Svastara

[maheem]

Mr. Scruff o muzici, pločama i djingu:

https://www.fuse.tv/videos/2014/04/mr-scruff-crate-diggers

[klimt]

Patrijarh i rokenrol

Патријарх и рокенрол

 

 

Edited February 21, 2021 by klimt

[Lancia]

On April 6, Modern Harmonic will release two never-before-heard Hypnosonics albums: Drums Were Beating: Fort Apache 1996 and Someone Stole My Shoes: Beyond The Q Division Sessions available on CD, LP and digital.

 

 

[ducca]

Kraj za Daft Punk :(

[MocaVukotic]

https://www.superdeluxeedition.com/news/caught-beneath-the-landslide-the-other-side-of-britpop-and-the-90s/

[Gojko & Stojko]

 

 

The Bantam Cock

It was a grand upstanding bantam cock,
So brisk and stiff and spry,
With springy step and jaunty plume
And a purposeful look in his eye,
In his little black blinking eye, he had.

I took him to the coop and introduced him
To my seventeen wide-eyed hens.
He tupped and he tupped as a hero tups
And he bowed from the waist to them all, and then
He upped and he tupped 'em all again, he did.

And then upon the peace of me ducks and me geese
He rudely did intrude.
With glazed eyes and open mouths
They bore it all with fortitude
And a little bit of gratitude, they did.

He jumped my giggling guinea fowl
And forced his attentions upon
My twenty hysterical turkeys and
A visiting migrant swan.
But the bantam thundered on, he did.

He ravished my fan-tailed pigeons and
Me lily-white columbines,
And while I was locking up the budgerigar
He jumped my parrot from behind;
She was sitting on me shoulder at the time.

And all of a sudden with a gasp and a gulp
He clapped his hands to his head,
Fell flat on his back with his toes in the air.
My bantam cock lay dead
And the vultures circled overhead, they did.

What a champion brute; what a noble cock;
What a way to live and to die.
I was digging him a grave to save his bones
From the hungry buzzards in the sky
When the bantam opened up a sly little eye.

He gave me a grin and a terrible wink,
The way that rapists do.
He said, "You see them big daft buggers up there?
They'll be down in a minute or two;
They'll be down in a minute or two".

 

SaE

[I*m with the pilots]

Sedrik i Omar spremaju nesto novo-staro

 

Quote

April 23, 2021 marks the release of La Realidad De Los Sueños, a deluxe, vinyl-only 18-disk box-set collecting together the discography of The Mars Volta, including all six of their studio albums, their debut EP Tremulant, and Landscape Tantrums, a never-before-released first draft of their debut album De-Loused In The Comatorium. These albums have all been out-of-print on vinyl since their initial release, save for haphazard and unauthorised reissues distributed by the band’s former label, Universal, in the last decade, which featured poorly reproduced artwork and sound sourced from compact disc, and were essentially illegal bootlegs. These 180gram vinyl editions – pressed from vinyl lacquers freshly remastered by Clouds Hill’s in-house engineer Chris von Rautenkranz– represent the best way to hear this music as the artists intended. The release marks the first fruit of Clouds Hill’s acquisition of the Rodríguez-Lopéz Productions catalogue, with future releases from the label’s archive to follow.
To celebrate the impending arrival of La Realidad De Los Sueños, I spoke with The Mars Volta’s leader/producer/composer Omar Rodríguez-López and singer/lyricist Cedric Bixler Zavala to discuss the conception and production of the box-set, their struggles to protect their creative legacy from corporate exploitation, their relationship with Clouds Hill, and the discography of challenging, ambitious, emotionally powerful music the box-set encompasses.

 

Poduzi intervju na https://cloudshillrecordings.com/the-mars-volta/

 

Da se podsetimo nekih njihovih genijalnosti

 

 

 

[Indy]

Literarni novitet za ljubitelje The Go-Betweens (konkretno, Lindy Morrison). Eto da neko ispriča žensku (barem 1/2) priču iz The Go-Betweens.

