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Monday, February 28, 2011

Who Would Think That What Was Needed(?)

A brilliant piece by David Rhodes was featured as a bonus track (track four, to be exact) to Goh Nakamura's Ulysses (http://gohnakamura.com/ulysses/), which I highly recommend hearing. 
This particular song reminded me of the work of Philip Glass for Mishima, only now I have a darker and more disturbing picture before me.

Download it via Megauload Here

Enjoy.

Dark as a Dungeon




Come listen you fellows so young and so fine
And seek not your fortune in the dark dreary mine
It will form as a habit and seep in your soul
'Till the stream of your blood is as black as the coal
It's dark as a dungeon and damp as the dew
Where the danger is double and the pleasures are few
Where the rain never falls and the sun never shines
It's dark as a dungeon way down in the mines
 
It's a-many a man I've seen in my day
Who lived just to labor his whole life away
Like a fiend with his dope and a drunkard his wine
A man will have lust for the lure of the mine
 
The midnight the morning or the middle of the day
It's the same to the miner who labors away
Where the demons of death often come by surprise
One fall of the slate and your buried alive
 
I hope when I'm gone and the ages shall roll
My body will blacken and turn into coal
Then I'll look from the door of my heavenly home
And pity the miner a-digging my bones
 
 
Merle Travis 


Car Song







Brrrm brm brm brm brm brm brm, brrrm b' brrrm,
Brrrm brm brm brm brm brm brrrm b' brrrm,
Brrrm brm brm brm brm brm brrrm b' brrrm.
Brrrm brm brm brm brm brm brrrm.

Take me riding in the car, car;
Take me riding in the car, car;
Take you riding in the car, car;
I'll take you riding in my car.

Click clack, open up the door, girls;
Click clack, open up the door, boys;
Front door, back door, clickety clack,
Take you riding in my car.

Climb, climb, rattle on the front seat;
Spree I spraddle on the backseat;
Turn my key, step on my starter,
Take you riding in my car.

Engine it goes boom, boom;
Engine it goes boom, boom;
Front seat, backseat, boys and girls,
Take you riding in my car.

Trees and the houses walk along;
Trees and the houses walk along;
Truck and a car and a garbage can,
Take you riding in my car.

Ships and the little boars chug along;
Ships and the little boats chug along;
Boom buhbuh boom boom boom buh boom,
Take you riding in my car.

I'm a gonna send you home again;
I'm a gonna send you home again;
Boom, boom, buhbuh boom, rolling home,
Take you riding in my car.

I'm a gonna let You blow the horn;
I'm a gonna let you blow the horn;
A oorah, a oorah, a oogah, oogah,
I'll take you riding in my car.


Woody Guthrie

written for his young daughter and her friends 

Way Over Yonder in the Minor Key





I lived in a place called Okfuskee
And I had a little girl in a holler tree
I said, little girl, it's plain to see
Ain't nobody that can sing like me
Ain't nobody that can sing like me

She said it's hard for me to see
How one little boy got so ugly
Yes my little girly that might be
But there ain't nobody that can sing like me
Ain't nobody that can sing like me

Way over yonder in the minor key
Way over yonder in the minor key
There ain't nobody that can sing like me

We walked down by the Buckeye Creek
To see the frog eat the goggle-eye bee
To hear the west wind whistle to the east
There ain't nobody that can sing like me
Ain't nobody that can sing like me

Oh my little girly will you let me see
Way over yonder where the wind blows free
Nobody can see in our holler tree

And there ain't nobody that can sing like me
Ain't nobody that can sing like me

Way over yonder in the minor key
Way over yonder in the minor key
Ain't nobody that can sing like me

Her mama cut a switch from a cherry tree
And laid it on the she and me,
It stung lots worse than a hive of bees
But there ain't nobody that can sing like me
Ain't nobody that can sing like me

Now I have walked a long long ways
And I still look back to my Tanglewood days
I've led lots of girls since then to stray
Saying ain't nobody that can sing like me
Ain't nobody that can sing like me

Way over yonder in the minor key
Way over yonder in the minor key
Ain't nobody that can sing like me

Ain't nobody that can sing like me 


Woody Guthrie

this was written about his mother


A Magnificent Space Odyssey Experience




Released 30 October 1971 US, 5 November 1971 UK from the album Meddle.
Similar to the Dark Side of the Rainbow effect, some listeners suggested that "Echoes" synchronizes with Stanley Kubrick's 1968 film 2001: A Space Odyssey when played concurrently with the final segment (titled "Jupiter and Beyond the Infinite").

"Echoes" was released three years after the film's production and is 23 minutes and 31 seconds in length, quite similar to the "Infinite" segment. Sound effects in the middle section of the song suggest to some listeners the feeling of travelling through, or flying over, an alien world. The drone vocalizations heard in the final scenes of 2001 seem to match with the discordant bass vibrations in the middle of "Echoes" as well as the choral glissandos of its finale. Some argue that there are moments when the song and film soundtrack are nearly indistinguishable. Another notable link occurs during a change in scene at precisely the moment when guitar and keyboards crescendo as the lyrics re-enter for the final verse. The early lyrics contain references to planets, which seems entirely suitable for the film's depiction of Jupiter and its moons. Adrian Maben re-created this marriage of music and image in his director's cut of Live at Pompeii using CGI.

The members of the band always denied that the synchronization was intentional. Furthermore, the technology to play back film in a recording studio circa 1971 would have been expensive and difficult for the band to acquire. Roger Waters is sometimes quoted as saying that the band's failure to contribute music to 2001's official score was his "greatest regret".



Overhead the albatross hangs motionless upon the air
And deep beneath the rolling waves
In labyrinths of coral caves
The echo of a distant tide
Comes willowing across the sand
And everything is green and submarine.

