from grooveshark: Dengue Fever is a six-member band from Los Angeles who combine Cambodian pop music and lyrics with psychedelic rock.
Heard this song on KEFC and it sounded quintessential SE-Asian. And pretty good.
Friday, 21 December 2012
Thursday, 20 December 2012
Hundred Waters - "Hundred Waters"
Electronica with voices, from USA.
Nice. Quiet enough for work. Piano work.
Nice. Quiet enough for work. Piano work.
Friday, 14 December 2012
Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds - "(I'll love you) Till The End Of The World" (Until the End Of The World OST)
The parlando parts can be used directly in Nightporter.
The singing parts are very... poppy.
The singing parts are very... poppy.
Thursday, 13 December 2012
B. Bumble & the Stingers - "Nautilus"
craziest hippie/ weed music!
Awesome when drunk or high, even better when sober.
Awesome when drunk or high, even better when sober.
The Crazy World of Arthur Brown - "Fire!"
Who knew that this contained the original (?) quote: "I'm the God of hell fire (and I'm gonna make you burn!)"
Awesome.
Awesome.
Wednesday, 12 December 2012
Tori Amos - "Carnival"
Slow, a hint of darkness, later suddenly switching to a faster-paced beat.
Encountered on the soundtrack of "Mission Impossible II" (yeah, I know)
Encountered on the soundtrack of "Mission Impossible II" (yeah, I know)
Tuesday, 11 December 2012
Tindersticks - "The Something Rain"
- Chocolate: soft constant talking over melancholy music. Tindersticks at their best.
- Show Me Everything: singing
- A Night So Still: soft and quiet
- Medicine: tickling rhythm. breathtaking
- Goodbye Joe: a lullaby
Scott Walker - "Bish Bosch"
Celebrated by all the independent music lovers it seems. Listening to a few of the songs, but it's too experimental, definitely while working.
Friday, 7 December 2012
Flaming Lips - "I can be a frog" (Embryonic)
Funny and melancholy, Karen O's giggling animal imitation is a nice offset against the sad melody.
(Karen O., stage name of Karen Lee Orzolek, singer of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs)
(Karen O., stage name of Karen Lee Orzolek, singer of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs)
Flaming Lips - "The Great Gig in the Sky" (The Flaming Lips and Stardeath and White Dwarfs with Henry Rollins and Peaches Doing The Dark Side of the Moon)
(I actually never posted something concerning Pink Floyd?!)
The whole album sounds pretty true to the original. This song in particular has a bit of a modern bite to it.
The whole album sounds pretty true to the original. This song in particular has a bit of a modern bite to it.
Thursday, 6 December 2012
Philip Glass - "Rework_"
,Remixes.
- Music in 12 parts: very electronic, Ratatat-ish. Done by somebody called "My Great Ghost"
- "Alight Spiral Snip" done by Dan Daecon. Very Philip Glass' "music with changing parts"
- Beck: "NYC 73-78" is kinda hypnotic at some point.
- Jóhann Jóhannsson - "Protest remix", with voices and beat. nice.
- Peter Broderick - "Island remix"... hypnotizing.. Good!
Scott Walker - "Bish Bosch"
Strange, half-electronic, shaking music. A high kind of singing, wavering, a bit like Anthony, then suddenly it explodes with weird sounds and loops.
Not exactly to my liking.
Not exactly to my liking.
Sunday, 2 December 2012
Piet Meeuse - "Het kraaien van de haan"
Aardig concept van een tijdsreiziger die terugkeert naar het jaar 0 - vlak erna - Jezus ontmoet en ongewild de Judas rol toegespeeld krijgt.
Echter:
Echter:
- taalgebruik van de karakters was prut: "Judas! Godverdomme dat had ik weer". Overigens is het gebruik van godverdomme al vreemd.
- omschrijvingen waren niet goed, metaforen hinkten
- de logica van het verhaal, de innerlogica van de karakters klopte niet. Er werd te gemakkelijk naar het bijbelverhaal toegeschreven, teveel wil gesuggereerd terwijl die er niet was, zonder de woede slechts een pion te zijn.
Thursday, 22 November 2012
random words
Aware (Japanese)
Aware is a word, quite well-known, for the bittersweetness of a brief and fading moment of transcendent beauty. It's that "last burst of summer" feel, or the transience of early spring.
Maya (Sanskrit)
This word is one that could be applied to a lot of protest movements and many political speeches. It refers to belief — the often unfortunate belief — that the symbol of a thing is the same as the thing itself. It's the, "Ceci n'est pas une pipe," of the literary world.
Wei-wu-wei (Chinese)
Wei-wu-wei is conscious nonaction. It's a deliberate, and principled, decision to do nothing whatsoever, and to do it for a particular reason.
Bricoleur du Dimanche (French)
A bricoleur is someone who starts building something with no clear plan, adding bits here and there, cobbling together a whole while flying by the seat of their pants.
Verschlimmbesserung (German)
A verschlimmbesserung is a supposed improvement that makes things worse. There are actually a lot of words for this in a lot of languages, and that makes me think that English needs to get on the ball and coin a native word for this concept. Everyone needs it.
Orenda (Huron)
Orenda is the invocation of the power of human will to change the world around us. It is set up to be the opposing force to fate or destiny. If powerful forces beyond your control are trying to force you one way, orenda is a kind of voiced summoning of personal strength to change fate.
Gâchis (French)
This one means 'a wasted opportunity.' Specifically it means an opportunity that was wasted by ineptness being hurled at it from all directions.
Kalpa (Sanskrit)
Time passing on a cosmic scale
Razbliuto (Russian) Update: Or English!
This word, pronounced ros-blee-OO-toe, describes the feeling that a person (generally meant to be a man) has for the person who he once loved, but now no longer loves.
Aware is a word, quite well-known, for the bittersweetness of a brief and fading moment of transcendent beauty. It's that "last burst of summer" feel, or the transience of early spring.
Maya (Sanskrit)
This word is one that could be applied to a lot of protest movements and many political speeches. It refers to belief — the often unfortunate belief — that the symbol of a thing is the same as the thing itself. It's the, "Ceci n'est pas une pipe," of the literary world.
