Showing posts with label performance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label performance. Show all posts

Saturday, September 11, 2021

something about a debut from a Dutch doom-noise trio

Each sate sullenly apart, gorging himself in gloom. – Lord Byron
Farer debuted last fall with Monad, four songs—exercises, really—of droning grinds of blistering, drilling bass; thunder-and-lightning drums; feedback; and throat-herniating, injurious shrieks that are more primal scream therapy than performance.

The doom-noise trio (two bass players and a drummer) started as Menhir in 2013 but changed the name to Farer in 2019 after recording this debut. The intensity in these four tracks carries on for 12 to 14 minutes at a time, and this prolonged length can recast the intensity as a drone effect.

This Dutch band is working out a sound. What they have so far is grim and brutal, all right. It's a
difficult, hungering debut.
 
Monad was released in November 2020 through Aesthetic Death and Tartarus Records. (On September 24th, it will be available as a limited edition clear and black marbled-color double-LP housed in a heavy gatefold
.)



Friday, May 19, 2017

Saturday, April 08, 2017

(posts) "What Am I Doing Hangin' Round" by The Monkees



"What Am I Doing Hanging 'Round?"

Just a loud mouth Yankee I went down to Mexico.
I didn't have much time to spend, about a week or so.
There I lightly took advantage of a girl who loved me so.
But I found myself a-thinkin' when the time had come to go...

What am I doin' hangin' round?
I should be on that train and gone.
I should be ridin' on that train to San Antone,
What am I doin' hangin' round?
She took me to the garden just for a little walk.
I didn't know much Spanish and there was no time for talk.
Then she told me that she loved me not with words but with a kiss.
And like a fool I kept on thinkin' of a train I could not miss...

What am I doin' hangin' round?
I should be on that train and gone.
I should be ridin' on that train to San Antone,
What am I doin' hangin' round?
Well it's been a year or so, and I want to go back again.
And if I get the money, well I'll ride the same old train.
But I guess your chances come but once and boy I sure missed mine.
And still I can't stop thinkin' when I hear some whistle cryin'....

What am I doin' hangin' round?
I should be on that train and gone.
I should be ridin' on that train to San Antone,
What am I doin' hangin' round?

Note:
At 0:24, Nesmith appears to sneer at someone (or something) off camera.


Saturday, July 09, 2016

(posts) Hall & Oates performing "She's Gone"


"Rich Girl" and "You Make My Dreams Come True"? Both great songs. But "She's Gone" is my favorite. 

 

Written by Daryl Hall and John Oates, "She's Gone" appeared on the duo's 1973 album, Abandoned Luncheonette. This video captures them playing it in early 1976.


Saturday, September 13, 2014

(or posts) "Career Opportunities" by The Clash




Career Opportunities
 -by The Clash

The offered me the office, offered me the shop
They said I'd better take anything they'd got
Do you wanna make tea at the BBC?
Do you wanna be, do you really wanna be a cop?

Career opportunities are the ones that never knock
Every job they offer you is to keep you out the dock
Career opportunity, the ones that never knock

I hate the army and I hate the R.A.F.
I don't wanna go fighting in the tropical heat
I hate the civil service rules
And I won't open letter bombs for you

Career opportunities are the ones that never knock
Every job they offer you is to keep you out the dock
Career opportunity, the ones that never knock

Bus driver; ambulance man; ticket inspector

They're gonna have to introduce conscription
They're gonna have to take away my prescription
If they wanna get me making toys
If they wanna get me, well, I got no choice

Careers
Careers
Careers

Ain't never gonna knock


Wednesday, July 11, 2012

About the film "Wings of Desire"


This Wim Wenders directed film follows a spirit who's tired of the spiritual and yearns for physical existence. The spirit is an angel named Damiel, and his journeys with his companion, Cassiel, expose the isolation inherent in the human condition. But, moreover, Damiel's particular existential crisis gently urges us to appreciate the little things and decide for ourselves that life matters.

The angels can hear people's thoughts, so thinking makes up most of the film's dialog. I enjoyed Cassiel's going to the library where he finds other angels listening to books being narrated in people's minds as they read. There he finds an old man whom he follows, is drawn to perhaps because the aged traveler is so enduring and purposeful, who self-identifies as a storyteller, an indispensable part of humanity.

Meanwhile, Damiel wanders into a low-budget children's circus whose star performer is a beautiful, unfulfilled trapeze artist named Marion. He falls for her, lusts for her, and is spellbound by her poetically lonely train of thought. They share a yearning.

