camel or even Pink Floyd’s „The Wall“, other Manas would certainly add the first Mike Oldfield album (on a nostalgic day), the second Caravan opus (everyday) and the third Soft Machine double prog masterpiece (as a cornerstorne, though one with heavy freewheelin‘ jazz input).

 

II

 

There would be good reasons to add some of XTC’s outstanding creations (f.e. „Mummer“), but XTC of course balances on the margins of a wide definition of prog rock. And no KRAUT PROG? Anyway, some good instructions for time travelng are guaranteed, with weird metres & polarities, British eccentricities – and if you like to count rhyhms, you’ll be in heaven. There are some more or less hidden gems („Octopus“), and some works that only stand the test of time in proggy oldie shows.

 

III

 

But, on the other hand, you cannot fail with King Crimson. According to Michael and Mike Barnes (The Wire, December edition), The „Thrak Box“, just being released, can be regarded as „instant 90’s classic prog rock“ where high mathematics of sound (Mr. Fripp loves Bartok, and here you get to know why) meet adventurous spirits and uninhibited outbursts of raw emotion.

 

IV

 

Often the cover art has been „gargantuesque“ (though the writer of thesé lines, a go-betweeen of half-stuttered bon mots, zeitgeist distortions, and more or less invented memories, does not know exactly what  that word means). The good news is that some of this „debatable list“ is still setting Lucy-in-the-sky-high standards with mind-blowing side effects. And Steven Wilson had a lot of this in his hands doing remasterings, „sensurroundings“ and archival discoveries.

(MHQ, extract from two Manas talking on the phone)

 

V

 

„Really don’t mind if you sit this one out.
My words but a whisper – your deafness a SHOUT.
I may make you feel but I can’t make you think.
Your sperm’s in the gutter – your love’s in the sink.
So you ride yourselves over the fields and
you make all your animal deals and
your wise men don’t know how it feels to be thick as a brick.
And the sand-castle virtues are all swept away in
the tidal destruction
the moral melee.“

(Brick) 

 

– M.E.


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