 

"My rock'n'roll friend", autor Tracy Thorn (the Everything But the Girl girl)

 

Prikazi u Guardian-u i Sydney Morning Herald-u...

 

Odlomak...

 

Spoiler

An extract from Tracey Thorn’s My Rock ‘n’ Roll Friend

By Tracey Thorn

 

Lindy is aware from the moment she sits down behind a drum kit that it is transgressive. She has her legs wide apart, like some dude manspreading on the train, and immediately she is taking up more space, invading that of others, staking her claim. It’s indiscreet and immodest. Anyone playing the drums looks cocky, whether or not they have one. She wonders about wearing trousers to preserve her dignity, but then she thinks, ‘F--k that,’ and puts on a skirt, and runs the risk of the audience leering up at the space between her legs, and she either cares about that or she doesn’t.

 

Her hands make fists to grip the sticks. She gets blisters on her palms, on the insides of each finger, until she builds up calluses, her hands losing all softness, all gentleness, and becoming those of a worker. She uses tape, like a boxer, around her knuckles.

She needs strength in her wrists, in her arms and hands, so she buys a grip strengthener, and she sits and squeezes it at night while she’s watching TV. And she needs endurance and stamina so she hits a practice pad, or a pillow, anything that trains her not to rely on the bounce-back energy of the drums. She builds up muscle, her biceps become more defined, her arms strong and sinewy.

 

When she starts hitting the drums, all at once she’s making more noise than anyone else in the room. It’s not ladylike, this noise she’s making. And she’s in charge, whatever the guitarist or the lead singer may think.

 

She’s the one counting “one, two, three, four” to start the song and set the pace. The rest of the band keep to HER time, they move to her beat. If she speeds up or slow down, they have to follow her.

 

She starts playing, and it’s physical, energetic. She gets hot, her hair flies about. Her heart rate increases, she’s breathing hard and she starts to sweat. Then she sweats a bit more. In a hot club, with no ventilation or air conditioning, she really, really sweats. None of this is feminine. None of this is what a woman is supposed to do.

 

And so, there aren’t many women drummers. Think of a number and then halve it. And then again, and again. Then again.

 

Once upon a time, women played the drums. But you have to go back a bit. A long, long way in fact: back before modern pop music, before house and hip hop, before punk and reggae, before glam and prog, before rock’n’roll, before jazz, before the blues.

 

Before the war, and the war before, and the Industrial Revolution, and the whole modern world – back to the ancient world, to the pre-biblical time of goddesses and priestesses, when they were the ones who played hand-held frame drums at rituals and ceremonies, to honour the dead and to bring the living into trance-like states. Avant-garde musician Layne Redmond, in her book When the Drummers Were Women: A Spiritual History of Rhythm, traces the history of women in the ancient civilisations of Mesopotamia, Egypt and Sumer holding and playing drums.

 

She notes that for thousands of years and in various cultures, women were accepted as drummers, but somewhere along the line patriarchal religions took over, narrowing and defining their roles, formulating rules and regulations about what was and was not considered ‘feminine’. Women playing the drums became a transgressive act: abnormal, nonconformist.

 

Layne Redmond herself, in ’90s New York, living in a tenement in Manhattan’s Hell’s Kitchen and working as a waitress, formed a group called the Mob of Angels, who ‘set out to revive the ancient Mediterranean tradition of women’s ceremonial drumming’, performing ritualised musical events involving processions and circles. It was a radical act: women reclaiming the drums, just as they were reclaiming the night and their bodily autonomy.

 

There were pioneers, as in everything women have struggled to do, demanded the right to do, been discouraged from doing. Layne Redmond wanted a drum kit as a teenager, but her parents simply ignored the request. It was considered ridiculous. Of course you don’t want to do that. You’ll have to go against all this preconceived wisdom in order to drum. People will say no to you. Hold out their hand to stop you.

