In order to fatten one’s weak surrounding posse of admirers, one has to be a shameless aggregator who can gently steal, cunningly manipulate and ruthlessly claim the stolen sources of his own. And luckily to that end, in this posthumous blogosphere, there are no Harvard, Chicago or Vancouver referencing systems. Therefore if you notice no Creative Commons licensing around your designated precious source, just stay silent and the data will be yours.
But shooting from the hip, there is no sign of stealth in what I’m doing to bring you tonight’s tune. All I did was reading a few XXJFG posts on Food Pyramid and accidentally coming across the deserted Altered Zones on one of their rotating backgrounds that was basically the cover art to the band’s 2010 album II. But they both kindled a palliative ambient watercourse that will keep me monitoring whatever they are up to.
For instance, the fantastic four might of Food Pyramid (C. Hontona, C. Farstak, J. Pfeiffe, M. Weather) have something with likes of a recommendation engine on their blog tagged as “Plateau” in which they introduce what is currently keeping their engine warm. And in that messy jazz suddently appears an amateour 3D-Studio-ish CGI animation called “End of the World 2012” by a Casina777 that features Eva Mendes, Tiger Woods, The Supreme Being from the movie The Fifth Element, Tom Cruise being hit by a watermelon and Alyssa Milano dancing Gangnam style. The background music is “Birthday Money” and it sounds eerily fit to the video.
The band’s versatility does not end there. Food Pyramid is capable of being kosmische and kraut while reserving a love for the Shibuya-kei indie-pop lady Takako Minekawa.
But what we have above is as Age of Empires II as a multi-instrumentalist band from Minneapolis, MN can sound like. Arp Navigators, the band’s collaboration with Roy Orb D.MT. is to be enjoyed as a whole. There is no lack of tranquil soundspheres in a track as mitigating as the opener “Windsong”. The album is filled with harmonious vivacious pads that monotonously set the mind at ease for a long odyssey to come.
Arp Navigators was released on Moon Glyph and is still worthy of being added to your cart.
The song was "Windsong"
performed by Food Pyramid & Roy Orb D.MT.
from Arp Navigators
the perks of having a bush tape in a high school in iran circa 1997
The following event happened about 17 years ago. Sorry for the high school dear diary language in advance.
Tyranny of the Righteous Path
Iran circa the Spice Girls heat. Mollasadra high school, Karaj. As a high school kid, I usually found myself fed up with disturbing sermons and bizarre pointless rituals with almost no one to turn to. Even in the private company of fellow classmates, things were not that different. We were almost unanimously doomed to be brainwashed and programmed with the constant stream of the righteous path. Some of us felt lucky to be living in God’s most beloved land. Needless to say, Islam is not very fond of music. As a matter of fact, this timeless ultimate once-and-for-all manifesto towards eternal happiness for humankind finds itself very difficult to see you spending time being happy! There are assignments for every single hour of your life. There is very little time to be wasted with trivial unnecessary West-influenced nonsense such as watching a James Bond movie, listening to music or even hanging out in the city with your girlfriend. To be honest, all three are punished with fines.
During summer before the school started, my cousin brought herself a few CDs: Two Bush albums, Green Day, The Offspring and Sublime. Except the latter, she was forced to leave the rest for me having checked her luggage before her flight back only to realize she was not allowed to carry them inside. They were about to break and recycle them. It was my mother who saved them by convincing nice words.
I did not have a CD player so I asked a neighbor’s relatives to burn them into cassettes. In less than two months, I knew all the lyrics to every single song on those albums. I still know them inside out. Go ahead and name any song from Bush’s Sixteen Stone or Razorblade Suitcase and I will sing them for you right here right now! And among my new found heroes Gavin Rossdale, Dexter Holland, Billie Joe Armstrong and the late Bradley Nowell, the former actually became a very important part of my teenage years. One small problem though. There was almost not a single way I could get more information of him. No internet, no connection with the outside world and a static-full MTV India that was not in the slightest bit interested in alternative rock. I was completely detached from all the good stuff happening out there. And in return, every once in a year when my aunt tried to send stuff from USA to Iran that were supposed to come as relief, they were a bunch of mags with Backstreet Boys and Spice Girls on them. I once asked my uncle who had been living in California for nearly four decades to send me Beastie Boys’ Hello Nasty and Oasis’ Be Here Now. After months of patience, I got Smash Mouth and Hanson! I know all lyrics to Hanson! I also know the entire Astro Lounge by heart. ‘Cause what can you do? Life sucked! I’m very happy now. I’m a very happy person. Much more stable. I have Spotify! I have a blog and they haven’t sent me to jail yet. A bit out of reach for that.
