A two-fer today, as i've been seeing boatloads of amazing music, and i happen to have a computer in front of me.
Received a last minute message from Million Brazillions, wondering if we would be able to host a show over here at Goat's Head Manor. The notice was short, and we were not able to comply, but thankfully they got it together, and did it at their place instead, a magickal spot in NE Portland sometimes known as the House of Good Spirits (H.O.G.S.). The line-up was 3 moons (Jeffrey from Fake Hospital), Baronic Wall, Harsh Niar, and Smoke on the Water.
Jeffrey is a new friend of mine, and is totally kicking out some sweet music these days. Interesting ideas, interesting textures, messy and cheap, just the way i like it. Last night, he was playing a battered classical guitar, through a spaghetti array of effects; singing through a microphone that looked like a guitar pick-up, that gave a cool cracked transistor radio effect, slathered in delay and echo. For some reason, i kept thinking of Jandek, although this music was much more colorful. Sort of like the cover for Ready for the House, put on a paint spinner.
Baronic Wall up next, who was having a barrage of technical complications. I listened to his wall of guitar noise through the wall of the house, having a fascinating conversation with Suzanne from White Gourd (mentioned previously), about embodying the major tarot arcana.
Harsh Niar, is Sewn Leather playing with a guitar player. Sewn Leather makes a distinctive cassette stomp, gnarled and trashy in the best possible way, playing tape loops through a ghetto blaster that looks like he got it from Chris Carter off of Ebay, and doing vocals over top, also through a barrage of cheap FX. He has made trashy cheap homemade into an art-form, almost a dogma, an aesthetic, that is not replicable by digital processors. He is waving his freak flag high, and i truly get the sense that he DOES NOT GIVE A FUCK. I like that. I also like his sounds. The beats crunch in just the right way, blasting off the cassettes, and he looked and sounded tremendous in this funky living room, with a giant stuffed bear and python in the corner.
Finally, Smoke on the Water, where some dude sat on stage and let a Gibson guitar feedback while he took gravity bong rips from a Nancy's yogurt container, while he occasionally played the 7 notes from Smoke on the Water. It turned into a test of wills, as he played for 20-30 minutes, and the obstinate noise freak in me was activated. I can outlast ANY performance artist. I have listened to 24 hours of Throbbing Gristle. I looked through their stellar VHS collection. I listened to the feedback. I'm pretty sure i caught a contact high.
I am so tremendously excited to be living here, to be meeting adventurous musicians and artists and metaphysicians. Not only am i meeting so many inspiring people, they are friendly! There is a sense of inclusion, here, or maybe i've surpassed some test in myself, that has made my artistic aspiration go from being distant pipe dreams to a burning napalm core of every breath that i take.
Thanks to all the awesome bands, the awesome house, the awesome dog Ratchet. Thanks to my new friends. Thanks to the city of Portland, and the unexpected sunlight today.
Jeffrey is a new friend of mine, and is totally kicking out some sweet music these days. Interesting ideas, interesting textures, messy and cheap, just the way i like it. Last night, he was playing a battered classical guitar, through a spaghetti array of effects; singing through a microphone that looked like a guitar pick-up, that gave a cool cracked transistor radio effect, slathered in delay and echo. For some reason, i kept thinking of Jandek, although this music was much more colorful. Sort of like the cover for Ready for the House, put on a paint spinner.
Baronic Wall up next, who was having a barrage of technical complications. I listened to his wall of guitar noise through the wall of the house, having a fascinating conversation with Suzanne from White Gourd (mentioned previously), about embodying the major tarot arcana.
Harsh Niar, is Sewn Leather playing with a guitar player. Sewn Leather makes a distinctive cassette stomp, gnarled and trashy in the best possible way, playing tape loops through a ghetto blaster that looks like he got it from Chris Carter off of Ebay, and doing vocals over top, also through a barrage of cheap FX. He has made trashy cheap homemade into an art-form, almost a dogma, an aesthetic, that is not replicable by digital processors. He is waving his freak flag high, and i truly get the sense that he DOES NOT GIVE A FUCK. I like that. I also like his sounds. The beats crunch in just the right way, blasting off the cassettes, and he looked and sounded tremendous in this funky living room, with a giant stuffed bear and python in the corner.
Finally, Smoke on the Water, where some dude sat on stage and let a Gibson guitar feedback while he took gravity bong rips from a Nancy's yogurt container, while he occasionally played the 7 notes from Smoke on the Water. It turned into a test of wills, as he played for 20-30 minutes, and the obstinate noise freak in me was activated. I can outlast ANY performance artist. I have listened to 24 hours of Throbbing Gristle. I looked through their stellar VHS collection. I listened to the feedback. I'm pretty sure i caught a contact high.
I am so tremendously excited to be living here, to be meeting adventurous musicians and artists and metaphysicians. Not only am i meeting so many inspiring people, they are friendly! There is a sense of inclusion, here, or maybe i've surpassed some test in myself, that has made my artistic aspiration go from being distant pipe dreams to a burning napalm core of every breath that i take.
Thanks to all the awesome bands, the awesome house, the awesome dog Ratchet. Thanks to my new friends. Thanks to the city of Portland, and the unexpected sunlight today.
No comments:
Post a Comment