 

Every woman playing the drums has had to really want to. Has had to ignore the word NO. Has had to tell people to F**K OFF.

 

And for women who love rock music, are drawn to it for the same reasons the guys are, it hurts to be rejected by it. As Lindy West writes in her book Shrill, ‘In a certain light, feminism is just the long, slow realisation that the stuff you love hates you.’

 

Lindy was around six feet tall and greyhound slender. She had a wardrobe full of short floaty feminine dresses which she said she wore to act as a counterweight to her macho drumming persona. – Marie Ryan

 

The band’s second album is Before Hollywood and it is Lindy’s golden moment. She shines on it, defines the record, brings to the party all her personality and all her lack of convention.

 

Everyone agrees. Even Robert, who can be caustic about Lindy in later years, writes about the album that ‘Her drum kit sounded fantastic and she rode every queer-timed riff and rolled on every chorus we put to her. Before Hollywood is a master class in creative rock drumming; hers is the distinguishing instrument.’

She loves playing the drums. ‘It’s like dancing,’ she says. Both your feet are working, your hands are always moving, your body is in motion. The strength and power of it makes you feel confident.
 

She knows she’s not the best drummer in the world – she started too late – but she can play dynamically and hold the beat, and she works harder at it than anyone else. She’s a strong believer in the perspiration-not-inspiration school of thought when it comes to art and music.

 

And there’s a lot of perspiration. At the early Go-Betweens gigs, when they’re playing St Kilda in Melbourne, she is sopping wet by the end of the gig, and there is no dressing room for her to change in. So she comes off stage and makes her way to the public toilets, and in a little cubicle, cramped and awkward, she strips off every item of clothing, even her bra, pants and socks, and changes into completely new clothes.

 

In every way she’s an alien, told by men that women can’t rock, and that women in bands just cause trouble, and that she’ll never be any good however much she practises, but this outsider status ends up being part of her definitive style as a drummer.

 

Robert and Grant often unwittingly write songs in weird time signatures, and when they bring these songs to Lindy, she decides to try to reflect or capture honestly the oddities of their structures. She thinks the boys don’t really know how to count their bars, and they have no real sense of timing or rhythm, so it’s left to Lindy to literally drum it into them. She is determined not to ‘play through’ the quirky patterns, and not to straighten them out.

 

She thinks that would be too nice, too boring. Instead, when she is presented with a song like Cattle and Cane, written by Grant with a time signature that she identifies as being ‘an 11-beat phrase’, she preserves all its strangeness, all its distinctiveness.

 

She describes her drumming as providing a kind of counterpoint, rather than a back beat, following the melody in a more lyrical way. The song is lovely in its melodic sweetness, but thanks to Lindy’s drumming it is elevated into something much more elusive – a singular piece of music, impossible to pin down.

 

She hasn’t grown up playing foursquare rock music, hasn’t learnt the rules, so she doesn’t play by them. That doesn’t mean she doesn’t care. In fact she’s passionate about drummers. She loves Hal Blaine, with his simple style punctuated by those dramatic fills, building to grand crescendos. And as much as she loves Wire’s drummer Robert Gotobed, she is a huge fan of Karen Carpenter.

 

In New York in the ’80s, she goes to meet one of her drumming heroes, Gary Chester – ‘a total legend’, she says, who played on hits for Dionne Warwick and The Shangri-Las among many others. They completely click and she ends up having lessons with him via cassette tape.

 

When the band complete the NME‘s ‘Portrait of the Artist as a Consumer’ in 1983, most of the selections are made by Robert and Grant, but Lindy gets to choose her favourite drum tracks, and they are: Jet Black on The Stranglers’ Golden Brown, Ringo Starr on Come Together, Budgie on Typical Girls, Martin Hughes on Robert Wyatt’s Shipbuilding and Tony Thompson on Diana Ross’s Upside Down.