And no-one called us to the land
And no-one knows the wheres or whys
But something stirs and something tries
And starts to climb towards the light

Strangers passing in the street
By chance two separate glances meet
And I am you and what I see is me
And do I take you by the hand
And lead you through the land
And help me understand the best I can

And no-one calls us to move on
And no-one forces down our eyes
And no-one speaks and no-one tries
And no-one flies around the sun

Cloudless everyday you fall upon my waking eyes
inviting and inciting me to rise
And through the window in the wall
Come streaming in on sunlight wings
A million bright ambassadors of morning

And no-one sings me lullabies
And no-one makes me close my eyes
And so I throw the windows wide
And call to you across the sky

Ilko Birov - Restless Dreams

Subject to change




Restless Dreams

Here you are
Looking very sharp
Your mind's on the quay and your
Head's at the dock

Like a single-handed sailor
I made my way through
And the ocean of waves couldn't
Keep me from you
It couldn't keep me from you

But I never thought this could happen
Between me and you
You know you, you took the gold
From my heart, and now all I've got
is a stone-cold rock

And there's just blue
There's just blue

You took the lot, and that's how you left me,
Blue

I'll count from 1 to 5
And when I open my eyes
Things will change, and no more
Strange people getting in the way
No more of you in my dreams
Come sanity
And there's no more of me
No more of that

At the bridge with the Lions
You remember?
That November,
The house fell down (x2)

Now here you are
Lookin' very sharp
His mind' on the quay
And your head's at the dock

Like a single-handed sailor
He made his way through
And the ocean of greed couldn't
Keep him from you
Keep him from you

Sunday, February 27, 2011

Five (Dire Straits) Songs



1. Single Handed Sailor

track eight on the Communique album (1979)




Two in the morning, dry-dock town
The rivers rolls away in the night
Little gypsy moth she's all tied down
She quiver in the wind and the light

Yeah and a sailing ship just held down in chains
From the lazy days of sail
She's just lying there in silent pain
He lean on the turist rail

A mother and her baby and the college of war
In the concrete graves
You never wanna fight against the river law
Nobody rules the waves
Yeah and on a night when the lazy wind is a-wailing
Around the Cutty Sark
Single handed sailor goes sailing
Sailing away in the dark

He's upon the bridge on the self same night
The mariner of dry dock land
Two in the morning, but there is one green light
And a man on the barge of sand
She's gonna slip away below him
Away from the things he's done
But he just shouts "Hey man, what do you call this thing?"
He could have said "Pride of London"
On a night when the lazy wind is a-wailing
Around the Cutty Sark
Yeah the single handed sailor goes sailing
Sailing away in the dark


2. Lions

the ninth and final track on their self-titled debut album (1978)




Red sun go down way over dirty town
Starling are sweeping around crazy shoals
A girl is there high heeling across the square
Wind blows around in her hair and the flags upon the poles
Waiting in the crowd to cross at the light
She looks around to find a face she can like.

Church bell clinging on trying to get a crowd for Evensong
Nobody cares to depend upon the chime it plays
They're all in the station praying for trains
Cogregations late again
It's getting darker all the time these flagpole days
Drunk old soldier he gives her a fright
He's crazy lion howling for a fight.

Strap hanging gunshot sound
Doors slamming on the overground
Starlings are tough but the lions are made of stone
Her evening paper is horror torn
But there's hope later for Capricorns
Her lucky stars give her just enough to get home
Then she's reading about a swing to the right
But she's thinking about a stranger in the night
I'm thinking about the lions tonight
What happened to the lions.


3. Lady Writer

song five on Communique (1979)




Lady writer on the TV
Talk about the Virgin Mary
Reminded me of you
Expectation left to come up to yeah

Lady writer on the TV
She had another quality
The way you used to look
And I know you never read a book

Just the way that her hair fell down around her face
And I recall my fall from grace
Another time, another place

Lady writer on the TV
She had all the brains and the beauty
The pictures does not fit
You'd talk to me when you felt like it

Just the way that her hair fell down around her face
And I recall my fall from grace
Another time another place

Yes and your rich old man,
You know he'd a call her a dead ringer
You got the same command
Plus your mother was a Jazz singer

Just the way that her hair fell down around her face
And I recall my fall from grace
Another time another place

Lady writer on the TV
She knew all about a history
You couldn't hardly write your name
I think I want it just the same as the ...

Lady writer on the TV
Talking about the Virgin Mary
You know I'm talking about you and me
And the lady writer on the TV
Talking about the Virgin Mary
Yeah you know I'm talking about you and me
And the lady writer on the TV


4. Expresso Love

The fourth song on Making Movies (1980)





she gets the sun in the daytime
perfume in the dusk
and she comes out in the night time
with the honeysuckle musk
because she smells just like a rose
and she tastes just like a peach
she got me walking where the wildlife goes
I'd do anything to reach her

and she was made in heaven
heaven's in the world
is this just expresso love
you know i'm crazy for the girl

she call me just to talk
she's my lover, she's a friend of mine
she says hey mister you wanna take a walk
in the wild west end sometime
and i get trouble with my breathing
she says boys don't know anything
but i know what i want
i want everything

well i feel so good cos i feel so good
and i feel so good cos it feels so right
i was made to go with my girl
like a saxophone was made to go with the night

and she can raise one eyebrow
put her hand on my hip
and i close one eye now
sweat on her lip
and i surrender to the fever
she love me so tender i got to believe her
love? expresso love's alright

i don't want no sugar in it
thank you very much
all wired up on it all fired up on it
expresso touch
hey maestro expresso
it's just another one just like the other one
hey maestro expresso
is this another one just like the other one