Wei-wu-wei (Chinese)
Wei-wu-wei is conscious nonaction. It's a deliberate, and principled, decision to do nothing whatsoever, and to do it for a particular reason.
Bricoleur du Dimanche (French)
A bricoleur is someone who starts building something with no clear plan, adding bits here and there, cobbling together a whole while flying by the seat of their pants.
Verschlimmbesserung (German)
A verschlimmbesserung is a supposed improvement that makes things worse. There are actually a lot of words for this in a lot of languages, and that makes me think that English needs to get on the ball and coin a native word for this concept. Everyone needs it.
Orenda (Huron)
Orenda is the invocation of the power of human will to change the world around us. It is set up to be the opposing force to fate or destiny. If powerful forces beyond your control are trying to force you one way, orenda is a kind of voiced summoning of personal strength to change fate.
Gâchis (French)
This one means 'a wasted opportunity.' Specifically it means an opportunity that was wasted by ineptness being hurled at it from all directions.
Kalpa (Sanskrit)
Time passing on a cosmic scale
Razbliuto (Russian) Update: Or English!
This word, pronounced ros-blee-OO-toe, describes the feeling that a person (generally meant to be a man) has for the person who he once loved, but now no longer loves.
etymological fallacy
Using etymology to govern usage is known as the "etymological fallacy." Usage is governed by, you guessed it, use, not the origin of the word. The origin, of course, influences how a word is used in that it provides the starting point, but meanings shift over time, and lexicographers come up with their definitions by surveying how people actually use the words, not by studying the etymology. In other words, it is unreasonable to determine today's usage based on how the language was used a thousand years ago. If it were reasonable, we'd still be using "silly" to mean "blessed, fortunate" and "awful" to mean "inspiring wonder.". . . If people today perceive it as sexist, it is sexist, regardless of how it was used in ages past.
Linguistics researcher Dave Wilton, author of Word Myths: Debunking Linguistic Urban Legends
Linguistics researcher Dave Wilton, author of Word Myths: Debunking Linguistic Urban Legends
Saturday, 17 November 2012
Friday, 16 November 2012
Jack Gilbert - "“The forgotten dialect of the heart"
“How astonishing it is that language can almost mean,
and frightening that it does not quite.”
and frightening that it does not quite.”
Thursday, 15 November 2012
16 Horsepower - "Horse Head Fiddle" (Folklore)
Slow, nearly drone like, as far as that's possible within Americana.
Fun - (some songs on TV)
have seen them at Stephen Colbert's "Colbert Report" and now at Saturday Night Live (SNL).
It's weird, there's something to the sound that I like, *though* I am not a fan of the African based sound in general.
But then he pulls out the vocoder, and I start spitting anger.
It's weird, there's something to the sound that I like, *though* I am not a fan of the African based sound in general.
But then he pulls out the vocoder, and I start spitting anger.
David Hernandez - "At The Post Office"
The line is long, processional, glacial,
and the attendant a giant stone, cobalt blue
with flecks of white, I’m not so much
looking at a rock but a slab of night.
The stone asks if anything inside the package
is perishable. When I say no the stone
laughs, muted thunderclap, meaning
everything decays, not just fruit
or cut flowers, but paper, ink, the CD
I burned with music, and my friend
waiting to hear the songs, some little joy
after chemo eroded the tumor. I know flesh
is temporary, and memory a tilting barn
the elements dismantle nail by nail.
I know the stone knows a millennia of rain
and wind will even grind away
his ragged face, and all of this slow erasing
is just a prelude to when the swelling
universe burns out, goes dark, holds
nothing but black holes, the bones of stars
and planets, a vast silence. The stone
is stone-faced. The stone asks how soon
I want the package delivered. As fast
as possible, I say, then start counting the days.
and the attendant a giant stone, cobalt blue
with flecks of white, I’m not so much
looking at a rock but a slab of night.
The stone asks if anything inside the package
is perishable. When I say no the stone
laughs, muted thunderclap, meaning
everything decays, not just fruit
or cut flowers, but paper, ink, the CD
I burned with music, and my friend
waiting to hear the songs, some little joy
after chemo eroded the tumor. I know flesh
is temporary, and memory a tilting barn
the elements dismantle nail by nail.
I know the stone knows a millennia of rain
and wind will even grind away
his ragged face, and all of this slow erasing
is just a prelude to when the swelling
universe burns out, goes dark, holds
nothing but black holes, the bones of stars
and planets, a vast silence. The stone
is stone-faced. The stone asks how soon
I want the package delivered. As fast
as possible, I say, then start counting the days.
Wednesday, 14 November 2012
Snooks Eaglin - misc
Indirectly suggested by Pandora when liking Tom Waits' sound to this.
- "Let Me Go Home, Whiskey" - bit more New Orleans blues
- "Saint James Infirmary" - okay version
Tuesday, 13 November 2012
fernweh
(German)
literally, “farsickness”; “an ache for the distance” ; wanderlust
Synonyms: Wanderlust
Antonyms: Heimweh
literally, “farsickness”; “an ache for the distance” ; wanderlust
Synonyms: Wanderlust
Antonyms: Heimweh
Melancholy Attacks!
Not really. But still.
- George Michael - "Tonight"
- Zager & Evans - "(In the) Year 2525"
Alan W. Watts - "This is it - become what you are"
(again that floating Zen sound! I think it is a test, and I just failed again.)
There is a secret conspiracy between all insides and all outsides. That is, that they appear to be different, but deep down they are the same.
spot-light consciousness: talking to the person next to you in the car
flood-light consciousness: driving the road.
Particularly Western civilisation focuses on spot-light conscious.
Those who fully experience their flood-light conscious, they have a mystical experience.
There is a secret conspiracy between all insides and all outsides. That is, that they appear to be different, but deep down they are the same.
spot-light consciousness: talking to the person next to you in the car
flood-light consciousness: driving the road.
Particularly Western civilisation focuses on spot-light conscious.
Those who fully experience their flood-light conscious, they have a mystical experience.
Tom McRae - "Sloop John B"
(via http://toys.tumblrist.com/audio/invisiblestories/1)
A well known song, executed in almost minimalistic style.
Original by the Beach Boys, based on a traditional West Indies folk song.
A well known song, executed in almost minimalistic style.
