Blog: An Idiot's Guide to Dreaming

Try to listen to lots of this kind of stuff but not very much gets my attention beyond a cursory quarter-listen, mostly because I'm normally struggling with some elliptical Philosophical half-theory but... this has a distinct whiff of Twin Peaks about it, which can only be a good thing. Books by chloe harris aka raica More here .

Ever so slightly unsettling , geisha-faced EBMish poptartings from 1993: Found via the anonymous comments at this post . A little more EBM (they call it EBB) is this one, by Soft Ballet, also discovered via Deep Throat:

...playing a lot of Keith's stuff at the moment; the blechs and twinkles and abstractions and machine lisps are soundtracking the last few days at work, bridging to the Summer proper... ... and this, by Sam Prekop (from his album Old Punch Card ) is a related vein, slightly more pop and gasping... less inclined to headddddddddown myelin-sheathed God busting (No idea, either) but pretty as hell... more prettiness, I think; I'm done for the moment with the depths...

This is a remix of the review over at Freq . This is a work in progress about a work of progress. A split album in all senses. << >> Split seams... or spilt seems Side A is Debussy's La Mer played on sawtoothed (maybe snaggletoothed) electronics. (((arpeggios that didn't follow the usual waves of the sea, that didn't submit to the ravages of what others thought the sea must sound like, but instead turned [...]

From The Wytch Machine...

Oh Lazy Sunday mornings... Me and Littlest Loki spent this one making him a t-shirt with all the bands he listened to and liked in the first few days of his life... From The Wytch Machine...

Oh Lazy Sunday mornings... Me and Littlest Loki spent this one making him a t-shirt with all the bands he listened to and liked in the first few days of his life... From The Wytch Machine...

Liking: though none more morose than the 'liker', the stolen wish-fulfiller who ran with Eros and then took out her younger sister! The inexplicable signs of reason compete and manifest, all for nothing, yes and always yes, but a wondrous nothing of escapes and a tired lack of reason itself is a while away, still. The worst of these bands - the typologies, as far as can be written down and de-meaned, can hope to compete in a market of what were then called marketing opportunities and are now called [...]

Liking: though none more morose than the 'liker', the stolen wish-fulfiller who ran with Eros and then took out her younger sister! The inexplicable signs of reason compete and manifest, all for nothing, yes and always yes, but a wondrous nothing of escapes and a tired lack of reason itself is a while away, still. The worst of these bands - the typologies, as far as can be written down and de-meaned, can hope to compete in a market of what were then called marketing opportunities and are now called [...]

Would you buy a fried breakfast off this man? From The Wytch Machine...

I love the way Little Annie says the word cigarette; she makes it an onamatopoeic word. This is a little bit like a Rollins rant, a slight detourn of Steven Jesse Bernstein. A No No Woman in the sub-basement of hell. It's not as good as this one of course: ...but you could put it in the same box. Full review of the Larsen album will appear at Freqzine fairly soon.

sourced of sorts from the bare bones of Fredgeogblog , which will apparently turn into a horticulture/music blog: what is the best music for mulching? BP is clearly syntactically/visually related to Bjork , a slicing and dicing of some of her best popbits, with maybe a smile of Lykke Li about the edges... Lyrics seem Bjorkish too... oddly-hinged flights of fancy and a fascination with tropes/archetypes She dances better , though.

You know, the one with the proto Moon Wiring Club sleeve... The Blind Mice are frightening. Like they've been drawn by Francis Bacon, like they've been speared in the eye sockets, or had methyl-blue dropped into them as part of some awful Mengele experiment...

Image stolen from the mad mentals of R.K.Sloane In the middle of a mini-renaissance of new music listening at the moment, mostly a result of moonlicking as a reviewer at Freq , the evergood fulcrum loined from Richard Fontenoy - a guy it turns out is good friends with some old Yeovil buddies and who I've also probably met way back in the times when I'd hump up the road to that London to watch The Revolting Cocks or whoever... small small world - ironically, I'd sent a chance email [...]

Dismissed Wooden Shjips before (bit harsh perhaps, just not really noticed them before), but this cover of Gainsbourg/Bardot's Contact (surely everyone's favourite 'alien girl gets injured in space and needs to strip for a mercury transfusion' song) has a loping, electronica feel, despite it mostly being gentle chugggs and spacey guitars. The sounds could be switched - synth buzzes for the guitars - and you'd get something along the lines of Ekoplekz... especially the stuff he churns over live, the longforms rather than the snappy Robert Rentals. You're not believing me, I can tell. I'll stop. [...]

my inbox is taking on the hue of an abandoned betting office, a stockbroking floor after dark...but I'm picking my way slowly, laboriously through all the digital promos that have backed up and just thought I'd just stuff a few bands down some throats... These guys are moving towards something, I think. Not there yet, still in SonicYouthAwe maybe but I can see something happening... there's something, I dunno, around the eyes, that makes me think this band will keep getting better... Like I say, it's not there yet but... Anyway, I'm on a [...]

A throwaway comment on Twitter ended up throwing me back to some old Mokum tracks... didn't even know these guys still existed... thought the scene/label had been annihilated /sublimated by the I Wanna Be A Hippy crossover/dance-smash... ...the pisstaking sub Blue Sunshine look on the video seemed to cause a rift between the appearance (from outside The Netherlands) and the reality but it seems I missed the point a bit about what it was about... i.e. from here , gabber seemed inexplicable / impossible in a broader cross-cultural mileu... [...]

Loving this girl's voice... and this song, especially in it's remixed version, is like hearing Billy Bragg's A New England sung by children as you're coming out of a anaesthetic fog; I wonder if that was intentional? Either way, it's subtle, trippy and very beautiful... Taken By Trees are (is?) one to watch.

I dunno... there's stuff just like this everywhere , stuff like this crawling from under rocks, into storm drains, out of badly brushed mouths but... there's something a little off about this and I like it when something grabs you by the throat & makes you pay attention to it specifically , rather than simply echo off it's ancestors, friends, family members... even in a crowded, saturated, chain-smoked field the bass here is gutting... the name, the not Skepta... and the simplicity itself is like a- Actually, the thing I like about [...]

As a partially relevant add-end-um... to Kek's piece on the Britney/Salem collaboration (it's not a remix, even if both parties say it is) this seems to encapsulate the fluffier side of the chillwaves, with the assumption that a slightly slowed Britney is less witch-like, more glacial/glazed and should therefore sit snugly with the likes of Nite Jewel... ...but it's the title that really adds something here. The song is Nite Jewel, whatever that means to you (to me, it means a fantastic Summer last year in New York) but the song isn't [...]