modern life is not rubbish aka the joy of now aka quaternary, cenozoic and phanerozoic
You should be wearing a Black-Hole-Sun smile on your face. You are reading this text and you do not even know who I am. But we are together and our halos are therefore neatly interwound. You, by and large are somehow very lucky to be a Flandrian interglacial walking object. Your epoch is Holocene. You are Quaternary, Cenozoic, Phanerozoic and inherently a candidate for the global warming survival team.
You have Spotify and opted out of Rdio for hipster-y reasons. You scrobble halfway through your tracks. Your most scrobbled track is currently Panda Bear’s “Bro’s” and still you wish to replace it with a Basinski slow burner. You have preserved your iTunes library for the albums not found on the Spotify archive. Therefore it looks like a precious mosaic of rare compilations such as The Third Unheard Connecticut Hip Hop 1972-1983, Mihály Víg’s composition for Béla Tarr films, Vince Guaraldi Trio’s A Charlie Brown Christmas and all Silver Jews.
Your presence on Bandcamp is of unfathomable cyber etiquette. You have supported all your vaporwave and witchhouse artists occasionally donating 5 bucks over their designated price. You pay for their mixtapes. You extravagantly support their Kickstarters. You have a Vimeo playlist of all your favorite music videos in HD. Your Vimeo is a Pro account. It glitters out HTML5 and softly caresses our eyelids. You have a Spotify playlist of the ’40s Japan and have—for some probably very hipster-y reason again— dedicated it to Bradley Manning. You watch a lot of documentaries. You watch a lot of music documentaries. You are so well-organized. Your iPhone Apps are sorted alphabetically and you have a container for all your music apps. You have added your own logo to your geofilter. So when you add clips to your Snapchat story everyday, it appears to everyone in heavenly pixelated patterns written in Objective C.
You like Blur! 13 is one of your all time favorites. You care a lot about Damon Albarn. Even his Monkey project. Even now that he has his own proper solo and is never like the old days. Even when he earned millions with Gorillaz and even when he was so on LSD he could not find his way back home. Even when he wanted to chop all Suede and Oasis members’ heads off. Damon Albarn is a role model to you. But don’t you dare tell me modern life is rubbish! Modern life is not rubbish. Especially modern life itself…is not rubbish. Especially you are staring at this screen to…modern life…that is not rubbish. Your very modern existence is…not any longer…rubbish.
This is good. This feels very good. What video camera do you use? What are your top 10 favorite Pavement songs? I’m organizing a Flickr album of my favorite Telefuture LP album arts. I have ordered Soylent. I want a new Aphex Twin album after 13 years. I want to make Percy Thrills Thrillington’s “Uncle Albert / Admiral Halsey” my ringtone. I want a DOOM mask. I watch The Needle Drop. I need better speakers to turn FKA Twigs up up up. I like sparkling water. I get dizzy on Dr. Pepper. Yes, Deckard was a replicant. Yes, the origami unicorn already gave you the clue.
Hey, was wondering what you think of Ben Frost? (Aurora specifically, but the other stuff too) Would love to hear your thoughts on his music.
Thanks for bringing Ben Frost up. He seems to be a good resident in our playlist. I was a little lazy to give a comprehensive repeated listen to A U R O R A because of what happens almost every time I give Frost a go: I, very quickly switch to Tim Hecker! And that is strange, I know. But coming from my immature journey so far, the brave experimentalism of a much more daring work such as 2009’s By the Throat that swiftly traveled two ends of a noise spectrum is replaced by rather disturbing welding echoes that, alas unlike Hecker, do not lead you anywhere. I am talking about moments such as the sockdolager eye-opener 39 seconds into “Killshot” that plants a nuclear distraction in a sane mind. So I would sooner stick with his older materials that luckily contain an extended body of work. I admire the work of people like Frost and their contribution to contemporary ambient and noise. However, due to their already satisfactory recognition and coverage in the blogosphere, I normally tend towards the underdog. But I promise that will not stop me from sharing anything magnificent that hits my path.
Tuesday, 19 August 2014
Tame out! Tame out! We are still yet to tackle the summer night heat. Being a winter kid does not come as a good saviour in these last remaining days of 30 celsius. But while we pray for the dark, the cold and the viking conquest, August can still bring the night breeze. And that soothing breeze would better be vaporwave or we alas are unable to broadcast the irrelevant randomness that hits you elsewhere.
There is very little distance to travel from Lonnie Liston Smith’s soul/jazz comfort of “Summer Nights” to its sampled offspring loops used in Esprit 空想. However, the song in its refurbished synth form is brought to you by a complimentary video that shows a driving car in an endless autobahn located in a nocturnal Sega universe. And that is once again context the killer who makes things happen and alters our conceptions. Or in this case, an after-party collapse-on-acid heedless sleep. This was your treat from Singapore.