Original by the Beach Boys, based on a traditional West Indies folk song.
Photos to make you silent
it won't help against the rage or fury or anger of office- and every day life.
but it sure is beautiful:
http://butdoesitfloat.com/That-there-should-be-a-reality-hidden-behind-appearances-is-after-all
That there should be a reality hidden behind appearances is, after all, quite possible; that language might render such a thing would be an absurd hope. So why burden yourself with one opinion rather than another — why recoil from the banal or the inconceivable from the duty of saying and of writing anything at all? A modicum of wisdom would compel us to sustain all theses at once, in an eclecticism of smiling destruction.
That there should be a reality hidden behind appearances is, after all, quite possible; that language might render such a thing would be an absurd hope. So why burden yourself with one opinion rather than another — why recoil from the banal or the inconceivable from the duty of saying and of writing anything at all? A modicum of wisdom would compel us to sustain all theses at once, in an eclecticism of smiling destruction.
Monday, 12 November 2012
Psychopomp
Psychopomps (from the Greek word ψυχοπομπός - psuchopompos, literally meaning the "guide of souls")[1] are creatures, spirits, angels, or deities in many religions whose responsibility is to escort newly deceased souls to the afterlife. Their role is not to judge the deceased, but simply provide safe passage. Frequently depicted on funerary art, psychopomps have been associated at different times and in different cultures with horses, Whip-poor-wills, ravens, dogs, crows, owls, sparrows, cuckoos, and harts.
In Jungian psychology, the psychopomp is a mediator between the unconscious and conscious realms. It is symbolically personified in dreams as a wise man or woman, or sometimes as a helpful animal. In many cultures, the shaman also fulfills the role of the psychopomp. This may include not only accompanying the soul of the dead, but also vice versa: to help at birth, to introduce the newborn child's soul to the world (p. 36 of).[2] This also accounts for the contemporary title of "midwife to the dying," which is another form of psychopomp work.
In Jungian psychology, the psychopomp is a mediator between the unconscious and conscious realms. It is symbolically personified in dreams as a wise man or woman, or sometimes as a helpful animal. In many cultures, the shaman also fulfills the role of the psychopomp. This may include not only accompanying the soul of the dead, but also vice versa: to help at birth, to introduce the newborn child's soul to the world (p. 36 of).[2] This also accounts for the contemporary title of "midwife to the dying," which is another form of psychopomp work.
Alan W. Watts - "God Complex"
Western beliefs install dogmas.
Eastern beliefs try to change your mental attitude (constituency?)
Jesus didn't say: I am the son of God.
He said: I am a son of God.
He said he was divine.
As we are all.
wonderful talk, though that silly music could really have been left out. Words like this don't need musical annotation or nice views of the world. Let the words just be themselves, let them be words, and that is enough.
Eastern beliefs try to change your mental attitude (constituency?)
Jesus didn't say: I am the son of God.
He said: I am a son of God.
He said he was divine.
As we are all.
wonderful talk, though that silly music could really have been left out. Words like this don't need musical annotation or nice views of the world. Let the words just be themselves, let them be words, and that is enough.
Alan W. Watts - "Nothingness"
Ex nihilo, nihil fit - out of Nothing, Nothing comes
I can see the fallacy, as Alan Watts calls it, for without nothing there isn't anything. (yet saying that the basic constant of everything is contrast, would quite likely not be approved)
I don't like this short documentary. It's a fast edited - for this subject - selection of what he says. But too concise, too incoherent in its compactness.
I can see the fallacy, as Alan Watts calls it, for without nothing there isn't anything. (yet saying that the basic constant of everything is contrast, would quite likely not be approved)
I don't like this short documentary. It's a fast edited - for this subject - selection of what he says. But too concise, too incoherent in its compactness.
Kristen Iskandrian - "The Inheritors" (in Tin Magazine)
I like being sad, which mystified her; I like it until I reach the nadir where sadness changes, as if chemically, to repulsion and selfloathing, making me wish tht I was "capable" of "handling" things instead of turning away from them in disgust until my disgust disgusts me, and my anger at my inadeuacy as a human being angers me, and all of that pure, easy, delectable sorrow gets squandered. She refused, cheerfully, to understand this, and it wasn't her refusal that was maddening but her cheer.
Nice story. No real ending, but in the pondering way that makes you stare ahead for a while, a story with enough threads to try to continue weaving, but you notice that all the plucking might make the original come loose.
Nice story. No real ending, but in the pondering way that makes you stare ahead for a while, a story with enough threads to try to continue weaving, but you notice that all the plucking might make the original come loose.
Upstart Crow - playlist
- DAAU - not sure
- unknown - Dance me to the end of love (instrumental)
- Ennio Morricone - unknown. definitely not the film's version. (or maybe not even Ennio Morricone. No, it's not. But it's sad and full of longing.)
Sunday, 11 November 2012
Chris Isaak - "Dancin'" (Silvertone)
Song itself is not incredibly special, but his vocal cries are haunting in a gripping way.
Godspeed, You Black Emperor! - "Static: Terrible Canyons Of Static: Atomic Clock; Chart #3; World Police and Friendly Fire; Buildings, They Are Sleeping Now" (Lift Your Skinny Fists Like Antennas To Heaven)
Insanity soundscapes like only G!YBE can play them.
Amazing. Musical LSD.
Amazing. Musical LSD.
Alan W. Watts - "On Being Vague"
search on youtube. Amazing description on how to view the need for description, for exact analysis, and how the Eastern philosophers thought about it.
To analyse it, is to kill it, basically: "After all, playing the violin is just stroking cat's entrails with horse hair. Stars are just radioactive, burning stones."
To analyse it, is to kill it, basically: "After all, playing the violin is just stroking cat's entrails with horse hair. Stars are just radioactive, burning stones."
Patti Smith - "Seneca"
starts soft and careful parlando.
a breakable song.
And her "Because the night" is still breathtaking. (and forget I discovered it through the eurohouse cover, ok?)
a breakable song.
And her "Because the night" is still breathtaking. (and forget I discovered it through the eurohouse cover, ok?)
