onedreamrush

So.................
Kiwi vodka company 42Below arranged 42 of the world's "best" directors and ordered them to make 42 second shorts. A lot of them are seriously uninspired - like trailers for Photoshop 0.63 made by deviantART users, (Ouch.) but thankfully David Lynch and Harmony Korine are on hand with their snappy efforts. Larry Clark did one too but i cudn faand it.

I like Korine's loads - it's like a baby (lol) -sized partner piece to his latest, Trash Humpers. Lynch's, as a witty youtube commenter suggested, is more Monty Python than Mulholland Drive. Neither pieces are like WOAHH SHHHHIIIIIIITTT, but I love the idea that both directors have sketched on a super-small scale - like a film version of Picasso's doodles on restaurant napkins.

pocahaunted

Oo. Strange strangers. Pocahaunted. Like Cocteau Twins in a very odd hospital coridoor. Meant to write about these for ages but i dun it now. Falling in love's pretty easy.

Listen ~ Pocahaunted - All Of Is Of

weird era /blondes

Manchester's Weird Era are communicating something to me as I eat my kimchi noodles and look out at the midlands-y rain. Recalling Mr. That Ghost in terms of production, but with a Moose-y quality, it's the kind of stuff that makes me go 'oh yeah, that's good.' I'm trying to avoid giving any disparate references today - don't you hate it when music bloggers do that? Like "it sounds like if an early City Warfare covered Sang Sang Sang in the early 1600's under a marquee". I fuckin' hate music bloggers.

Listen ~ Weird Era - Ghost



Woah, a titty! I wonder if this gal minds being published on blogs. BLONDESSS are a trance-ridden little hypnotiser band of disco drapery. They take me elsewhere with they beats. Delicately measured minimalism ensures a good night's sex.

Listen ~ Blondes - Moondance

story timeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

Richard walks into the room wearing a blue shirt.

Sarah lies on the bed, wearing faded blue jeans. She looks up.

‘You should knock.’ she says. She smiles.

Richard stares across the room at her. John turns around from the desk and looks at Richard. Richard looks at him. John turns around.

Sarah puts a magazine down on the bed. ‘You okay?’ she asks.

There is a shout from outside the window.

‘Okay?’ she asks.

‘No, I’m fine.’ Richard says suddenly. There is a chair adjacent to the bed. He walks across the room and sits on the chair.

‘What’s the plan for tonight?’ Sarah asks.

‘We’re going ghost hunting if you want to come.’ he says.

‘Yeah, I’m up for it.’ she says.

John shakes his head slowly.

Sarah looks at the back of his head. She almost scowls.

Richard wears black shoes. He looks at her. He clasps his hands. ‘Have you got much done today?’ he asks, smiling.

‘No, not really.’ she says. She smiles. She has ash blonde hair. ‘Have you?’ she asks.

‘No.’ he says. He almost giggles.

John imagines picking him up. John imagines picking him up and slicing. John imagines picking him up and slicing along his spine. John imagines picking him up and slicing along his spine like a cow carcass.

‘Are you gay, Richard?’ John asks.

‘No, man. I’m not gay.’ he says. ‘Why? Do you want cock?’

Sarah giggles in the background.

‘Some girl said you were gay.’ John says.

‘No, I’m not gay.’ Richard says. He scratches his head. He has long hair. ‘Hey John boy – do you wanna come ghost hunting?’

‘I don’t believe in ghosts, dude.’ John says.

Richard feels he is being sympathetic.

‘If I come, he’ll come.’ Sarah says. ‘That’s the way it is.’

Richard looks at her and nods.

~

It is dark outside. The trees bend in the wind. A girl walks through the darkness. Her hair moves in the wind. She imagines how a man might start talking to her. She imagines the way his voice would change. She puts her bag down and takes out her keys.

It is dark outside. There is a shout from outside the window. Sarah turns around from the window and looks at John.

‘Are you ready?’ she asks.

John lets the sentence hang. He feels comfortable in the room, with Sarah. Although we rarely talk in here, he thinks, at least she can’t talk to anyone else.

‘Yeah.’ he says.

She smiles weakly and nods. She turns back to the window.

John looks at her body. She leans into the window diagonally. She wears clear, black tights and a grey pencil skirt. She wears an olive cardigan over a pale yellow shirt. On her shirt there is a print of a boy playing in a mountain of shit.

John looks at her bottom. He remembers all the times he has looked at that bottom as her elbows get grazed on the carpet.

‘Richard’s outside.’ she says. ‘Let’s go.’

She turns in her muddy shoes and walks out the door.

~

Richard is speeding. It is dark.

Metal plays.

‘Where are we going then?’ Sarah asks, quietly.

Richard leans to his left. Sarah speaks into his ear.

‘Wait and see.’ Richard says.

John lights a cigarette. The windows are open. The smoke moves violently around the car.

~

Richard parks the car at the side of the road. They get out. Richard lights a cigarette.

‘I’m just going to piss.’ Sarah says.

The men nod.

They stare out at the fields. There is a forest at the side of the fields. It is dark. The wind blows.

‘Looks pretty dark in there.’ John says. His voice sounds distant.

A tree next to the car looks twisted.

Richard coughs. ‘Yeah.’ he says.

They stare out at the fields. John looks to his right. He looks along the road. He can’t see the end.

It is almost completely silent.

Richard puts his hand in the pocket of his plaid shirt. ‘Do you wanna cigarette John boy?’ he asks, absently.

