beethoven’s ode to joy | burne-jones’ golden staircase | it’s june now

the golden staircase, edward burne-jones, 1880

 

 

in no way do i feel remotely like this toward any of this.

but after the last post it only felt right.

 

i don’t care about the 21st, i don’t care about your seasons. this is summer. because anyway it’s all fake, julius and augustus – more like julyuck and augussuck as far as i’m concerned. june is the last real month preceeding five months of lies and smokescreens. september, october, november, december. you do the math.

and i can’t capitalize on this godforsaken website. they won’t let me.

and it’s beginning to become too hot for my morning bike ride through the park to my studio if i wear my backpack (which i must). so now i have to invest in a panier but the rear rack will have to be compatible with a mud guard, and both need to be quick release. that means making a big decision as to getting disc brakes or keeping my pad brakes that barely work (but do work). and i’m thinking of switching both cassettes and both derailleurs as they don’t work (for real), and i want disc brakes but that move away from pad brakes is spiritually akin to getting the new iphone every year. and what if my frame can’t house these things, and then i have to get a dumb new bike that i won’t love nearly as much.

my brakes work. i could use the work-out of not being about to shift gears. who cares if my back sweats i’m tall and strong. i want to use capital letters. they’re fine. capital letters work. i need a mudguard. it’s summer god damn it.

 

is what i would say..

 

but after looking at the golden staircase and resting my eyes on the masterpiece for a few moments – i want to wish you a great first day of june. i hope that you enjoy it and look forward to the months ahead. rocking and brimming.

the painting itself is perhaps the most potent representation of hope and tenderness in burne jones’ body of work. his pre-raphaelite ties are wonderfully displayed in the painting – yet he grounds himself firmly in the ideals of the movement, we can identify a master pressing to the edges. moving away from what was too often a retread of old virtues de facto we have here a painting of true invention. a thought that careens toward contemplation. then, true observation. wherein the players and their environment are in harmony. sublime. by lsd

Amyl and the sniffer | guided by angels

 

thought to end may with the outlier good contemporary punk song ..

 

 

ksenia dronova paintings, lull me into june sweetly, and forever ..

 

 

 

and they are taking me – hummed softly only. that is the case here, anyway. by lsd

Belkacem | Fontaine | C’est normal

today, i really just need this song. it’s a gloomy passage that’s livened by the pleasure of aresky belkacem and brigitte fontaine’s incredible collaboration. their song c’est normal stands in a class of its own, and, since my earliest memories, has been at my side. je ne connais pas cet homme is an achievement in songwriting, pacing, and a testament to all avant-garde album structure.

it is rue barbette, saturday maybe, and i can see maman spraying a cleaning solution to wipe our parquet down. the name has long since escaped me and i hold the smell tightly against my chest – hoping that it remains mine to keep always. when she is done she’ll also use it to wipe our black lacquered china table with the ivory relief safely protected under a thick glass pane. the apartment is entranced by fontaine and belkacem, and for a few brief moments we both sing along to the burning building leading them to their impending/inevitable/obvious peril. it is death that’s found at the bottom of the rubble. the courtyard in my building is cobblestone. mom has painted her new wall pink. i use papier calque to trace my favorite cassette covers rented from the video store. we do this for years i think, then we move. far away. and now we are here. i am happy that is the case. by lsd

Sakamoto | Borges | Basile | seek further into the intra-place

we lost ryuichi sakamoto this year. he left us with 12, a wrestled arragment of piano pieces that extend into the ultimate vision of his late-career desire – to make music outside of time. the pieces are grounded in the earth, they rustle sound and speak at a geological pace that might fulfill his desire. though his time is the time of all humans. nonhumans, like rocks and tables, behave differently. albums like 12 exist among them. it is with hope that we conclude our thoughts on the work of this brilliant musician.

i wish to return then to a profoundly human time scale. a song, in an otherwise largely instrumental lp, that is so sensitive and intimate it has to be spoken in a handful of languages. a song then for humans, not humanity. ‘fullmoon’ is first and foremost a poem (like all work where capital b beauty is the chief concern) repeated by various speakers in their mother tongues. here goes :

because we don’t know when we will die
we get to think of life as an inexhaustible well
yet everything happens only a certain number of times
and a very small number, really
how many more times will you remember a certain afternoon of your childhood
some afternoon that is so deeply a part of your being that you can’t even conceive your life without it?
perhaps four or five times more
perhaps not even that
how many more times will you watch the full moon rise?
perhaps twenty, and yet it all seems limitless

a heartwrenching admittance by a composer yearning to extend the realm of his consciousness by conceiving outside of mortality. sound then as prolongation. sound not as wave but as matter itself. here though we have a complete recroquevillement into the human stratum. the poem operates like a laurie anderson poem, or a björk lyric. it is plainly apparent – the joke is that there is none. the gift is that it is all yours. it is all yours. and if you listen closely you’ll note that each reading gives, by the various language structures, entirely different tones. begging then to forever wonder how well can one text hope to keep its integrity? who’s to say? and yet, ryuichi sakamoto is clear. it is memory that lasts, not our ability to maintain its sanctity. i hope he was well aware of how much reached out to his listener, and how warmly his listener embraced his music. how solid his grasp was on matters of the heart.