Alice Munro - "Dolly" (in Tin Magazine)
What had happened to me was not uncommon, I thought. Not in books or in life. There should be, there must be, some well-worn way of dealing with it. Walking like this, of course. But you have to stop, even in a town this size, you have to stop, for cars and red lights. Also, there were people going round in such clumsy ways, stopping and starting, and schoolchildren, like the ones I used to keep in order - so many of them, and so idiotic, with their yelps and yells and the redundancy, the sheer unnecessity of their existence. Everywhere an insult in your face. This is life, everything proclaimed.
Must figure out how she writes, for it's not obvious yet beautiful.
Must figure out how she writes, for it's not obvious yet beautiful.
Amy Hempel - "A Full-Service Shelter" (in Tin Magazine)
Not sure I read it before, but a good read showing how a very simple structure ("They know us...", "they know me...") can be used and developed without becoming boring.
Plus, of course, Amy Hempel's insanely good writing.
Read in the Tin Magazine.
Plus, of course, Amy Hempel's insanely good writing.
Read in the Tin Magazine.
Saturday, 10 November 2012
Gary Jules - "Mad World" clip
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4N3N1MlvVc4
original clip, where children make figures on the sidewalk. Wonderful.
original clip, where children make figures on the sidewalk. Wonderful.
Lupe Fiasco vs Bill O'Reilly
I cannot say I have heard any of the rapsongs by Lupe Fiasco. From the short clips they showed, I don't think I would care much for them. And yes, that is solely based on the *music*, not on the words. Rap isn't my music. Live with it.
But to see him in an interview with Bill O'Reilly, and smashing the latter, now that, sir, I call a classic.
Tip of the hat, as Colbert would have it.
But to see him in an interview with Bill O'Reilly, and smashing the latter, now that, sir, I call a classic.
Tip of the hat, as Colbert would have it.
Friday, 9 November 2012
Catatonia - misc
Since I am on a Tom Jones' spree since "Chill & Fever", I listened to Space's "Ballad of Tom Jones", and so happened to come across Catatonia, the band of Cerys Matthews who does guest vocals on Space's album.
Good enough, the same distinct use of her voice.
Good enough, the same distinct use of her voice.
- Bulimic Beats - strange
Eleni Mandell - "Pauline" (Thrill)
Pauline
More than a memory girl
It's good to mishear commas at times.
On Marianne Faithfull channel. Strange song.
More than a memory girl
It's good to mishear commas at times.
On Marianne Faithfull channel. Strange song.
dEUS - "Following Sea"
Wonderful album.
- Quatre Mains - french, fast
- Hidden Wounds - Like Eels' Novocaine for the Soul, probably caused by the parlando. Intense lyrics.
Thursday, 8 November 2012
dEUS - "Fire UP the Google Beast Algorithm" (Following Sea)
amazing song. I have to transcribe the lyrics.
Liszt - "Héroïde funèbre"
majestic, dark. Not as sweeping as I would secretly demand from such a piece, but still.
Amanda Palmer - "Billy Jean"
for the record, I hate live recordings of the iPhone variety.
This deserves an exception.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zTaI7pu-6ps
This deserves an exception.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zTaI7pu-6ps
Ayize Jama-Everett - "The Liminal People"
It felt like a badly written X-Men novel. The prose just couldn't grab me and at times it was way too explicit. Not in a sexual sense, but the horrible reverse of "show, don't tell"
Finished it quickly and couldn't care much for the characters.
Finished it quickly and couldn't care much for the characters.
William S. Burroughs - quotes
(from Break Through in Grey Room and other audio recordings)
Of course you have peace of mind. Your mind is a mental cemetary.
If you cut up the present, the future leaks out.
Of course you have peace of mind. Your mind is a mental cemetary.
If you cut up the present, the future leaks out.
U.N.K.L.E. - "Beautiful Burnout"
I keep forgetting how much I love this song.
Road trip music in a long long night.
Road trip music in a long long night.
Wednesday, 7 November 2012
U2 - "The Joshua Tree"
This tape has been running circles in Ursula for quite some time now. Amazing roadtrip music. "Outside is America... outside is America...!"
(this is obviously not "The Unforgettable Fire"... geez)
(this is obviously not "The Unforgettable Fire"... geez)
Arcade Fire - "Suburbs"
Never really listened to their album "Suburbs".
It's not as impressive as "Funeral", but has for sure some interesting songs. Must listen again.
* Sprawl I (Flatland) - sad... let's take a drive.. through the sprawl...
It's not as impressive as "Funeral", but has for sure some interesting songs. Must listen again.
* Sprawl I (Flatland) - sad... let's take a drive.. through the sprawl...
Tuesday, 6 November 2012
Boy Robot - "Live In Vanilla" (Rotten Cocktails)
Long spinned electronic scapes, not the slow atmospheric kind but faster, tingy-er.
RJD2 - "Weather People" (In Rare Form)
moody, with a distinct "Tubular Bells" feeling to it. (am I now pissing people of?)
Saturday, 3 November 2012
Urbs - "The Incident" (Toujours Le Meme Film)
instrumental, on station "Air", repetitive small loops of running-away tones
Arthur C. Clarke - The Colours of Infinity
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3gKOB6spCb8
(part 2)
Fun series about Mandelbrot and fractals.
First fractal by a Frenchman named Julia, in 1917. He never saw the Julia sets themselves.
(part 2)
Fun series about Mandelbrot and fractals.
First fractal by a Frenchman named Julia, in 1917. He never saw the Julia sets themselves.
Joanna Newson - "Svetlana" and other songs
Plays harp. Voice a bit like Björk, bit like Emiliana Torrini.
Ok song.
Supposedly her album "Easy" ("Ez" ?) is beautiful, produced by Jim O'Rourke and other famous guys... Oh wait, "Ys".
Ok song.
Supposedly her album "Easy" ("Ez" ?) is beautiful, produced by Jim O'Rourke and other famous guys... Oh wait, "Ys".
- "Monkey & Bear" - wait, I know this one! Came by on Pandora and confused the hell out of me.
Friday, 2 November 2012
Julee Cruise - "The Voice of Love"
Saw her on my 2listen list. This is the first album that she put out after Angelo Badalamenti discovered her.
Released about 3 years after Blue Velvet.
Very much as expected.