The song was "Summer Night"
performed by ESPRIT 空想
from Summer Night
Forgive these miniature time-frames we designate for our personal mundane lives sometimes! There are no plans of leaving you bereft of deathly dunes. So you may as well stick with us as we fuel the voyager and re-embark on our sound journey.
Tonight’s relieving ailment stems from a tweet we received from Jonatan Söderström a while back. This is the man who has taken us to the vertical shooting contentments of Hotline Miami and Clean Asia. If you have a sharp ear for music, you should play more video games. It’s for your own mortal good.
Upon the 2D top-down visualgasm we have already nibbled on Hotline, we asked this über-dev about his favorite game outside his own creations. What we got was a world of malady, depression and hypnosis righteously manicured with muscle hedonists and swamp knights.
Space Funeral is indeed Mr. Söderström all time favorite. Yet, not surprisingly, it is filled with carefully selected tunes ranging from Les Rallizes Dénudés to BBC Radiophonic Workshop. Aren’t sadness and beauty occasionally perfect roommates? Just be your own craver and choose your own percentage!
But do not let it all come to an early end! Here are two more things you can do:
- Read about The Story Of The BBC Radiophonic Workshop
- Download Space Funeral and die in it several hundred times (very lightweight but Windows-y but still free)
The song was "Colour Radio (Fields/Town of Malice)"
performed by BBC Radiophonic Workshop
from Space Funeral Soundtrack
Today I made some progress with household chores: I created a function and let its return value be a string array. Inside that function, I created a string array called arg and gave it a size of 20. Then from my application settings’ default properties I fetched the value for the selected file’s path. I then started filling my array with all the user inputs coming from textareas, combos, toggle buttons and checkboxes. When the array was carefully filled, I returned it as the return value of my function. But I didn’t let it all be that willy-nilly. I actually put all the aforementioned codes in a try-catch-finally block and caught all the exceptions. So in case the alarm goes off, the error would be logged and the return value of the function will be null instead of a string array.
Multiply this algorithm’s complexity by a few thousands and you will get a Nintendo DS game. And using that sophisticated series of IEnumerators and IDisposables, the future “you” will be well-nurtured with nutritious 8-bit longings. But these longings are not from the kind that vanish and will be forever inaccessible. They simply have no expiration dates. They echo the candy vibe back at us through releases by The 8bitpeoples. And their latest bona fide stream of ones and zeros is Knife City’s Precious Jewel. In case this is the first time you come across them, thick chances are you will not be fully digitally eargasmed until you scroll more keenly downwards for other chaotic wavelengths.
Nota bene. Knife city is Anamanaguchi’s Luke Silas.
The song was "Goodbye! Goodbye! Goodbye!"
performed by Knife City
from Precious Jewel
The following paragraph comes from 17 Near-Death Experience Accounts from “Beyond the Light”:
I tried to see something, but all there was to see was this cyclonic void that tapered into a funnel. I kept grabbing at the sides but my fingers had nothing to grasp. Terror set in, true terror. I saw a black spot, darker than the funnel and like a black curtain, falling in front of me. Then there was a white dot, like a bright light at the end of the funnel. But as I grew closer, it was a small white skull. It became larger, grinning at me with bare sockets and gaping mouth, and traveling straight toward me like a baseball. Not only was I terrified, I was really livid, too. I struggled to grab hold of anything to keep me from falling, but the skull loomed larger. ’My kids, my baby is so little. My little boy, he’s only two years old. No!’ My words rang in my head and ears. With a bellowing yell, I screamed: ‘No! damn it, no! Let me go. My babies need me! No! No! No! No!’ ~ P. M. H. Atwater, the near-death story of Gloria Hipple of Blakeslee
I was cruel but nakedly honest in a conversation with two friends on my view about the future generations a while ago. And that came straight from my bleak candid opinion on death. And I’m still sticking to that: We are no longer there in human form! So your investment in the posthumous world minus you goes completely to waste. Once you head for the happy hunting ground, the moral values such as helping others, sympathy and kindness are of no significance and priority. It is like asking Raggedy Ann to take care of your pet squirrel. So why worry about something in the eon in which you are no longer valid or functional? And a good name to remain? What is a good name? In this desolate state of unbeing Manson equals Mao equals Mahatma equals Mohammad. And neither are a part of this equilibrium. How is that for a near-death emptiness? I guess all we can do is to take a chill pill and go carpe diem while it lasts. To help, watch Sam Harris make a lot of sense out of death in absence of religion.
And I hope that assembles you for what you are about to hear above. The death-ful dark room of The Body in I Shall Die Here. Adding up to the lingering gore merciless plunge into the void is Bobby Krlic (The Haxan Cloak) behind the edit. I’m sorry but you should totally expect these material occasionally mindfucking you. Tickling your nerves for the sake of the sound is the mission we are hoping to achieve.
This fourth full-length from The Body saw the light of day (or did it?) on April’s Fool day this year via RVNG Intl. We are not the ones who discovered it but that does not make it any less ghost-fm-ly.
The song was "Our Souls Were Clean"
performed by The Body
from I Shall Die Here