5. The Bug

track five in 1991's On Every Street 




well it's a strange old game - you learn it slow
one step forward and it's back to go
you're standing on the throttle
you're standing on the breaks
in the groove 'til you make a mistake

sometimes you're the windshield
sometimes you're the bug
sometimes it all comes together baby
sometimes you're a fool in love
sometimes you're the louisville slugger
sometimes you're the ball
sometimes it all comes together baby
sometimes you're going to lose it all

you gotta know happy - you gotta know glad
because you're gonna know lonely
and you're gonna know bad
when you're rippin' and a ridin'
and you're coming on strong
you start slippin' and slidin'
and it all goes wrong because

sometimes you're the windshield
sometimes you're the bug
sometimes it all comes together baby
sometimes you're a fool in love
sometimes you're the louisville slugger baby
sometimes you're the ball
sometimes it all comes together baby
sometimes you're going to lose it all

one day you got the glory
one day you got none
one day you're a diamond
and then you're a stone
everything can change
in the blink of an eye
so let the good times roll
before we say goodbye, because

sometimes you're the windshield
sometimes you're the bug
sometimes it all comes together baby
sometimes you're a fool in love
sometimes you're the louisville slugger baby
sometimes you're the ball
sometimes it all comes together baby
sometimes you're going to lose it all





Black Swine







Via Sinfest: The Webcomic To End all Webcomics

Saturday, February 26, 2011

You Angel You


Surely one of the best things in the history of modern music was Bob Dylan's teaming up with The Band.
I can't but not be reminded of Canada often times when I'm listening to a Band record. I'll be sure to do a blog post soon on some of my favourite songs from this fine company. But now, I musn't deviate from the point, and that is You Angel You. And here it is:

You Angel You

You angel you
You got me under your wing
The way you walk and the way you talk
I feel I could almost sing
You angel you
You’re as fine as anything’s fine
The way you walk and the way you talk
It sure plays on my mind
You know I can’t sleep at night for trying
Never did feel this way before
I get up at night and walk the floor
If this is love then gimme more
And more and more and more and more
You angel you
You’re as fine as can be
The way you smile like a sweet baby child
It just falls all over me
You know I can’t sleep at night for trying
Never did feel this way before
Never did get up and walk the floor
If this is love then gimme more
And more and more and more
You angel you
You got me under your wing
The way you walk and the way you talk
It says everything


This was written by Bob Dylan and recorded in November of 1973 (released on January 17 1974) with The Band as track 9 on the Planet Waves album. 
Dylan later dismissed the song as having "dummy lyrics", but nevertheless, it is one of my favourite Bob Dylan & The Band tunes.




The album consisting of 'Cast-iron songs & torch ballads', originally to be called "Ceremonies Of The Horsemen

Have a listen to You Angel You From here, taken from Biograph CD 2

And on the second  Biograph CD, right after You Angel You, we have the Million Dollar Bash, taken from 1975's Basement Tapes by Bob Dylan and The Band And what a treat that is, download it from Megaupload, here



Million Dollar Bash

Well, that big dumb blonde
With her wheel in the gorge
And Turtle, that friend of theirs
With his checks all forged
And his cheeks in a chunk
With his cheese in the cash
They’re all gonna be there
At that million dollar bash
Ooh, baby, ooh-ee
Ooh, baby, ooh-ee
It’s that million dollar bash
Ev’rybody from right now
To over there and back
The louder they come
The harder they crack
Come now, sweet cream
Don’t forget to flash
We’re all gonna meet
At that million dollar bash
Ooh, baby, ooh-ee
Ooh, baby, ooh-ee
It’s that million dollar bash
Well, I took my counselor
Out to the barn
Silly Nelly was there
She told him a yarn
Then along came Jones
Emptied the trash
Ev’rybody went down
To that million dollar bash
Ooh, baby, ooh-ee
Ooh, baby, ooh-ee
It’s that million dollar bash
Well, I’m hittin’ it too hard
My stones won’t take
I get up in the mornin’
But it’s too early to wake
First it’s hello, goodbye
Then push and then crash
But we’re all gonna make it
At that million dollar bash
Ooh, baby, ooh-ee
Ooh, baby, ooh-ee
It’s that million dollar bash
Well, I looked at my watch
I looked at my wrist
Punched myself in the face
With my fist
I took my potatoes
Down to be mashed
Then I made it over
To that million dollar bash
Ooh, baby, ooh-ee
Ooh, baby, ooh-ee
It’s that million dollar bash





Enjoy!

Apologies to the Queen Mary (Wolf Parade)












Wolf Parade is an indie rock band formed in 2003 from Montreal, Quebec, Canada. The band is currently on an indefinite hiatus as of November 29, 2010.
They have released three albums and one EP on the Sub Pop label (the other two EPs are also named Wolf Parade, and are self-released), and their debut, Apologies to the Queen Mary, saw the light of day in September (25, to be exact) of 2005.
Apparently the band was on the RMS Queen Mary (II) and decided to destroy a ballroom door and act stupid, thus getting thrown off the liner. Out of politeness, I suppose, they put their sincerest thoughts where every true indie rock band does, and that is on the:

a) album title
b) album cover
c) song titles

And here are the songs on the album:


  1. "You Are a Runner and I Am My Father's Son" (Krug) – 2:54
  2. "Modern World" (Boeckner) – 2:52
  3. "Grounds for Divorce" (Krug) – 3:25
  4. "We Built Another World" (Boeckner) – 3:15
  5. "Fancy Claps" (Krug) – 2:51
  6. "Same Ghost Every Night" (Boeckner) – 5:44
  7. "Shine a Light" (Boeckner) – 3:47
  8. "Dear Sons and Daughters of Hungry Ghosts" (Krug) – 3:39
  9. "I'll Believe in Anything" (Krug) – 4:36
  10. "It's a Curse" (Boeckner) – 3:12
  11. "Dinner Bells" (Krug) – 7:34
  12. "This Heart's on Fire" (Boeckner) – 3:59

Wolf Parade is:

  • Dan Boeckner – vocals, guitar
  • Spencer Krug – vocals, keyboards
  • Arlen Thompson – drums
  • Dante DeCaro – guitar, bass, percussion, keyboards



Everything [in the album] has a very natural sense of dynamics to it. Each song is something of note. I love the moderate use of fuzzy synth sounds, as well as the toy keyboard, and the back vocals, which I would call queer. There is a definite David Bowie feel on some of the songs. I was prejudiced towards everything 'Indie' before hearing Wolf Parade. While I still don't like pretentious singing, I am a firm advocate of creativity, and that specific type of voice-twisting nestles itself perfectly in the band's twangy music.
The songwriting speaks to me, and their lyrics give me a strange sensation of hope. The resounding "I'll believe in anything and you'll believe in anything... If I could take the fire out from the water, I'd take you where nobody knows you. And nobody gives a damn. Nobody knows you, and nobody gives a damn" in I'll Believe In Anything, as well as the subtle defibrillator sounds reminded me of Elliott Smith. And it was curious to find out that Wolf Parade recorded this [album] in Portland, Oregon (apart from Montreal, of course), where Steven lived and recorded.