Released about 3 years after Blue Velvet.
Very much as expected.
- Kool Kat Walk - dark swingy. Nice.
- Questions in a World of Blue - very slow, definitely not good every day or night, but at times wonderful to drift off
Charlie Rose interviews David Foster Wallace
Intriguing. Makes you think about writing again, about more reading and endless writing.
Even though it costs so much time and energy.
Even though it costs so much time and energy.
Tritone - diabolus in musica
From Oliver Sacks' "Musicology"
The tritone - an augmented fourth (or, in jazz parlance, a flatted fifth)- is a difficult interval to sing and has often been regarded as having an ugly, uncanny, or even diabolical quality. Its use was forbidden in early ecclesiastical music, and early theorists called it diabolus in musica ("the devil in music"). But Tartini used it, for this very reason, in his Devil's Trill Sonata for violin.
Though the raw tritone sounds so harsh, it is easily filled out with another tritone to form a diminished seventh. And this, the Oxford Companion to Music notes, "has a luscious effect... The chord is indeed the most Protean in all harmony. In England the nickname has been given it of 'The Clapham Junction of Harmony' - from a railway station in London where so many lines join that once arrived there one can take a train for almost anywhere else."
The tritone - an augmented fourth (or, in jazz parlance, a flatted fifth)- is a difficult interval to sing and has often been regarded as having an ugly, uncanny, or even diabolical quality. Its use was forbidden in early ecclesiastical music, and early theorists called it diabolus in musica ("the devil in music"). But Tartini used it, for this very reason, in his Devil's Trill Sonata for violin.
Though the raw tritone sounds so harsh, it is easily filled out with another tritone to form a diminished seventh. And this, the Oxford Companion to Music notes, "has a luscious effect... The chord is indeed the most Protean in all harmony. In England the nickname has been given it of 'The Clapham Junction of Harmony' - from a railway station in London where so many lines join that once arrived there one can take a train for almost anywhere else."
Visualization of unusual words - Project Twin
Wonderful selection of strange words with visualization.
http://www.brainpickings.org/index.php/2012/07/02/project-twins-unusual-words/
http://www.brainpickings.org/index.php/2012/07/02/project-twins-unusual-words/
Classics
- Krang - "Kraaien"
- Thé Lau - "Rivier"
- Lange Frans & Baas B. - "Het Land Van"
- Tom Barman & Guy van Nueten - "Nothing Really Ends"
Thursday, 1 November 2012
Sir Thomas Urquhart - Wonderfully crazy words
http://sixdegreesofsirthomas.blogspot.co.uk/
It grew from a theory that every word in English is within six degrees of a word invented or used by Sir Thomas Urquhart, a logofascinated spirit if ever there was one.
love love love love love this.
It grew from a theory that every word in English is within six degrees of a word invented or used by Sir Thomas Urquhart, a logofascinated spirit if ever there was one.
love love love love love this.
Cut "Oz" scene - "Somewhere over the rainbow"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pAI40Md7Wfk
in which Judy Garland breaks down and cries.
chilling.
in which Judy Garland breaks down and cries.
chilling.
Wednesday, 31 October 2012
Kory Stamper - English is a little bit like a child
via: http://korystamper.wordpress.com/2012/10/24/no-logic-in-etymological-a-response-i-actually-sent/
Kory Stamper
English is a little bit like a child. We love and nurture it into being, and once it gains gross motor skills, it starts going exactly where we don’t want it to go: it heads right for the goddamned light sockets. We put it in nice clothes and tell it to make friends, and it comes home covered in mud, with its underwear on its head and someone else’s socks on its feet. We ask it to clean up or to take out the garbage, and instead it hollers at us that we don’t run its life, man. Then it stomps off to its room to listen to The Smiths in the dark.
Everything we’ve done to and for English is for its own good, we tell it (angrily, as it slouches in its chair and writes “irregardless” all over itself in ballpoint pen). This is to help you grow into a language people will respect! Are you listening to me? Why aren’t you listening to me??
Like well-adjusted children eventually do, English lives its own life. We can tell it to clean itself up and act more like one of the Classical languages (I bet Latin doesn’t sneak German in through its bedroom window, does it?). We can threaten, cajole, wheedle, beg, yell, throw tantrums, and start learning French instead. But no matter what we do, we will never really be the boss of it. And that, frankly, is what makes it so beautiful.
Kory Stamper
English is a little bit like a child. We love and nurture it into being, and once it gains gross motor skills, it starts going exactly where we don’t want it to go: it heads right for the goddamned light sockets. We put it in nice clothes and tell it to make friends, and it comes home covered in mud, with its underwear on its head and someone else’s socks on its feet. We ask it to clean up or to take out the garbage, and instead it hollers at us that we don’t run its life, man. Then it stomps off to its room to listen to The Smiths in the dark.
Everything we’ve done to and for English is for its own good, we tell it (angrily, as it slouches in its chair and writes “irregardless” all over itself in ballpoint pen). This is to help you grow into a language people will respect! Are you listening to me? Why aren’t you listening to me??
Like well-adjusted children eventually do, English lives its own life. We can tell it to clean itself up and act more like one of the Classical languages (I bet Latin doesn’t sneak German in through its bedroom window, does it?). We can threaten, cajole, wheedle, beg, yell, throw tantrums, and start learning French instead. But no matter what we do, we will never really be the boss of it. And that, frankly, is what makes it so beautiful.
trying to define English as a pure language
via http://itre.cis.upenn.edu/~myl/languagelog/archives/002579.html
source: https://groups.google.com/forum/?fromgroups=#!msg/rec.arts.sf-lovers/5tQFnNbvN80/1pfKcGbEYckJ
James Nicoll
The problem with defending the purity of the English language is that English is about as pure as a cribhouse whore. We don't just borrow words; on occasion, English has pursued other languages down alleyways to beat them unconscious and rifle their pockets for new vocabulary.
source: https://groups.google.com/forum/?fromgroups=#!msg/rec.arts.sf-lovers/5tQFnNbvN80/1pfKcGbEYckJ
James Nicoll
The problem with defending the purity of the English language is that English is about as pure as a cribhouse whore. We don't just borrow words; on occasion, English has pursued other languages down alleyways to beat them unconscious and rifle their pockets for new vocabulary.