That pathetic school day, I lent my Bush cassette to my classmate. He was a nice guy back then. A bit stupid but nice. I didn’t have a copy of the tape so I warned him to be careful with it. I had painted the tape and had written the tracklisting and song durations very carefully. Bush’s Razorblade Suitcase starts off with the sound of an angry dog. Not a very safe start. Islam is not fond of dogs either! Dogs are “najess (filthy)” and must be avoided. My classmate listened carefully to my warnings, put the cassette in his backpack and left for home. He promised to return it within one week. And he was nice enough to do that. But little did I know, despite the suit-n-tie family appearance, the poor boy came from a very close-minded conservative family. One in which the simple act of dating a girl would have had dire consequences of being harshly slapped in front of your friends and being grounded for days, let alone listening to rock music that ignites your satanic sinful side and fills your brain with infidelity and hellfire.
Not surprisingly, my classmate’s father had been informed of this tragic story and had called the merciless school principal about it. On the returning day, my classmate was summoned. The principle started searching his backpack and upon discovering the threatening tape had asked about the origins. Classmate immediately turned me in! So he was allowed to go back to the class. I was the next to be summoned. I saw the frowning bearded monster’s face as though he had just solved a murder mystery.
The most awkward investigation was to follow. I was asked to read and translate all the song titles. Each being followed by a weird comment from the principle “Swallowed? Why? Look how the Western culture is trying to swallow you? This is exactly what they’re doing.”, “Greedy Fly? The filthier, the better, right?”, “Cold Contagious? Isn’t it exactly how their culture war sounds like?”
I was not physically punished, but my belongings were unapologetically confiscated. I knew it was going to be months before I hear Bush again. Gavin Rossdale’s perfect weary lungs were not going to be my closest comrades for a long time to come. Beleaguered and exasperated, I went home in complete silence bottling up my anger which was now doubled due to the painful empty space in my schoolbag. Back to square one. We needed a CD player as soon as possible. But it had probably the lowest priority in my dad’s to-do list.
Years passed. Bush released two new albums, broke up, returned after nearly a decade and released another one. I have been through a rollercoaster of ups and downs and music has still remained my closest ally through thick and thin. I did not learn my lesson. I never will. My appetite for discovery has been unleashed to the strangest and the most astonishing of sounds. I have travelled from alternative to indie rock. Conceived Radiohead and learned how to enjoy Pavement. Then via “How To Disappear Completely” learned how a band goes through a sea change of sound experiments and also heard Beck’s Sea Change. I started blogging about music in 2007. I compensated whatever I had missed in the nineties and grew yet another limitless passion for electronic music and hip-hop. I am currently deciphering the paths to vaporwave, drone-ambient and seapunk. I guess all that confinement came to a happy ending after all. It could have been much better of course. But my life both musically and normally has made an exponential growth and I’m grateful to the path I have walked to be here.
So a thank you and a very big fuck you to everyone who has hindered my journey! The negligence, the state of being utterly underappreciated and overlooked, the ridiculously expected alienation and all the other things hand in hand to demonize the beauty of music in my ear! I don’t wish them luck. It would be unrealistic to exhibit Stockholm syndrome for the negativity of the past. But it is surely a bliss living and working in Stockholm. All that bullshit is nothing but food to my blogging here. So make yourself at this binary shelter!
Hi Pedram, how ru doing ? Do you have some email where to contact u easier? Really enjoyed your site man, and would love to share with you some stuff that could be interest you. All best there, Pedram; and nice to meet you. Diego
Hello Diego! Yes, you can contact me via mobedi at live dot com. I think you already know why I haven’t put contact information here. An inbox on the verge of explosion from mediocrity and irrelevant newsletters. So I decided to attack internet instead of being attacked by it. But if you happen to have or know of any music that is in the same vibe as the blog, I would surely love to hear it.
