literature

We separate ourselves through a broken language from the surrounding milieu. Both bird and tree are the same. A guest here says god is an astronaut – if he is; then his ship must be in for repairs or he has abandoned us for a cleaner, less f*&^ked up planet and people elsewhere? Do the quantum notions of great astrophysical thinkers, the musings of Von Daniken or the ’superstition’ of pagan systems offer us any further respite?

How do you know but every Bird that cuts the airy way
Is an immense world of delight, closed by your senses five?

I first saw House when I was maybe twelve or thirteen years old, and,  it changed everything for me.

House`s sounds are characteristically steam driven rhythmic explorations of disturbingly apocryphal and intense gothic desolation, loss, isolation and spiritual retribution. His early experience as a baptist preacher
bleeds through and informs his vocals empowering them with an incantatory, mesmeric resonance that borders on Native American shamanism. House`s lexicon occupies a position of such emotional lucidity and trail blazing acuity that much of what followed after him could be viewed as incomplete, inchoate gestural cliches. It was House who, speaking to awe-struck young blues fans in the 1960s, spread the legend that Johnson had sold his soul to the Devil in exchange for his musical powers…but he musta been talking about hisself.

I got a letter this mornin, how do you reckon it read?
It said, “Hurry, hurry, yeah, your love is dead”

So, I grabbed up my suitcase, and took off down the road
When I got there she was layin on a coolin’ board

Well, I walked up right close, looked down in her face
Said, the good ol’ gal got to lay here ’til the Judgment Day

Looked like there was 10,000 people standin’ round the buryin’ ground
I didn’t know I loved her ’til they began to let her down

You know I didn’t feel so bad, ’til the good ol’ sun went down
I didn’t have a soul to throw my arms around

You know, it’s hard to love someone that don’t love you
Ain’t no satisfaction, don’t care what in the world you do

You know, love’s a hard ol’ fall, make you do things you don’t wanna do
Love sometimes leaves you feeling sad and blue

The mighty Son House. The real deal; spent the first half of his life in the Steam Age and the later half working on the New York Central Rail line. If this man`s music doesn’t move you – nothing will. You must be dead. In my humble opinion Son House is the greatest blues player of all time…

House was born in 1886 (officially) 1902 in Clarksdale, Mississippi and in his mid twenties, inspired by Willie Wilson, he bought a guitar and played alongside Charley Patton and Robert Johnson. Son House even spent time on Parchman Farm for killing a man in self defence.

House`s sounds are characteristically steam driven rhythmic explorations of disturbingly apocryphal and intense gothic desolation, loss, isolation and spiritual retribution.  His early experience as a baptist preacher bleeds through and informs his vocals empowering them with an incantatory, mesmeric resonance that borders on Native American shamanism.

House`s lexicon occupies a position of such emotional lucidity and trail blazing acuity that much of what followed after him could be viewed as incomplete, inchoate gestural cliches.

This is the voice of the Wicked Messenger, when he rolls back into town.

Robert Johnson; there`s a lot of hoodoo wrapped up around the man, in particular that he sold his soul to the devil down at the crossroads in Clarksdale. Originally, Son House suggested, Johnson was not regarded as a good musician at all but after the trade with Satan he returned with the blazing skills and blues mastery of a demi-god. Much of the early blues protagonists framed their content within the context of african american hoodoo/religious belief wrapped up in the historical context of migratory diaspora and most of the cliches of the blues narrative are more culturally rich in meaning than they might at first appear. The simple cliche alone of “the highway” is extrapolated and interpolated by numerous artists over the last 90 years by Bob Dylan alone many times across his recorded work. A great bridging work for the blues to the present date is Michael Gray’s ‘Song and Dance Man III’, which illustrated Dylan`s reappropriation of the blues through other song forms.

The narrative and folk tales, the telling of lies or competitive tales, the healthily obscene “putting in the dozens”, the long and witty toasts and the epigrammatic rhyming couplets which enliven the conversation of folk negro and harlem hipster alike, have their reflections in the blues.

Paul Oliver`s book “Conversation with the Blues” (1965)

There`s a great thesis here about the concept of the Trickster, which leads me onto what I`ve talked about previously with regards to Radioheads re-appropriation of the blues through a series of post modern metaphors and the Sublime. Eric Clapton himself has suggested that Johnson`s cross tempo work is unparalleled and Johnny Winter makes use of this technique also.

In the following video Eric Clapton, another “guitar hero” whose early songwriting capabilities and exploration of new genres (e.g. Cale & Marley) seems to be wholly forgotten now, talks about Robert Johnson and plays “Stones in the Passway”.