It's A Curse has got to be the most infectious song on the record. This was also the first Wolf Parade piece I heard. A couple of friends came over one time to get Ubuntu up and running on my computer, and when that happened, one of the brothers (really into indie pop-rock) showed me this fun online radio website. Indie Pop-rocks was the station, and this came on. I had never heard anything quite like it before, and asked if we could find out what the song was called; and the quirky voice (Boeckner's, I believe) reminded me of one Brian Warner (aka Marilyn Manson); not just the high notes, but also the pronunciation. It was something you could dance to, bang the keys on the piano, too, sing to, go anywhere (on foot or soaring), to.





I had an immediate liking to this track, too. I must have listened to it at a hundred times while reading Gantz
And that brings back fond memories.
And that is how the album ends.











And here is the album version, as ethereal and mysterious as ever.


I have for you, here, uploaded the album Apologies to the Queen Mary

Dive in to Wolf Parade 


Friday, February 25, 2011

When We Was Fab








Happy birthday, George












Blow your harmonica, son!




Well I'm about to get sick
From watchin' my TV
Been checkin' out the news
Until my eyeballs fail to see
I mean to say that every day
Is just another rotten mess
And when it's gonna change, my friend
Is anybody's guess

So I'm watchin' and I'm waitin'
Hopin' for the best
Even think I'll go to prayin'
Every time I hear 'em sayin'
That there's no way to delay
That trouble comin' every day
No way to delay
That trouble comin' every day

Wednesday I watched the riot . . .
Seen the cops out on the street
Watched 'em throwin' rocks and stuff
And chokin' in the heat
Listened to reports
About the whisky passin' 'round
Seen the smoke and fire
And the market burnin' down
Watched while everybody
On his street would take a turn
To stomp and smash and bash and crash
And slash and bust and burn

And I'm watchin' and I'm waitin'
Hopin' for the best
Even think I'll go to prayin'
Every time I hear 'em sayin'
That there's no way to delay
That trouble comin' every day
No way to delay
That trouble comin' every day

Well, you can cool it,
You can heat it . . .
'Cause, baby, I don't need it . . .
Take your TV tube and eat it
'N all that phony stuff on sports
'N all the unconfirmed reports
You know I watched that rotten box
Until my head begin to hurt
From checkin' out the way
The newsman say they get the dirt
Before the guys on channel so-and-so

And further they assert
That any show they'll interrupt
To bring you news if it comes up
They say that if the place blows up
They will be the first to tell,
Because the boys they got downtown
Are workin' hard and doin' swell,
And if anybody gets the news
Before it hits the street,
They say that no one blabs it faster
Their coverage can't be beat
And if another woman driver
Gets machine-gunned from her seat
They'll send some joker with a brownie
And you'll see it all complete

So I'm watchin' and I'm waitin'
Hopin' for the best
Even think I'll go to prayin'
Every time I hear 'em sayin'
That there's no way to delay
That trouble comin' every day
No way to delay
That trouble comin' every day

Hey, you know something people?
I'm not black
But there's a whole lots a times
I wish I could say I'm not white

Well, I seen the fires burnin'
And the local people turnin'
On the merchants and the shops
Who used to sell their brooms and mops
And every other household item
Watched the mob just turn and bite 'em
And they say it served 'em right
Because a few of them are white,
And it's the same across the nation
Black and white discrimination
Yellin' "You can't understand me!"
'N all that other jazz they hand me
In the papers and TV and
All that mass stupidity
That seems to grow more every day
Each time you hear some nitwit say
He wants to go and do you in
Because the color of your skin
Just don't appeal to him
(No matter if it's black or white)
Because he's out for blood tonight

You know we got to sit around at home
And watch this thing begin
But I bet there won't be many live
To see it really end
'Cause the fire in the street
Ain't like the fire in the heart
And in the eyes of all these people
Don't you know that this could start
On any street in any town
In any state if any clown
Decides that now's the time to fight
For some ideal he thinks is right
And if a million more agree
There ain't no Great Society
As it applies to you and me
Our country isn't free
And the law refuses to see
If all that you can ever be
Is just a lousy janitor
Unless your uncle owns a store
You know that five in every four
Just won't amount to nothin' more
Gonna watch the rats go across the floor
And make up songs about being poor

Blow your harmonica, son!

Sunday, February 20, 2011

Hooligans and Mad Men, Hooligans and Mad Men

For to see Mad Tom of Bedlam,
Ten thousand miles I've traveled.
Mad Maudlin goes on dirty toes,
For to save her shoes from gravel


























To find my Tom of Bedlam
ten thousand years I'll travel,
Mad Maudlin goes with dirty toes
to save her shoes from gravel.

Yet will I sing bonny boys,
bonny mad boys,
Bedlam boys are bonny;
they still go bare
and live by the air,
and want no drink nor money.

I now repent that ever
poor Tom was so distain'd,
my wits are lost since I him crossed,
which makes me thus go chain'd.

Yet will I sing......

My staff hath murder'd giants,
my bag a long knife carries,
to cut mince pies from children's thights,
with which I feed the fairies.

Yet will I sing......