Sylvia Plath - "Birthday Present"
A Birthday Present
What is this, behind this veil, is it ugly, is it beautiful?
It is shimmering, has it breasts, has it edges?
I am sure it is unique, I am sure it is what I want.
When I am quiet at my cooking I feel it looking, I feel it thinking
‘Is this the one I am too appear for,
Is this the elect one, the one with black eye-pits and a scar?
Measuring the flour, cutting off the surplus,
Adhering to rules, to rules, to rules.
Is this the one for the annunciation?
My god, what a laugh!’
But it shimmers, it does not stop, and I think it wants me.
I would not mind if it were bones, or a pearl button.
I do not want much of a present, anyway, this year.
After all I am alive only by accident.
I would have killed myself gladly that time any possible way.
Now there are these veils, shimmering like curtains,
The diaphanous satins of a January window
White as babies’ bedding and glittering with dead breath. O ivory!
It must be a tusk there, a ghost column.
Can you not see I do not mind what it is.
Can you not give it to me?
Do not be ashamed–I do not mind if it is small.
Do not be mean, I am ready for enormity.
Let us sit down to it, one on either side, admiring the gleam,
The glaze, the mirrory variety of it.
Let us eat our last supper at it, like a hospital plate.
I know why you will not give it to me,
You are terrified
The world will go up in a shriek, and your head with it,
Bossed, brazen, an antique shield,
A marvel to your great-grandchildren.
Do not be afraid, it is not so.
I will only take it and go aside quietly.
You will not even hear me opening it, no paper crackle,
No falling ribbons, no scream at the end.
I do not think you credit me with this discretion.
If you only knew how the veils were killing my days.
To you they are only transparencies, clear air.
But my god, the clouds are like cotton.
Armies of them. They are carbon monoxide.
Sweetly, sweetly I breathe in,
Filling my veins with invisibles, with the million
Probable motes that tick the years off my life.
You are silver-suited for the occasion. O adding machine—–
Is it impossible for you to let something go and have it go whole?
Must you stamp each piece purple,
Must you kill what you can?
There is one thing I want today, and only you can give it to me.
It stands at my window, big as the sky.
It breathes from my sheets, the cold dead center
Where split lives congeal and stiffen to history.
Let it not come by the mail, finger by finger.
Let it not come by word of mouth, I should be sixty
By the time the whole of it was delivered, and to numb to use it.
Only let down the veil, the veil, the veil.
If it were death
I would admire the deep gravity of it, its timeless eyes.
I would know you were serious.
There would be a nobility then, there would be a birthday.
And the knife not carve, but enter
Pure and clean as the cry of a baby,
And the universe slide from my side.
(here you might find an audio recording: http://www.brainpickings.org/index.php/2012/10/29/sylvia-plath-reads-a-birthday-present-1962 )
What is this, behind this veil, is it ugly, is it beautiful?
It is shimmering, has it breasts, has it edges?
I am sure it is unique, I am sure it is what I want.
When I am quiet at my cooking I feel it looking, I feel it thinking
‘Is this the one I am too appear for,
Is this the elect one, the one with black eye-pits and a scar?
Measuring the flour, cutting off the surplus,
Adhering to rules, to rules, to rules.
Is this the one for the annunciation?
My god, what a laugh!’
But it shimmers, it does not stop, and I think it wants me.
I would not mind if it were bones, or a pearl button.
I do not want much of a present, anyway, this year.
After all I am alive only by accident.
I would have killed myself gladly that time any possible way.
Now there are these veils, shimmering like curtains,
The diaphanous satins of a January window
White as babies’ bedding and glittering with dead breath. O ivory!
It must be a tusk there, a ghost column.
Can you not see I do not mind what it is.
Can you not give it to me?
Do not be ashamed–I do not mind if it is small.
Do not be mean, I am ready for enormity.
Let us sit down to it, one on either side, admiring the gleam,
The glaze, the mirrory variety of it.
Let us eat our last supper at it, like a hospital plate.
I know why you will not give it to me,
You are terrified
The world will go up in a shriek, and your head with it,
Bossed, brazen, an antique shield,
A marvel to your great-grandchildren.
Do not be afraid, it is not so.
I will only take it and go aside quietly.
You will not even hear me opening it, no paper crackle,
No falling ribbons, no scream at the end.
I do not think you credit me with this discretion.
If you only knew how the veils were killing my days.
To you they are only transparencies, clear air.
But my god, the clouds are like cotton.
Armies of them. They are carbon monoxide.
Sweetly, sweetly I breathe in,
Filling my veins with invisibles, with the million
Probable motes that tick the years off my life.
You are silver-suited for the occasion. O adding machine—–
Is it impossible for you to let something go and have it go whole?
Must you stamp each piece purple,
Must you kill what you can?
There is one thing I want today, and only you can give it to me.
It stands at my window, big as the sky.
It breathes from my sheets, the cold dead center
Where split lives congeal and stiffen to history.
Let it not come by the mail, finger by finger.
Let it not come by word of mouth, I should be sixty
By the time the whole of it was delivered, and to numb to use it.
Only let down the veil, the veil, the veil.
If it were death
I would admire the deep gravity of it, its timeless eyes.
I would know you were serious.
There would be a nobility then, there would be a birthday.
And the knife not carve, but enter
Pure and clean as the cry of a baby,
And the universe slide from my side.
(here you might find an audio recording: http://www.brainpickings.org/index.php/2012/10/29/sylvia-plath-reads-a-birthday-present-1962 )
Tin Cup Prophette - "Going Numb" (Liar and the Thief)
Catchy, tinkle-tonk, somehow singer-song writer, yet not. It's on Pandora's DAAU channel.
Monday, 29 October 2012
Flaming Lips - "Funeral In My Head" (Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots)
But if I go mad
No one will know it.
[...]
But if I go mad
No one will know it.
[...]
But if I go mad
No one will know it.
Because I don't want you to be sad for me
Listening to the album in preparation of the musical at La Jolla Playhouse. It's gripping.
No one will know it.
[...]
But if I go mad
No one will know it.
[...]
But if I go mad
No one will know it.
Because I don't want you to be sad for me
Listening to the album in preparation of the musical at La Jolla Playhouse. It's gripping.