この曲は、昨年12月にリリースされました。私たちは 食品まつり について多くを知らない。しかし、私は彼が日本からのものであることを知っている。
The song was "SHI ZEN HO DOU"
performed by 食品まつり a.k.a foodman
from FOGPAK #8
I find myself in outré atmospheres in Stockholm. It is nowhere close to New York and London where celebrities and artists get surrounded by cameras and girls flashing tits for signatures. All the big names are probably sitting next to you in Tunnelbanan (metro) tactfully skimming over Aftonbladet pages or getting lost in a Netflix stream on their phones. And if you have ever tried to spot me, I was the guy scrolling up and down my Spotify playlist. And good luck with that!
The young man who just got out in Mariatorget was Axel Willner aka The Field who was reading a review of his own Cupid’s Head. The feminist woman nodding in agreement to old pensioner’s coming week weather forecast was Karin Dreijer Andersson. Björn Yttling of Peter Björn and John was seen in Djurgården sidewalks jugging the sweat out of his Cornelis Vreeswijk shirt. All these gentle quiet people just passed you by before you knew what you have missed. And even I barely tried to wear a hunter’s eye. You don’t look for them. You don’t destroy their summer house front porches for pictures and TMZ propaganda. Sweden simply does not work like that.
And the same goes for the folks behind 80s nostalgia shower of Mitch Murder. Interceptor, their latest album is going to see the light of day on July 29th. This is not going to be the sort of anachronism you relate to with John Foxx or Leyland Kirby. It is a merry-go-round of longings for the A-team heyday, Rex Smith cruising for Street Hawk and coming back home from work switching on the telly for The Cosby Show.
This is simply the most accomplished work from the Stockholm gentlemen. A neon botanical garden of the immaculate greed of grabbing your NES joysticks to Mega Man and dancing your weekend away to A Flock of Seagulls. There is no accurate way of fully presenting Interceptor without a bucketload of references. By why is that a problem when you do not even need a verbose ghost to give a text version of it to you? When was the last time the inferior text could embody music? You just have to reconceive your very own variant of Interceptor. So pre-order it here maybe?
The song was "Breakazoid"
performed by Mitch Murder
There are many ways to deal with a leaking. One straightforward one is to open the text tap of this place to flow every time a single thing happens on a record label or if any of my favorite people drops a remix of another favorite artist or does a Rihanna cover. And that will turn Ghost FM into a buzzblog, an NME Radar with one-gazillionth of readers. And that will be the kind of post-apoc oneiric creature I am not. So I’d like to put tracks in lab environments in which you are equipped with various listening tools: the Moog percentage calculator and the synth density machine among others. Also if there is a collaboration in your remix, we have measurements in our lab for a feature-to-feature analogy. So you needn’t worry about anything you hear here. What you have to push play on is ghost-proof signed, sealed, delivered, affirmative.
One thing we cannot resist is a debut from Le Cassette, though. This is where all our calculations picnic for a while for it passes any early measurement nimbly. And in the 80s delikatessen Telefuture record label has vetted for us in all its neon blue gracefulness, the latest release heralds a tubular weekend spent in San Luis Obispo in black leather miniskirts.
Le Cassette’s Left To Our Own Devices has been in the making for two years. It’s a sort of lost future Bryan Ferry would have imagined. Like many others I tipped a toe in the single “Electric Paradise” for its hit capacity with a dip of M83’s “Kim & Jessie” in a Cut Copy bowl. But then I was electrolyzed by “Digital Power”, the immediate retro boom after the intro. There is a bit of everything for everyone who’s in their club list. I finally opted for the instrumental “Fighter” for it is the sound of a rebirth to all the nocturnal Sega Mega Drive games I jammed in my console slot. This is definitely a very likely candidate for end-year lists as it’s getting harder and harder to skip these tracks as they smoothly rotate heavier and heavier. That is quite an achievement for a 62-min album.
The song was "Fighter"
performed by Le Cassette
from Left to Our Own Devices