It`s a great place to start exploring what Robert Johnson has to offer and why he is who he is. It also illuminates the sheer technique, the impact of the unusual, that is often confused with something arcane, mythical, metaphysical, divine and otherworldly or more specifically in the blues with superstition, an encounter with the Devil or other dark force and the conceit of a conspirational universe.  It’s also interesting to note that the cross tempo section Eric Clapton discusses is a technique that many artists have plagiarised or emulated: Johnny Winter and Rory Gallagher have used it in varying degrees throughout their careers.

At any rate as much as Johnson’s technique was formidable and undeniably unique recordings have always sounded odd: his voice always seemed pitched too high and anyone who owns a gramophone knows that speed is ultimately the choice of the listener. Anyway, it seems that we may been listening to Robert Johnson at too many revolutions.
Touched.co.uk are offering Steady Rollin’ Man – 24 tracks of Robert Johnson slowed down – click here. I.M.H.O. this is the way Robert Johnson should sound and you can read all about it here.

the river became central to my experience…at the end of my time, the mother of pearl crucifix I wore around my neck for a decade had cracked and broken – on my last journey through the gorge cast my crucifix into the waters …When I came back into the countryside the following year,  the river welcomed me in high flood, submerging islands, wreaking havoc. I was inspired by true tales – real lives. sometimes anger and the devil will blind and trick you; choose the way of the gun and a vengeful Miltonic god or cast yourself asunder, through the tides.

… there is nothing more dangerous than a book.

A book is a bomb. A book is a time machine.
A book is a recruitment device. A book is mantra. A book is terror.
A book is enlightenment. A book is life. A book is death.
&cetera

read – change your life, open your head up like psilocybin and travel across the universe. If you aren`t forever changed, go back and find books that work.  If you think books aren`t one of the secrets to understanding the universe then you are wrong…. the work of the cosmos, that’s secret number one.

Genius is a word that`s bandied around these days as though it`s something that`s free, something to be found in the bottom of a packet of cornflakes. Not that rare gleaming like the flashing of a comet in the surface of a calderan lake. Unfortunately we live in an age of arch-mediocrity masquerading as noesis…….mostly through the perceived synonymity of marketing and meritocracy.
Achieving genius is often paraphrased as being “99 percent perspiration and 100 percent inspiration”.

A genius is a person who successfully applies a previously unknown technique in the production of a work of art, science or calculation, or who masters and personalizes a known technique. A genius typically possesses great intelligence or remarkable abilities in a specific subject, or shows an exceptional natural capacity of intellect and/or ability, especially in the production of creative and original work, something that has never been seen or evaluated previously. Traits often associated with genius include strong individuality, imagination, uniqueness, and innovative drive.

Achieving genius is more like evaporation, like boiling water. It takes more energy for water temperature to lift from 99 degrees to 100 degrees than to reach 99 degress from ambient temperature.
There`s a vast difference between “almost” and “all”; that extra last percent is worth 100 times the 99 that went before.

I spent the weekend swimming with friends off the epic East coast ocean beneath the stars above the rivermouth and at hard to find Honey Bay. Extra thanks to Pete and aqualunged for half an hour to return with crayfish which we all cooked, fresh on the beach fire: an iconic day at the beach…Sleeping on the clifftop above the spit and exploring the startlingly varied coastline of geographical collapse and debris, collecting stunning Abalone shells, plus swimming and cooking al fresco is a great way to recover from the clinical confines of ten days in the studio. Sure there`s a correlation between the rhythmic waves of the ocean and differing states of consciousness. No television, no telephones, no problem – talking to god!

Paua

No man is an island and it`s always great to be involved in a scene, NOT a CLIQUE, a scene.
Cliques are unhealthy, stagnant, dead end waters, tired, old, lugubrious and baleful – they tend to kill off creativity in their own incestuous way. A scene is open. A clique is egotists high on their own smug bullshit.
Ego kills: inexperienced people have to learn the hard way – most have – that you cannot do it all on your own no matter how good you are. Problem is inexperienced people don`t have the objectivity to step aside from their own ego agenda and view the bigger picture. Some hide behind loquacious blaggardry, specious claims of achievement, almost sociopathic tendencies and cetera.

I just had the pleasure of watching Smoke only twelve years too late. If you fancy mixing the intertwining intertextuality of Paul Auster`s genius, the engaging idiosyncrasy of One Flew Over the Cuckoo`s Nest, the cinematography of Down By Law with Mercurial storytelling and superlative acting performance then this one`s for you;baby. If you dig mixing metafictional metaphor with True tales of American Life then, man you`ll dig it the most. Loose identities, shifting nomenclature, fantastic dialogue,  realism & character shine through this film made with stolen cameras and shot by the blind. Harold Perrineau (the awesome Mercutio in Luhrmann`s Romeo And Juliet), Harvey Keitel, William Hurt, Forest Whitaker, Ashley Judd, Stockard Channing & Victor Argo are directed by Wayne Wang and Paul Auster (screenplay).

[click to continue...]