Sunday, 28 October 2012
Anvil! The story of Anvil
Nice documentary on Anvil, the metal group who never made it, but is still cited by the big ones (Mötorhead, Metallica, Slash) as having an incredible impact.
Particularly "Lips" is just this amazingly friendly guy.
Particularly "Lips" is just this amazingly friendly guy.
Searching for Sugar Man
Wonderful documentary on how to find "Sixto Rodriguez", a singer-songwriter from Detroit who got no notice in the USA but became incredibly big in South Africa.
Thursday, 25 October 2012
Mixel Pixel - misc
Selected some songs because grooveshark suggested they were like the Flaming Lips.
Didn't really care for it.
Didn't really care for it.
Wednesday, 24 October 2012
Bat For Lashes - "The Haunted Man"
New album, I assume, since it's on NPR's "First Listen".
Bit Kate Bush-y, in singing as well as melody. Nice enough.
Bit Kate Bush-y, in singing as well as melody. Nice enough.
the Flaming Lips - "Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots"
I am sure I have blogged this album before (it seems I haven't, or I forgot to tag it properly) but it's one of those albums I never "got" when it came out. No, that's wrong. Not-getting implies listening to it, getting it on your radar, or whatever.
I was simply most oblivious to it.
Of course, I've heard of the Flaming Lips, and the title sticks, but did I ever consciently listen to it? No.
Wonderful to discover it now. Time is relative.
I was simply most oblivious to it.
Of course, I've heard of the Flaming Lips, and the title sticks, but did I ever consciently listen to it? No.
Wonderful to discover it now. Time is relative.
Quine, or: recursing zip
http://research.swtch.com/zip
where zip files are created out of themselves.
where zip files are created out of themselves.
Charles Bukowski - "So you want to be a writer"
so you want to be a writer
if it doesn’t come bursting out of you
in spite of everything,
don’t do it.
unless it comes unasked out of your
heart and your mind and your mouth
and your gut,
don’t do it.
if you have to sit for hours
staring at your computer screen
or hunched over your
typewriter
searching for words,
don’t do it.
if you’re doing it for money or
fame,
don’t do it.
if you’re doing it because you want
women in your bed,
don’t do it.
if you have to sit there and
rewrite it again and again,
don’t do it.
if it’s hard work just thinking about doing it,
don’t do it.
if you’re trying to write like somebody
else,
forget about it.
if you have to wait for it to roar out of
you,
then wait patiently.
if it never does roar out of you,
do something else.
if you first have to read it to your wife
or your girlfriend or your boyfriend
or your parents or to anybody at all,
you’re not ready.
don’t be like so many writers,
don’t be like so many thousands of
people who call themselves writers,
don’t be dull and boring and
pretentious, don’t be consumed with self-
love.
the libraries of the world have
yawned themselves to
sleep
over your kind.
don’t add to that.
don’t do it.
unless it comes out of
your soul like a rocket,
unless being still would
drive you to madness or
suicide or murder,
don’t do it.
unless the sun inside you is
burning your gut,
don’t do it.
when it is truly time,
and if you have been chosen,
it will do it by
itself and it will keep on doing it
until you die or it dies in you.
there is no other way.
and there never was.
if it doesn’t come bursting out of you
in spite of everything,
don’t do it.
unless it comes unasked out of your
heart and your mind and your mouth
and your gut,
don’t do it.
if you have to sit for hours
staring at your computer screen
or hunched over your
typewriter
searching for words,
don’t do it.
if you’re doing it for money or
fame,
don’t do it.
if you’re doing it because you want
women in your bed,
don’t do it.
if you have to sit there and
rewrite it again and again,
don’t do it.
if it’s hard work just thinking about doing it,
don’t do it.
if you’re trying to write like somebody
else,
forget about it.
if you have to wait for it to roar out of
you,
then wait patiently.
if it never does roar out of you,
do something else.
if you first have to read it to your wife
or your girlfriend or your boyfriend
or your parents or to anybody at all,
you’re not ready.
don’t be like so many writers,
don’t be like so many thousands of
people who call themselves writers,
don’t be dull and boring and
pretentious, don’t be consumed with self-
love.
the libraries of the world have
yawned themselves to
sleep
over your kind.
don’t add to that.
don’t do it.
unless it comes out of
your soul like a rocket,
unless being still would
drive you to madness or
suicide or murder,
don’t do it.
unless the sun inside you is
burning your gut,
don’t do it.
when it is truly time,
and if you have been chosen,
it will do it by
itself and it will keep on doing it
until you die or it dies in you.
there is no other way.
and there never was.
Monday, 22 October 2012
Amazon review Tuscan Milk by "Edgar"
I have no idea how to file this, but an amazing Amazon review on Tuscan Whole Milk
Customer Reviews
Tuscan Whole Milk, 1 Gallon, 128 fl oz
Once upon a mid-day sunny, while I savored Nuts 'N Honey,
With my Tuscan Whole Milk, 1 gal, 128 fl. oz., I swore
As I went on with my lapping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at the icebox door.
'Bad condensor, that,' I muttered, 'vibrating the icebox door -
Only this, and nothing more.'
Not to sound like a complainer, but, in an inept half-gainer,
I provoked my bowl to tip and spill its contents on the floor.
Stupefied, I came to muddle over that increasing puddle,
Burgeoning deluge of that which I at present do adore -
Snowy Tuscan wholesomeness exclusively produced offshore -
Purg'ed here for evermore.
And the pool so white and silky, filled me with a sense of milky
Ardor of the type fantastic of a loss not known before,
So that now, to still the throbbing of my heart, while gently sobbing,
I retreated, heading straightway for the tempting icebox door -
Heedless of that pitter-patter tapping at the icebox door -
I resolved to have some more.
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
'This,' said I, 'requires an extra dram of milk, my favorite pour.'
To the icebox I aspired, motivated to admire
How its avocado pigment complemented my decor.
Then I grasped its woodgrain handle - here I opened wide the door; -
Darkness there, and nothing more.
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams of Tuscans I had known before
But the light inside was broken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only words there spoken were my whispered words, 'No more!'
Coke and beer, some ketchup I set eyes on, and an apple core -
Merely this and nothing more.
