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"Lysergic Interlude (Ice Cream Dude Sells E)" [mp3 removed]. The drums are 808 samples and the song incorporates a longish acid house break. The schizo title reflects my current ambivalence between art and street, I guess. Nice quote from 808 State liner notes ca 1999: "The injustice, if you're looking for it, is that out of the whole Manchester scene of [the late '80s], the Inspiral Carpets and the Stone Roses are seen as history's heroes. All the while, Gerald's "Voodoo Ray" and 808 State's Newbuild were championing a whole new way of making music, a music that had no reference and didn't need or want anything to do with guitars (Richard Hector Jones)." Been looking for a Brendan M. Gillen quote to the same effect--that the 808 drum machine was a paradigmatic instrument like the electric guitar. If only it were true. Pop culture is still addicted to the angry skronk of guitar feedback as the numero uno indicia of (commodified) rebellion, while the 808 has lapsed back to cult status, post the rave era.
SCREENFULL has been inactive for a while but jimpunk has a new interactive piece: "Joseph.Beuys - JA JA JA JA JA NEE NEE NEE NEE NEE - AsCii Sound rem:x - #1 - 20051013-12:04." A shamanistic utterance by Beuys--not familiar with the clip--is given the Steve Reich "Come Out" treatment in three dimensions, the dimensions being height, width, and time. The sound bites overlap, go out of phase, and echo as you move a cursor around an ASCII Beuys image--kind of a speak and spell granular sampler. Subject to the usual gripes about making art based on the work of famous cult artists, checking it out is recommended. How's that for passive construction to avoid the self-absorbed sounding first person?
Everyone's eagerly awaiting the report from the Plamegate prosecutor but color me pessimistic. Not that there won't be indictments but that nothing will change. Tom Delay is still running the House despite "stepping aside" as House maj. leader because the Republicans are addicted to his corrupt money spigot. He just got an egregious oil company subsidy passed with the same arm-twisting, rule-flouting tactics he used before his indictments, and is doing everything in his power to break Ronnie Earle, the brave public servant in Austin who stood up to him. Expect the tarring of Patrick Fitzgerald to begin if he indicts Rove and Co., and don't expect Mr. No Neck Baby Face Slimemeister to stop advising Bush. Our Congress is so weak and hooked on corporate money that they're waiting for these prosecutors to do what all of them should have done years ago, which is bring these bastards down.
Posting has been a bit sluggish as I move the music production up another level with the acquisition of a laptop (no!) and MOTU audio interface. Thanks to all who have been listening. With the second PC I will be able to record multitrack in real time with a couple of outboard instruments (at least in theory). I've had the capability to do it with one computer, but with my CPU maxing out on the production end, I want to try recording elsewhere. I ruled out a hardware multitrack recorder in favor of doing as much as possible in the computer. I don't really need the outboard gear but the Sidstation adds a definite crackly aura and I've been hankering to play around with an analog drum machine.
I'm also having to contend for the first time with "mouse arm." I went through a couple of rounds of RSI from typing and drawing and thought I had it licked, but the music introduces a whole new set of muscles to fuck up. Fortunately I'm ambidextrous when it comes to clicking little squares so I can spread the stress around. It was turning the virtual knobs that was getting me--I'm too lazy and/or impulsive to permanently assign controllers to real knobs. Sorry for the medical report but I offer it as a word of caution to computer-using musicians who haven't come up against this. Take breaks, stretch, switch arms.
current mood:
awakecurrent music: ectomorph, first ep; morton subotnick, touch; plaid, "chirpy"; sun ra, it's after the end of the world ("don't you know that yet?"); schlammpeitziger spacerokkmountainrutschquartier; ebe, "the drifting"; antonelli electr, "anti-establishment"; aux 88, electroboogie; nitzer ebb," join in the chant"; paul mccartney ram (don't laugh, there's some great brian wilsonian songs here, and besides, i'm studying multitracking). more as i remember what i've been playing.
more on mccartney: forget the pretentious john, sir paul is the best beatle. a melody machine, and so understated and intuitive in his intellect compared to mr. i'm a sodding artist. "mother nature's child"--brilliant and banal, hemingwayesque in its denial of crisis, proto-jeff koons; it's pure songstery joy with all those do do doos and wa wa waas but how could it possibly be on the level? according to mccartney's autobiography a few years back, he was the one experimenting with tape loops, introducing them on "tomorrow never knows" and pushing forward with sonic experimentation in "revolution 9." i believe it! there's a long passage in the book where he describes watching richard hamilton assemble the photos for the white album poster, the curiosity about and reverence for visual art there is palpable. and the brian wilson friendship/rivalry is fascinating--talent knows talent. sir paul, yeah! enough with the john john john all the time.
Granola, 1996-7, photocopies collaged on unfolded granola boxes, approx. 60" x 40". Scan of polaroid. Stuff keeps turning up that I never showed, but still get all nostalgic about. Whether I actually consumed this cereal will remain a mystery. Also tagged with (mostly) molecular imagery and unshown are a saltine box, packaging for Folger's "coffee teabags" (a brilliant idea), and a cardboard sleeve for shower curtain rings.
Future rant: a walk through this selection of Net art at the Whitney from a couple of Biennials back, which was just impossible to interact with, or to want to interact with, in a museum environment, versus this great page Olia Lialina alerted me to a short while ago, which would have been tons of fun in a museum if properly presented and would have given Net Art a good name, as opposed to an invitation not to come back for future Biennials. Olia explains about the piece: "in 2003 my students were celebrating 10 years of the WWW. One of the objects was made of found bullets." Bullets, yes! Just f*cking bullets. No page-long back story, no navigation nightmares, no frozen screens (well, maybe the last). Student work or no, it's a bang-on elegant piece, continuing the Schwitters tradition of making art out of pop trash, in contrast to the Mondrianic mien of hermetically sealed art perfection. One could envision this projected really large, and with something other than a mouse, say a foot switch or button on a podium, that could steer you around the web ring of bullet patterns. People would be standing around ooh-ing and aah-ing as each new magnificent phalanx of back buttons loomed before their eyes, instead of disgustedly walking away from the workstation ghetto with a terminal case of knotted up shoulder muscles.
Paintings by Stephen Bush, from Melbourne, in an upcoming show at Goff + Rosenthal in NYC. Can't vouch for these in person because I haven't seen them yet but the jpegs are pretty dynamic. Like a more serious Martin Kippenberger, who also painted on top of those smeary, Helen Frankenthaler-by-way-of-the-carnival-booth abstractions. The post-industrial, Little House on the Prairie on Mars theme (at least in the top three) is intriguing, and you have to give props to any artist willing to stake an entire exhibit on pink and green.