Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
When I Get Back To Memphis There Will Be One Less Man Alive
I felt the pull of my Southern roots, the pull of whiskey, and the magic of being just, of being alive, and of always being the one with supreme morals in a Yankee world.
I remembered what Aesop remembered about fire escapes and visions.
I remembered other things that people remembered.
I remembered Old Dean Moriarity, again and again, and how it’s time to move, again and again, without breaking any hearts, but, ultimately, it's TIME TO MOVE, and how that's perpetual.
I remembered Jack Rose and how even though I didn’t know him I knew him, perhaps simply in virtue of having seen Fredericksburg glow in supernatural ecstasy, and now I futuristically remember his memorial concert coming up this weekend.
I remembered snow days, and not having to go to work, and how snow is the natural world, and how nature is somehow inside of me, and inside of us, and how nature can shut down the other world of work, and how that power sits dormant inside of me and us, and how we have the power, just like nature, to shut this motherfucker down ANYTIME/ANYDAY if only we wanted to.
I remembered EASY WIND.
Monday, February 8, 2010
Hope Is Lack Of Information
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Tonight There's Gonna Be A Jailbreak
Friday, February 5, 2010
Choppin Wood
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Post-Show: Stellar Om Source / Daniel Higgs / Zomes

This review was originally published by Tiny Mix Tapes.
[Brickbat Books; Philadelphia, PA]
[01-29-2010]
Photo: Dan Cohoon
Zomes is the recording project of Asa Osbourne, who used to play guitar in Lungfish alongside Daniel Higgs. As on his 2008 Holy Mountain Records debut, Osbourne’s performance gear consists of a series of pre-recorded percussion tapes and a keyboard run through several effects pedals that distort, fuzz, and sustain the phrases. The consequence is a mesmerizing and head-nodding pop world stripped of all frills; minimal, and confidently basic. The beats and simple pop phrases conjoin in a sonically sophisticated and architectural way, and while there may be better comparisons, the repetitive sounds instantly reminded me of Jackie Mittoo. Osbourne’s bare sound structures leave much space for autonomous thinking, namely for the listener to imagine the possibility of additional pop fills that the artist cleverly denies due to his well-practiced restraint and allegiance to pop minimalism.
Daniel Higgs has a sage presence that warms up a room. He’s some sort of hyper-spiritualized and worldly warrior/comedian who has returned from outside places to deliver coded messages, warnings, laughs, and blessings. Armed with a profound understanding of oratorical power, his mostly improvised parables and chants fully absorb the listener like opium. His banjo sounded like it was played through an amplified radiator, jagged and brushed with steel wool, transitioning between folk phrases and violent raga outbursts. While his stories and lessons are enticing, they quickly become preachy. Given our constant bombardment with persuasive language – the politician, the preacher, the monsters of advertising, the boss, the culture industry, and so on – silence and non-verbal sound may be more appropriate for healing and learning. Higgs’ aesthetic, though, is deeply rooted in the oral tradition.
The crowd significantly thinned during and after Higgs' performance. By the time Stellar Om Source, the sound project of synth-lord Christelle Gualdi, juiced up her sound stations and got the green-light waves swirling around the room it was possible to see her furiously spinning and tweaking the countless knobs and pedals. Gualdi has created a sizeable discography over the past 5 or so years, though I’m most impressed with her 2009 self-released CDR, Ocean Woman. The moods and sounds are concurrently meditative and intense, flirting with New Age sound without falling into sweat-lodge-dehydration ridiculousness and pounding the keys toward some unrealized past or future world like fellow hypnagogist Daniel Lopatin. Her synth waves delicately washed over and pulsed through the room, soothing and blasting minds out into other spaces. Without being restricted by time and beat, the rootless sounds are free to linger and float, searching for some curious ear. Seeing this music performed live only increases the joy: leaping and grooving behind the multiple sound-stations like some deranged astronaut who's attempting to remember which button delivers the ship to eternal bliss. Regardless of whether you prefer to call this recent return to the synthesizer h-pop or neo-Kosmische or something else, Gualdi is constructing some powerful sound-worlds that deserve exploration.