I went to Pluto's kitchen,
to beg some food one morning,
and there I got souls piping hot,
with which the spits were turning.

Yet will I sing......

Then took I up a cauldron
where boiled ten thousand harlots,
'twas full of flame, yet I drank the same
to the health of all such varlets.

Yet will I sing......

A spirit hot as lightning,
did in that journey guide me,
the sun did shake, and the moon pale quake,
as soon as ever they spied me.

Yet will I sing......

No gipsy, slut or doxy
shall wind my mad Tom from me,
we'll sleep all night, and with stars fight:
the fray will well become me.

Yet will I sing......

And when that I have beaten
the man in the moon to powder,
his dog I'll take, and him I'll make
as could not Daemon louder.

Yet will I sing......


---


From the hagg and hungrie goblin
That into raggs would rend ye,
And the spirit that stands by the naked man
In the Book of Moones - defend ye!
That of your five sound senses
You never be forsaken,
Nor wander from your selves with Tom
Abroad to beg your bacon.

(Chorus; sung after every verse)

While I doe sing "any foode, any feeding,
Feedinge, drinke or clothing,"
Come dame or maid, be not afraid,
Poor Tom will injure nothing.

Of thirty bare years have I
Twice twenty been enraged,
And of forty been three times fifteen
In durance soundly caged.
On the lordly lofts of Bedlam,
With stubble soft and dainty,
Brave bracelets strong, sweet whips ding-dong,
With wholesome hunger plenty.

With a thought I took for Maudlin
And a cruse of cockle pottage,
With a thing thus tall, skie blesse you all,
I befell into this dotage.
I slept not since the Conquest,
Till then I never waked,
Till the roguish boy of love where I lay
Me found and stript me naked.

When I short have shorne my sowre face
And swigged my horny barrel,
In an oaken inn I pound my skin
As a suit of gilt apparel.
The moon's my constant Mistrisse,
And the lowly owl my morrowe,
The flaming Drake and the Nightcrow make
Me music to my sorrow.

The palsie plagues my pulses
When I prigg your pigs or pullen,
Your culvers take, or matchless make
Your Chanticleers, or sullen.
When I want provant, with Humfrie
I sup, and when benighted,
I repose in Powles with waking souls
Yet never am affrighted.

I know more than Apollo ,
For oft, when he lies sleeping
I see the stars at bloody wars
In the wounded welkin weeping,
The moone embrace her shepherd
And the queen of Love her warrior,
While the first doth horne the star of morne,
And the next the heavenly Farrier.

The Gipsie Snap and Pedro
Are none of Tom's companions.
The punk I skorne and the cut purse sworne
And the roaring boyes bravadoe.
The meek, the white, the gentle,
Me handle touch and spare not
But those that crosse Tom Rynosseros
Do what the panther dare not.

With a host of furious fancies
Whereof I am commander,
With a burning spear and a horse of air,
To the wilderness I wander.
By a knight of ghostes and shadowes
I summon'd am to tourney
Ten leagues beyond the wild world's end.
Methinks it is no journey.

anonymous, 1634
with modernized spelling by Bloom

Stand by Me










When the night has come, and the land is dark
And the moon is the only light we will see
No, I won't be afraid, oh, I won't be afraid
Just as long as you stand, stand by me
So darlin', darlin' stand by me
Oh stand by me
Oh stand, stand by me, stand by me

If the sky that we look upon should tumble and fall
Or the mountain should crumble to the sea
I won't cry, I won't cry, no, I won't shed a tear
Just as long as you stand, stand by me
And darlin', darlin' stand by me
Oh stand by me
Whoa stand now, stand by me, stand by me
*Solo*

And darlin', darlin' stand by me
Oh stand by me
Oh stand now, stand by me, stand by me

If the sky that we look upon should tumble and fall
Or the mountain should crumble to the sea
I won't cry, I won't cry, no, I won't shed a tear
Just as long as you stand, stand by me
And darlin', darlin' stand by me
Oh stand by me
Whoa stand now, stand by me, stand by me
So darlin', darlin' stand by me
Oh stand by me
Oh stand now, stand by me, stand by me
Whenever you're in trouble won't you stand by me
Oh stand by me
Whoa stand now, oh stand, stand by me...

Tribulation(s)

Bottling acts offstage (being forced off stage by a barrage of audience-thrown plastic bottles and cans) is a popular 'tradition' at the (Reading) festival. While the mass-participation can and bottle fights of the 1970s and 1980s have long since ended, unpopular bands have been bottled offstage throughout the festival's history. Examples include:
  • The 1983 reggae act Steel Pulse suffered possibly the most vicious bottling-off ever seen at the Festival, before or since, disappearing within moments of appearing on stage under an avalanche of missiles launched by the temporarily united ranks of punks and rockers waiting to see The Stranglers.
  • In 1988, Bonnie Tyler bravely completed her set despite an unending barrage of bottles, turf and litter. Unfortunately, the day's headliner Meat Loaf was not so brave, retreating 20 minutes into his set after taking a full 2-litre cider bottle in the face.
  • In 2000, Daphne and Celeste were scheduled on the main stage after bullying their manager to get on the bill, and were bottled off after two songs.
  • In 2004, it was the turn of rapper 50 Cent, who was pelted with bottles. 50 Cent lasted nearly 20 minutes before finally throwing his microphone into the crowd in anger. The Rasmus were also bottled off following one song.
  • In 2006 at Reading, Panic! at the Disco lead singer Brendon Urie was struck on the head with a plastic bottle, forcing the band to stop mid-song as he lay on the floor. Urie received treatment from his road crew for several minutes, before the band continued from the point at which their song was interrupted.
  • In 2008, a crowd of approximately 3,000 people attended the BBC Introducing Stage at Reading to see unsigned band 'The FF'ers' following rumours that it would actually be a secret Foo Fighters gig and were subjected to a large amount of abuse from the audience, including several bottles launched at the band. The Plain White Ts were also heavily bottled when appearing on Sunday's main stage (otherwise dominated by metal acts). 