Damiel brings Cassiel to that night's circus performance, which is to be the last of the year. But as Damiel absorbs the show, Cassiel sees how deeply his companion feels the need to live. Afterwards Damiel confesses as much. Marion, while celebrating at the circus staff's after-party, pauses and, in her thoughts, appreciates being alive. Hearing this, Damiel's heart breaks.

So he resolves to become real, and when an empty piece of body armor crashes onto his head, Damiel wakes in a vacant lot, apparently knocked unconscious after being dropped from Heaven--a helicopter hovering overhead. To be human is to be vulnerable, so he pawns his rickety old armor and finds Marion at a night club. There, they each taste of the wine from the bar and she asks him to join her in a life of consequence, to live as if they are setting new precedents for future generations.

The story inverts the usual paradigm: instead of man imagining and chronicling heaven as the grand but remote paradise, the angels imagine and chronicle man as the simple and immediate body, and they do so in ways that elevate man without pretending he’s a miracle. This inversion is sacrilegious, but it does no harm.

The viewing audience watches the angels watch the people. When a scene calls for your sympathy and you feel that sympathy, you feel the sympathy of the angels, you see Earth through the angels’ eyes. For example, in one scene we peek in on a small family and find a young man alone in his bedroom, sulking and brooding over how nobody knows he’s alive, but then we learn his dad is sitting alone in front of the TV and worrying about his son’s future while mom sits alone in the kitchen doing the same.

Notes
  • Peter Falk of course is really charming in this, single-handedly keeping a good chunk of the film interesting. ("Columbo" is one of the best series ever.)
  • Cassiel urges someone to his shoes correctly--using a double knot.

Tuesday, June 26, 2012

About "The Kids in the Hall" TV show


Re-watching this series, I'm reminded it wasn't that funny. But the show's not-being-funny is an acceptable risk--acceptable because its value for me lie in its ethos. "The Kids in the Hall" cast consisted of comedic performers more so than comedy actors; they were creatives rather than laugh-getters, and their schtick was absurdity. Any given sketch might (1) focus on the orthodoxy of their having to have a premise or be funny or be likeable or act famous, (2) have no premise and instead start in the middle of a scene, or (3) be a monologue. "The Kids in the Hall" was more like "Monty Python" than "Saturday Night Live", but shared properties of both, combining them and re-interpreting them as something pretty unique. Some credit for the show's willingness to take risks belongs undoubtedly to Lorne Michaels. But despite this, it doesn't make for a lot of entertaining television.

Notes
  • I can only watch in very small doses.

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

Last night

Awed. Moved. Speechless. But a little burdened, too. Like some great secret was shared with me but I didn't know what it meant and no one caresd. I went to bed thinking, That was so awesome, and woke up thinking, So, so awesome. Not much can move me like that. Not "move" like the way a powerful movie can move you, but like the way a world wonder can move you. The music and the venue and the performance and the performers all teemed with a penetrating glow that inspired in me the still wonder that can set a quiet little boy on edge. The songs were alive.

Justin Vernon thanked opening act Kathleen Edwards and described himself years ago listening to her records and drowning his pain in whiskey. He said that tracing the thread in this life is hard but music was his thread and it lead him there and to her and to a better place. He was in a wonderful place.

Tuesday, May 10, 2011

The Wrestler

It is not a role; it is not even an alter ego. In the film The Wrestler, professional wrestler Robin Ramzinski's in-the-ring persona, Randy "The Ram" Robinson, is real. It's who he is.

"The Ram" fights larger-than-life villains, endures incredible punishment, and absorbs the adulation of fans. His life is high drama. But the needs and ego of such a character render the man outside the ring dysfunctional. He can't sustain a relationship or a job because each demands that he recognize the needs of others and endure punishments that are less physical and bloody but real nevertheless--and often less dignified.

And as the times change and his original fans move on, the limbo known as life between matches gets longer and harder. By the time the film begins, Randy is already nearly invisible, sleeping in a van in a trailer park, far out from under the lights of the ring. By contrast we see Randy's fictional former arch enemy "The Sheik", who now runs a successful car dealership. When he returns for a reunion match, "The Sheik" is thinking business because that's his life now.

We don't know why or how Robin became Randy so completely. The Wrestler just gives us a biographical glimpse of professional wrestler Robin Ramzinski in the twilight of his career. But as far as Randy "The Ram" is concerned, this is simply the end.