 

But, given that she is such an unusual drummer and contributes so much to lifting the band above the cliches of run-of-the-mill indie bands, when it comes to the writing about them, her drumming is often overlooked.

 

Drumming in general is a low-status role in the world of music. There are endless jokes along the lines of: ‘What d’you call someone who hangs around with musicians? A drummer.’ Lindy knows this, and she’s scathing about it. In a 1987 interview with Company magazine she says of drummers, “they’re a great breed of people who understand what egocentric bastards songwriters are. They also understand everybody else’s instruments, but nobody understands theirs.”

 

The Go-Betweens are one of those bands who are reviewed largely on the strength of their lyrics, as though they have published a volume of poetry rather than made an album. The music is mentioned less often than the words, and the drumming least of all. If writers struggle to write about music, then drumming leaves them stumped.

 

Sometimes the only mention is of what she looks like playing the drums:

‘Lindy, hovering behind the drums like a ghost of some description.’

‘It pays to be pretty. But . . . tonight it’s left to Lindy to bear the burden of Go-Betweens visuals . . .’ ‘Lindy Morrison’s fringe sweeps across her eyes as she lashes out a rhythm.’

 

‘We could watch drummer Lindy Morrison’s blonde hair lifting in the random breeze blowing on stage.’

 

I don’t have to tell you those reviews are all written by men. When you read what another woman has to say about her, the difference is startling. This, for instance, is from an interview with musician Tracy Ellis:

 

Seeing Lindy take her handbag on stage and put it down next to her drum kit was a revelation. It’s hard to imagine how much of a rebellious act that was. This was at the height of pub rock which, while fabulous in many ways, was also absolutely soaked to the gills in testosterone and alcohol and petrol fumes. When she sat in a vintage frock behind a drum kit and played in her own style, you could feel the winds of change blasting from the stage.

 

For me, and other women watching her behind the drums on stage, Lindy’s presence was a revelation. We knew what we were seeing when we looked at her. We knew what it meant.

 

[kurdi]

huh... mene ovo malo umara... ne mogu da zamislim da procitam celu knjigu pisanu ovim tonom/stilom, u trecem licu...

a "prikaze" je cini mise tracy sama napisala?

[Indy]

Jeste (za onaj u Guardianu je očigledno, ali ovaj u SMH je malo čudan... piše u trećem u licu, a piše o samoj sebi.)

[borris_]

If Nirvana's ‘Nevermind’ was performed by 12 different bands - YouTube

 

[Indy]

Ovo je u sferi (muzičke/audiofilske) egzotike, ali naiđoh na zanimljiv članak na RollingStone Italia o tome da Sony prodaje master trake nekih od legendi italijanskih sedamdesetih... PMF, Lucio Battista, Franco Battiato, Lucio Dalla, Fabrizio De André, etc. Naravno, pored 450 eura po komadu, mora se imati i kvalitetan trakaš magnetofon u ispravnom stanju;) (Im'o ja nekad davno...)

 

 

Elem, fanatici sa SteveHoffman foruma su se odmah našli motivisani da o tome pričaju (kako su ovi "masteri" tačno napravljeni?), a neki su pokušali i da nabave trake (mada je izgleda ograničeno na Italiju, mislim da ide kroz Sony Italia.)

 

U stvari, najveća prepreka je (za mene) nemanje trakaša... Umesto sada 1 nemogućeg putovanja (u npr Italiju) taman bi mi leglo par ovih audio-relikvija  

 

 

 

 

[Indy]

PS. I promotivni Sony video (naravno na ital.)

 

 

Sony Italia Legacy Master Tapes

 

 

 

[roksi]

 

[Indy]

Pomalo čudan marketinški potez od strane Deezer-a... (Mislim, čudno je staviti baš Eno-a da prodaje lossless streaming...)

 

 

Experience HiFi Gold by Brian Eno