Via Wikipedia










trib·u·la·tion
 (trby-lshn)
n.
1. Great affliction, trial, or distress; suffering: Their tribulation has finally passed. See Synonyms at trial.
2. An experience that tests one's endurance, patience, or faith. See Synonyms at burden1.
tribulation [ˌtrɪbjʊˈleɪʃən]
n
1. a cause of distress
2. a state of suffering or distress
[from Old French, from Church Latin trībulātiō, from Latin trībulāre to afflict, from trībulum a threshing board, from terere to rub]
via The Free Dictionary

(About) Tracy Marander

Friday, February 18, 2011

illko birov - No Name (3)




I tuned my guitar a full step down to the key of D
That way I can sing all the songs I like, and it makes
it even more fun to play those old blues numbers
Tonight I decided to put a capo on the VI
And try to ring something out.
So I came up with this tune.
I really don't know what it reminds me of

But I can imagine people walking
Never talking though, I don't see that
I'm afraid you'll have to turn your speakers up
Some have their hands in their pockets
Others are waving their bandaged fingers around
Most are in a hurry, see
And it seems everybody wants to get found

It's like a halted bicycle race
A rat-chase
Some fat head with beady eyes
and a neck lace

I rarely think about it
Anything, to be exact
Row my boat, alas, I do
Fast or slow, doesn't matter
Since I'll be there
Any way

Ah! Still the purring
that automatic incessant whirling
even when it's dark and quiet
there's that swirl
Booming
And when you try to say something
It's too loud, or too dull
If it's readable, it's OK
Any way

Like a drill
But no, see: a fire
In your halls
(A wooden building, well wadduyah know)
Just waiting to burn
All of those manuscripts
That made up what you're about
To learn

And don't
Anyway

You feel like walking
Never talking, just staring, imagine
Passing by
But not recognizing
Trying to get by
And do nowhere
Because it's fun
It's hip
It's cool
And gone
As are all the Greyhound buses
all the hitchhikers
And tank-top girls
And passersby

And yet some have their hands in their pockets
Others have got none
Or enjoy showing their hands
Either way
But what can you really have
When you're just walking
And seldom talking, seemingly unprepared
Joked all night at a masquerade mask
What have you got
What could you want?

I'll give my guitar that extra step tomorrow
See, my voice needs the struggle
Those crazy old songs sound higher
Anyway
I'll give myself that extra walk
I'll remember old letters
And then I'll talk
I'll think about the cold
And Lovelace
And how it hasn't been like that for years
And Clara
Yet there isn't much snow
Not much snow around at all
Melted, you see.
Feel you could freeze to the bone
And stare at concrete while at it
Imagine a concrete wall
Not much going on lately
Just people up and down
Coming and going
Mostly going
Any way

And as I said earlier, you're just walking
Some people have dreams they'd like
To make yers
Some dreams, I'd say (to that scheme)
Never talking though
Seldom corresponding
Not very much left to say
Anyway



Wednesday, February 16, 2011

The Revolution Will Not Be Televised




Наскоро по Mezzo хванах един концерт на Meshell Ndegeocello и нейната група в Париж.
Chris Bruce на китарата
Mark Kelly на бас..

Едно от изпълненията, които силно ме грабнаха, беше кавър на песента по-горе от Gil Scott-Heron

Чуйте Meshell в Сиатъл с една съвременна версия








Ilko Birov Live at Maria Luiza

На 19 февруари, 2011






С нови песни.

Sunday, February 13, 2011

Иван Ланджев и книгата "По вина на Боби Фишер" с участието на Илко Биров

Иван Ланджев


И

Илко Биров







Представят книгата По вина на Боби Фишер на Иван Ланджев в клуб Петното на Роршах (страницата) на 22.02.2011, от 19:00.





...Иван Ланджев (1986) е завършил философия в СУ „Св. Климент Охридски”, в момента следва културология – „Изкуства и съвременност (XX-XXIв.)”. Победител е в националния конкурс за поезия „Веселин Ханчев”, 2009.
През 2010 дебютната му стихосбирка „По вина на Боби Фишер” (изд. Сиела) е номинирана за Националната награда за поезия „Иван Николов”.
Негови текстове (поезия и проза) са публикувани в редица списания и вестници: „Капитал Light", "Егоист", „Мениджър”, „Монитор”, „24 часа”, „Сега”, “EVA”, "Една седмица в София", „Алтера”, „Алтера академика”, „Литературен вестник” и др. Работи като телевизионен сценарист.
Блогът му е тук: http://landzhev.blogspot.com/.


Авторът за книгата: "Заглавието е оправдание – защото вината се нуждае от носител и трябва да се намери виновник за всички странни решения. За налудността в стиховете и за неадекватността наоколо – за случките, веществата, думите и музиката. Животът не е шах, но хората го играят едни срещу други. Авторът записва ходовете си. Резултатът е поезия."


---
Иван Ланджев мести добре. Освен това в партията му с думите няма жалостиви поплаци, няма шедьоври на самосъжалението и автоупоение от това, колко талантливо той, играчът Ланджев, може да е нещастен.
В поезията ни навлиза перо, което презира евтините утехи на случайността и самохипнотизирането с масови митове. И внимателно придвижва думите към квадрати, където те се пълнят с неподозирана за дилетанта мощ.
Значи знае за какво става дума. Или поне дава такъв вид.
Засега е повече от достатъчно.
Бойко Ламбовски
Нехайна и нахакана, поезията на Иван Ланджев преминава през града (къде ще идем/ и какво ще пишем/ за какво ще викаме/ ако не сме ведно с града), спира за кратко при шахматистите в градинката пред Народния, премества някоя фигура, пуши, пие, прави любов, въобще – държи  се нормално.
„По вина на Боби Фишер“ е под влияние на толкова неща, най-вече на поезията. Стихотворения, които стават за четене.
Силвия Чолева

Добра дебютна партия поезия. Иван Ланджев се учи от словесните и житейски ходове на Вапцаров, Елиът, Константин Павлов, Буковски и Кърт Кобейн, но е предимно себе си – талантлив и своеобразен. Ироничен, сериозен, с очила на носа, безочлив, влюбен, егоистичен и отдаващ се. И най-вече искрен, свободен и честен. Основни съставки на поезията. И на шаха.
Стефан Иванов


Поезията на Иван Ланджев ли? Не помня от кога не съм чел нещо толкова приятно! Изобщо г-н Ланджев е един от малкото живи хора, които се навъртат наоколо...
Тома Марков

---

Прочетете и избрани произведения от тук: Ланджев в litclub






Надявам се да се видим там.