Back toward the table turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
'Surely,' said I, 'surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
'Tis the wind and nothing more!'
From the window came a stirring, then, with an incessant purring,
Inside stepped a kitten; mannerlessly did she me ignore.
Not the least obeisance made she; not a minute stopped or stayed she;
But, with mien of lord or lady, withdrew to my dining floor -
Pounced upon the pool of Tuscan spreading o'er my dining floor -
Licked, and lapped, and supped some more.
Then this tiny cat beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grand enthusiasm of the countenance she wore,
Toward the mess she showed no pity, 'til I said, 'Well, hello, kitty!'
Sought she me with pretty eyes that seemed to open some rapport.
So I pleaded, 'Tell me, tell me what it is that you implore!'
Quoth the kitten, 'Get some more.'
Customer Reviews
Tuscan Whole Milk, 1 Gallon, 128 fl oz
Once upon a mid-day sunny, while I savored Nuts 'N Honey,
With my Tuscan Whole Milk, 1 gal, 128 fl. oz., I swore
As I went on with my lapping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at the icebox door.
'Bad condensor, that,' I muttered, 'vibrating the icebox door -
Only this, and nothing more.'
Not to sound like a complainer, but, in an inept half-gainer,
I provoked my bowl to tip and spill its contents on the floor.
Stupefied, I came to muddle over that increasing puddle,
Burgeoning deluge of that which I at present do adore -
Snowy Tuscan wholesomeness exclusively produced offshore -
Purg'ed here for evermore.
And the pool so white and silky, filled me with a sense of milky
Ardor of the type fantastic of a loss not known before,
So that now, to still the throbbing of my heart, while gently sobbing,
I retreated, heading straightway for the tempting icebox door -
Heedless of that pitter-patter tapping at the icebox door -
I resolved to have some more.
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
'This,' said I, 'requires an extra dram of milk, my favorite pour.'
To the icebox I aspired, motivated to admire
How its avocado pigment complemented my decor.
Then I grasped its woodgrain handle - here I opened wide the door; -
Darkness there, and nothing more.
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams of Tuscans I had known before
But the light inside was broken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only words there spoken were my whispered words, 'No more!'
Coke and beer, some ketchup I set eyes on, and an apple core -
Merely this and nothing more.
Back toward the table turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
'Surely,' said I, 'surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
'Tis the wind and nothing more!'
From the window came a stirring, then, with an incessant purring,
Inside stepped a kitten; mannerlessly did she me ignore.
Not the least obeisance made she; not a minute stopped or stayed she;
But, with mien of lord or lady, withdrew to my dining floor -
Pounced upon the pool of Tuscan spreading o'er my dining floor -
Licked, and lapped, and supped some more.
Then this tiny cat beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grand enthusiasm of the countenance she wore,
Toward the mess she showed no pity, 'til I said, 'Well, hello, kitty!'
Sought she me with pretty eyes that seemed to open some rapport.
So I pleaded, 'Tell me, tell me what it is that you implore!'
Quoth the kitten, 'Get some more.'
Thursday, 18 October 2012
Ween - "Spiral Miningitis (Got Me Down)" (Chocolate and Cheese)
Ween weirdness with scary girl's voice.
Oh thank God for weirdness.
Oh thank God for weirdness.
Bucketlist
Many people said I *had* to watch this.
It's okay. It's funny, and nice, and does everything you expect from such a film and such actors.
But give me "As Good As It Gets" any time.
It's okay. It's funny, and nice, and does everything you expect from such a film and such actors.
But give me "As Good As It Gets" any time.
Cabin In The Woods
Loved it. In hindsight, since I knew about the scifi/mystical side, I wasn't too surprised, and it might have worked even slightly better without knowing anything about it. Still, quite enjoyable.
Good pace!
Good pace!
Monday, 15 October 2012
Morphine - "Whisper" (Best Of..)
Though I didn't realize it straight away, a typical Morphine sound. Low and dark, the belly allies of the music city.
Sunday, 14 October 2012
Sinéad O'Connor - "Queen of Denmark"
Yup, cover. From her 2012 album "How About I Be Me (And You Be You)?"
Pretty good.
Pretty good.
John Cheever - "The Swimmer"
Incredible story of a man "swimming the county", by hopping from swimming pool to swimming pool.
A story that makes you close the book afterwards and just think about it. A story that leaves you with more questions than answers, a beautiful inbalance that you mentally try to fix by adding explanations in your mind, but the scale is too sensitive and you never get it right.
A story that makes you close the book afterwards and just think about it. A story that leaves you with more questions than answers, a beautiful inbalance that you mentally try to fix by adding explanations in your mind, but the scale is too sensitive and you never get it right.
T.C. Boyle - misc short stories
- "Balto" - a daughter must appear in court to testify whether she or her father was driving. Wonderful soft suspense.
Shirley Manson misc
- "In the snow" - a demo from 2009 and pretty beautiful. slow.
- "Lighten Up" - another demo, doesn't do that much for me.
- "Pretty Horses" - contemplative, darker, good. Organ!
- "Samson & Delilah" - featured in the Sarah Connor Chronicles, not bad
- She was in the band "Angelfish" before joining Garbage
- reads "Forgiveness and Exile, Pt.3" on Chris Connelly's album "Forgiveness and Exile (2008)"
- vocals on Serj Tankian on "The Hunger" (Amnesty International Version) from his rock musical "Prometheus Bound". Pretty cool.
Saturday, 13 October 2012
Charlie Rose interviewing Garbage
On youtube, wonderful interview of Charlie Rose interviewing Garbage.
Thursday, 11 October 2012
Wednesday, 10 October 2012
Muse - "2nd Law"
- "Madness" : ugh. damn. horrible. hated to admit I realized who it was.
- "The 2nd Law: Isolated System" : instrumental, slow buildup
- "The 2nd Law: Unsustainable" : eh, Skrillex?? With orchestra?! Okay.
- "Save Me" : instrumental. So-so. Bit boring.
- "Big Freeze" : same same.
- "Animals" : same same
- "Follow Me" : Skrillex-y again
- "Panic Station" : instrumental rock
- "Supremacy" : James Bond influence
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