 

 

 

continue the journey into intra-place with a link to an actualized, albeit digital, library of babel. here, the inconceivable magnitude of borges’ celebrated thought experiment is contained to within the maddening pace of a single screen at a time. in jonathan basile’s ever so thoughtful digital rendition find also the exploratory purpose that the edifice of the story itself corrupts in the human soul. you are not alarmed, you are here. find firm ground in totality by reducing the effect of the accomplishment. it is not geological scale that dictates this monument, it is the atomic scale. you are here and will never get there. rest within yourself the pride that drives you to peruse the stacks that populate the shelves.

surf the website by clicking here

 

 

proposed floor plan for the library of babel
spectacularly, intersecting hexagons are depicted in async’s remix lp

only then can you wonder truly past situations and phenomena. to affix your gaze toward significance and its healing abilities. by lsd

Holly Herndon | PROTO | Extreme Love

 

lily anna hayes reading a text that might surely make timothy morton proud.

it moves me so profoundly.

it is everything but not all.

warm excess materialism.

i sure love it with all my heart..

prompting an unchanged discovery by lsd

adieu godard

vivre sa vie jean luc godard

some music to harp back to… what I was looking for was this link but unfortunately we can not embed that here, but go have a listen… by uh

that happy monday feeling – wrote for luck

happy monday hacienda – wrote for luck

in case link is broken have a happy one here. by xy

jarvis cocker : I will kill again

“whooot?”

i will kill again – jarvis cocker

this popped on in my playlist and had to point out how much i love this guy. brilliant lyrics, with that signature jarvis cynicism and wit. hes my current leonard cohen – just love this guy. lyrics to the track below…
build yourself a castle (definitely my plan)
keep your family safe from harm
get into classical music (i’m already there)
raise rabbits on a farm (hmmm!)

log on in the night time
drink a half-bottle of wine (i’m there)

buy a couple of records (i have 100s – but this is a jab clearly to the brooklyn hipsters)
look at naked girls from time to time (done that)

and people tell me
what a real nice guy you are (he def doesn’t think of himself as one)
so come on, serenade them
on your acoustic guitar (again a possible jab, he def made me conscious as i do serenade on my acoustic)

and don’t believe me
if i claim to be your friend (see? not your sweet-y pie.)
cause given half the chance
i know that i will kill again
i will kill again

and wouldn’t it be nice
for all the world to live in peace? (jab at head-in-the-cloud hippies)

and no-one gets ill or ever dies
or dies of boredom at the very least (my favorite line in this track)

 

and people tell me… by dd

 

french electro comedy skit with stromae: alors on danse

french comedian jamel debbouze helps stromae how-to

compose “alors on danse”

if unavailable view video in link

remembered this gem of a piece my french buddy showed me almost 10 years ago to illustrate how i must seem when i’m working with musicians to create an electronic track. something i sometimes do… so good, and i guess the cliches are all true, the barking dog, the sick duck and the whole comedy that is constantly self revealing. thank you monsieur pierre… by pp

Here’s the scoooop… Lescop ‘La Foret’

ok who wants to practice their french? and if not… there are subtitles in english. nice little track and video. now go practice.

Un coup de feu dans la nuit

Une douleur glaciale qui s’élance

La Foret soudain qui frémit

Puis s’installe le silence

 

Tu te tiens là assourdie

Tu prononces la sentence

Le deuxième coup est parti

Et fait bientôt la différence

 

Dans la Foret je te retrouve à l’heure opportune

Un rendez vous improvisé sous la lune

Sourires crispés, situation compliquée

Je sens ton souffle qui me frôle le coup

Un pistolet chargé me caresse la joue

Tu me dis “cette fois c’est moi qui joue”

Dans la foret la première détonation raisonne

Un coup de feu puis deux, mon corps qui frissonne

Puis doucement s’écroule

 

Plus rien, plus un bruit

Personne n’a rien vu par chance

Pour moi maintenant c’est fini

Et tout le monde s’en fout, tu penses!

 

Te voilà maintenant qui t’enfuis

Tirant ta révérence

La foret de nouveau frémit

Et je profite du silence

 

Dans la Foret je te retrouve à l’heure opportune

Un rendez vous improvisé sous la lune

Sourires crispés, situation compliquée

Je sens ton souffle qui me frôle le cou

Un pistolet chargé me caresse la joue

Tu me dis “cette fois c’est moi qui joue”

Dans la foret la première détonation raisonne

Un coup de feu puis deux, mon corps qui frissonne

Puis doucement s’écroule–

 

Lescop ‘La Foret’ lyrics & music © LESCOP and POP NOIRE RECORDS produced by johnny hostile , filmed by jehnny beth – by ars

sama – palestines female techno pioneer (boiler room – ramallah)

the palestinian techno queen – sama brings it back to her roots playing in the heart of ramallah.

sama stepped up to the decks in a black tee, while the crowed was also free to express as they please.

“There’s nothing. No people, no war, no nothing. Just you and the music, and you let everything out”

<< DIRECT LINK TO YOUTUBE >>

if you are a palestinian thats fond of the rave scene, you might find yourself climbing over the eight-meter wall, illegally entering israeli territory to listen to some beats.

samas sets now reach viewing numbers that exceeded the organizers expectations. stepping into the playing grounds of boiler rooms top tier acts.

introduced to techno at age 16, she discovered more of the scene when moving to beirut to study sound design before moving to egypt to work in film making. she heard from a friend about a french festival, palest’in & out, which showcases palestinian artists in france. naturally she left to paris where she was quickly offered a six month residency, performing for crowds of 1000+.

sama never wants to be compartmentalized by her palestinian identity, yet many others have spoken out on the politics of her homeland. #DJsforPalestine. With many dj’s pledging to not play in israel until the brutal and sustained oppression comes to an end. — “they make us feel powerful and heard”. by lb