A Story of Over 50,000 Words Without Using the Letter "E"

Ernest Vincent Wright's Gadsby









Gadsby is a 1939 novel by Ernest Vincent Wright. The plot revolves around the dying fictional city of Branton Hills, which is revitalized thanks to the efforts of protagonist John Gadsby and a youth group he organizes.

The novel is written as a lipogram and does not include words that contain the letter "e". Though self-published and little-noticed in its time, the book is a favorite of fans of constrained writing and is a sought-after rarity among some book collectors. Later editions of the book have sometimes carried the alternative subtitle: 50,000 Word Novel Without the Letter "E".

The novel's 50,110 words do not contain a single "e." In Gadsby's introduction Wright says his primary difficulty was avoiding the "-ed" suffix for past tense verbs. He focused on using verbs that do not take the -ed suffix and constructions with "do" (for instance "did walk" instead of "walked"). Scarcity of word options also drastically limited discussion involving quantity, pronouns, and many common words. Wright was unable to talk about any quantity between six and thirty. An article in the linguistic journal Word Ways said that 250 of the 500 most commonly used words in English were still available to Wright despite the omission of words with "e." Wright uses abbreviations on occasion, but only if the full form is similarly lipogrammatic, such as with "Dr.", and "P.S.".
Wright also turns famous sayings into lipogrammatic form. Music can "calm a wild bosom", and Keats' "a thing of beauty is a joy forever" becomes "a charming thing is a joy always."

Wright appears to have worked on the manuscript for a number of years. Though its official publication date is 1939, references in newspaper humor columns are made to his manuscript of a book without an "e" years earlier. Prior to publication he occasionally referred to his manuscript as Champion of Youth. In October 1930, while Wright was living near Tampa, Florida, he wrote a letter to The Evening Independent newspaper, boasted that he had written a fine lipogrammatic work, and suggested the paper hold a lipogram competition, with $250 for the winner. The paper turned him down.
Wright struggled to find a publisher for the book, and eventually used Wetzel Publishing Co., a vanity press. A 2007 post on the Bookride blog about rare books says a warehouse holding copies of Gadsby burned shortly after the book was printed, destroying "most copies of the ill fated novel." The blog post says the book was never reviewed "and only kept alive by the efforts of a few avant garde French intellos and assorted connoisseurs of the odd, weird and zany." The book's scarcity and oddness has seen original copies priced at $4,000 by book dealers Wright died that same year.
In 1937 Wright said writing the book was a challenge and the author of an article on his efforts in The Oshkosh Daily wryly recommended composing lipograms for insomnia sufferers. Wright said in his introduction to Gadsby that "this story was written, not through any attempt to attain literary merit, but due to a somewhat balky nature, caused by hearing it so constantly claimed that 'it can’t be done.'" He said he tied down the "e" key on his typewriter while completing the final manuscript. "This was done so that none of that vowel might slip in, accidentally; and many did try to do so!"




via Wikipedia

And now, I present to you:


introduction by the author

THE ENTIRE MANUSCRIPT of this story was written with the E type-bar of the typewriter tied down; thus making it impossible for that letter to be printed. This was done so that none of that vowel might slip in, accidentally; and many did try to do so!
There is a great deal of information as to what Youth can do, if given a chance; and, though it starts out in somewhat of an impersonal vein, there is plenty of thrill, rollicking comedy, love, courtship, marriage, patriotism, sudden tragedy, a determined stand against liquor, and some amusing political aspirations in a small growing town.
In writing such a story, —purposely avoiding all words containing the vowel E, there are a great many difficulties. The greatest of these is met in the past tense of verbs, almost all of which end with “—ed.” Therefore substitutes must be found; and they are very few. This will cause, at times, a somewhat monotonous use of such words as “said;” for neither “replied,” “answered” nor “asked” can be used. Another difficulty comes with the elimination of the common couplet “of course,” and its very common connective, “consequently ;” which will’ unavoidably cause “bumpy spots.” The numerals also cause plenty of trouble, for none between six and thirty are available. When introducing young ladies into the story, this is a real barrier; for what young woman wants to have it known that she is over thirty? And this restriction on numbers, of course taboos all mention of dates.
Many abbreviations also must be avoided; the most common of all, “Mr.” and “Mrs.” being particularly troublesome; for those words, if read aloud, plainly indicate the E in their orthography.
As the vowel E is used more than five times oftener than any other letter, this story was written, not through any attempt to attain literary merit, but due to a somewhat balky nature, caused by hearing it so constantly claimed that “it can’t be done; for you cannot say anything at all without using E, and make smooth continuity, with perfectly grammatical construction—” so ‘twas said.
Many may think that I simply “drop” the E’s, filling the gaps with apostrophes. A perusal of the book will show that this is not so. All words used are complete; are correctly spelled and properly used. This has been accomplished through the use of synonyms; and, by so twisting a sentence around as to avoid ambiguity. The book may prove a valuable aid to school children in English composition.
People, as a rule, will not stop to realize what a task such an attempt actually is. As I wrote along, in long-hand at first, a whole army of little E’s gathered around my desk, all eagerly expecting to be called upon. But gradually as they saw me writing on and on, without even noticing them, they grew uneasy; and, with excited whisperings amongst themselves, began hopping up and riding on my pen, looking down constantly for a chance to drop off into some word; for all the world like sea-birds perched, watching for a passing fish! But when they saw that I had covered 138 pages of typewriter size paper, they slid off onto the floor, walking sadly away, arm in arm; but shouting back:
“You certainly must have a hodge-podge of a yarn there without Us! Why, man! We are in every story ever written, hundreds of thousands of times! This is the first time we ever were shut out!”
Pronouns also caused trouble; for such words as he, she, they, them, theirs, her, herself, myself, himself, yourself, etc., could not be utilized. But a particularly annoying obstacle comes when, almost through a long paragraph you can find no words with which to continue that line of thought; hence, as in Solitaire, you are “stuck,” and must go way back and start another; which, of course, must perfectly fit the preceding context.
I have received some extremely odd criticisms since the Associated Press widely announced that such a book was being written. A rapid-talking New York newspaper columnist wanted to know how I would get over the plain fact that my name contains the letter E three times. As an author’s name is not a part of his story, that criticism did not hold water. And I received one most scathing epistle from a lady (woman!) denouncing me as a “genuine fake;” (that paradox being a most interesting one!), and ending by saying: — “Everyone knows that such a feat is impossible.” All right. Then the impossible has been accomplished; ( a paradox to equal hers!) Other criticism may be directed at the Introduction; but this section of a story also is not part of it. The author is entitled to it, in order properly to explain his work. The story required five and a half months of concentrated endeavor, with so many erasures and retrenchments that I tremble as I think of them. Of course anybody can write such a story. All that is needed is a piece of string tied from the E type-bar down to some part of the base of the typewriter. Then simply go ahead and type your story. Incidentally, you should have some sort of a bromide preparation handy, for use when the going gets rough, as it most assuredly will!
Before the book was in print, I was freely and openly informed “there is a trick, or catch, somewhere in that claim that there is not one letter E in the entire book, after you leave the Introduction,” Well; it is the privilege of the reader to unearth any such deception that he or she may think they can find. I have even ordered the printer not to head each chapter with the words “Chapter 2,” etc., on account of that bothersome E in that word.
In closing let me say that I trust you may learn to love all the young folks in the story, as deeply as I have, in introducing them to you. Like many a book, it grows more and more interesting as the reader becomes well acquainted with the characters.

Ernest Vincent Wright
Los Angeles, California
February, 1939
 .
Read the rest here: from 1 to not so far away



Finis

Saturday, February 12, 2011

Ilko - Unwell (Matchbox Twenty Cover)

Една от любимите ми песни





All day
Staring at the ceiling
Making friends with shadows on my wall
All night
Hearing voices telling me
That I should get some sleep
Because tomorrow might be good for something
Hold on
I'm feeling like I'm headed for a
Breakdown
I don't know why
I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell
I know, right now you can't tell
But stay awhile and maybe then you'll see
A different side of me
I'm not crazy, I'm just a little impaired
I know, right now you don't care
But soon enough you're gonna think of me
And how I used to be
Me
Talking to myself in public
Dodging glances on the train
I know
I know they've all been talking 'bout me
I can hear them whisper
And it makes me think there must be something wrong
With me
Out of all the hours thinking
Somehow
I've lost my mind
I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell
I know, right now you can't tell
But stay awhile and maybe then you'll see
A different side of me
I'm not crazy, I'm just a little impaired
I know right now you don't care
But soon enough you're gonna think of me
And how I used to be
I been talking in my sleep
Pretty soon they'll come to get me
Yeah, they're taking me away
I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell
I know, right now you can't tell
But stay awhile and maybe then you'll see
A different side of me
I'm not crazy I'm just a little impaired
I know, right now you don't care
But soon enough you're gonna think of me
And how I used to be
Hey, how I used to be
How I used to be, yeah
Well I'm just a little unwell
How I used to be
How I used to be

Ilko Birov - Improvisation Time

Friday, February 11, 2011

Музика в обектива







Регионален исторически музй-Пловдив и Фотографска Академия-София Ви канят на откриването на международна  фотоизложба „Музика в обектива” на 11 февруари, 17.30 часа в залата на  Музеен центьр за сьвременна история на ул. Ангел Букорещлиев № 14.
Колекцията се състои от наградени творби на автори от България, Хърватска, Дания, Германия, Израел, Италия, Литва, Молдова, Русия, Испания, Шри Ланка, Тайван, Украина, Виетнам, участници във II Международен фотоконкурс  „FLASH MUSIC”.
Сьс специалното участие на група „STANTON DREW” и д-р Георги Горялов-тромпет.

Изложбата ще продължи до 5 март 2011 г.


Приех поканата и с един приятел отидохме. Една от първите снимки, които видях, беше на BB King, и през цялото време това силно впечатление не ме остави, тъй като всичките бяха хубави (и повечето ми харесаха; наистина открих своите кадри там). Групата обаче можеше да посвири още малко, защото Да, имаше хора, които слушаха това, което правят, и Не, непосредствено до стълбите отвън не е най-хубавото място за вечеринка с китара (след като си изсвириш сета). Авторските им песни ми харесаха (само такива изпълниха), а и все пак Горялов не свиреше никак зле - жалко, че на певеца, който се присъедини не му донесоха китара. Имах някаква надежда в началото, че ще се съберат да направят нещо заедно като за финал (тромпет и две китари?). 
Иначе снимах с най-мизерната камера от всички в стаята, която дори не е моя, както напомни шеговито този приятел, с който бяхме отишли. Засякохме се там с една фотографка от Пловдив, която има много хубава музика зад обектива си, и не по-лоша изложба зад гърба си от тази, на чиято откриване бяхме днес - Вижте страницата й в Deviantart

И кадри от днес тук: 































Ами ако имаще цигулка, три китари и контрабас?