John feels he is depressed.

‘Yeah.’ John says. ‘Thanks.’

The flame lights up their faces, briefly.

Sarah walks across the road. She opens her mouth excitedly.

‘Let’s go.’ Richard says.

Sarah smiles.

They walk along the edge of the road.

‘What were we talking about?’ Sarah asks.

‘Not sure.’ Richard says. He exhales. Smoke trails in the darkness.

‘What music do you like?’ Sarah asks.

‘Anything.’ Richard says. ‘Whatever. I don’t really think about it.’

‘Think we’ll see any ghosts tonight?’ Sarah asks.

Richard exhales. ‘I think there’s one behind us.’

John remembers a time when he would cry at such an insult. His eyes are slightly wet from the wind.

They walk in-between the trees and into the forest. The trees grow closely together. They walk around an oak tree. Richard steps over its large roots. Sarah and John walk on the roots.

‘There’s a good spot up here.’ Richard says. ‘I do believe in ghosts.’

There is a clearing. Four logs are placed in the leaves, in the shape of a diamond.

They sit on the logs. Richard puts out his cigarette in the leaves. He takes out a bag and a key. He puts his head down slightly. His hair covers his face as he snorts. He pinches his nose.

John thinks about pigs.

Richard passes the bag to Sarah, and then the key. She puts her head down slightly. Her hair covers her face as she snorts, quietly. She pinches her nose.
Sarah passes the bag to John, smiling weakly.

John looks at her nose. He feels it is perfect. Sarah passes him the key. He puts his head down slightly. He snorts loudly, almost angrily. He passes the bag back to Richard and smiles. He passes the key back and lights a cigarette.

John passes his cigarette to Sarah. He feels almost pleased, now. He sits there. He feels that whatever Sarah and Richard do is fine.

Sarah passes the cigarette to Richard. Richard nods at John. ‘Thanks John boy.’ he says.

Sarah plays with her hair.

An owl calls.

Sarah readjusts her cardigan.

The light is blue. The silhouettes of trees are black. It is dark. It is dark. The forest is dense. The trees are thin.

John watches Richard look into her eyes. After a while, he does kiss her.

John looks down at the leaves.

When he looks up they are gone.

John stands up. He feels a chill. He looks around him. The forest is dense. The trees are thin. He thinks of ghosts.

He hears a sound.

He hears a loud crackling. He hears a loud crackling in the darkness.

He walks into the forest. The light is blue. The silhouettes of trees are black. It is dark.

Thunder drones in the distance.

weed diamond / trailer trash tracys

Colorado's Weed Diamond presents an eclectic and refreshingly spread-out mix of tunes in need of a scrub - veering from slimy shoegaze to backgrond ballads and BeeGees covers. There's a full-length out (Sweater Kids on Mirror Universe Tapes). I've selected the former drawn-out delicious yawn of a track - 'Stevie wonder is TOO HIGH'. He fucking is.

Listen ~ Weed Diamond - stevie wonder is TOO HIGH














BIT SLOW ON THE UPTAKE HERE but Trailer Trash Tracys are probably the most bankable crossover poor fidelity/oh actually! London act there is going. They have a refreshingly spacial sound that doesn't shy away from a bit of damaged silk. What I mean by this is that the (Susanne Aztoria'ssss) vocals are creamy and lovely. Like quite a lot lovely. Like an angel exhaling smoke.

'Candy Girl' is oddly nostalgic - the bass sounds like the Twin Peaks theme, the drums sound like that J&MC tune at the end of that Sophia Coppola movie. These aren't bad things of course, as they merely provide the skeleton for the lovely flesh to hang off.

Listen ~ Trailer Trash Tracys - Candy Girl

vivian girls - when i'm gone

New-ish polished (too polished?) vid from tha viv's.

dj screw - inside lookin out (chopped & screwed)

cough cool

Here's a treat from Pennsylvania's Cough Cool. It's an immediate, lethargic, droned-out number that recalls Trudgers' excellent midnight pulser, 'Dream Building', which no joke, got me through a long essay about T.S.Eliot. 'Flower Reading' is a refreshingly dark and looming tune, miles away from the chirpy simplicity of much guitar-based jams these days. Although, 'Roxette' proves there is still much mileage in some shreddage.

Also, I'm at uni at the moment - this is why not many updates. DON'T FUCKING COMPLAIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


Listen ~ Cough Cool - Flower Reading

turner prize 09 fo' shizzle!

Enrico David
My heart sank when I first saw Enrico David's work. There's a super-snotty, measured, illustratively cool quality to his gouaches for sure, but his sculpture is terrible. Looking at the [hi! I'm surreal and also postmodern!] 3d work feels like being told a Steven Hawking joke like it's something new. It's really really boring and really really old and not funny.

Richard Wright
Richard Wright's work is much more refreshing. He paints intricate optic patterns on the walls of the gallery in gold leaf. I think I like the implied narrative here best - the idea that the artist was present in each room for a significant amount of time. It's also enjoyable to see something so hopelessly fleeting and unsaleable. Plus his titles are playfully formal - Untitled, No Title, Not Titled. I'm easily pleased.

Roger Hiorns
Roger Hiorns is probably the most discussable artist, as his 2008 installation, Siezure involved the incredible (yet not forgetting, very Rachel Whiteread) tactic of filling an abandoned south London flat in copper sulphate in order to encrust the entire location with breathtaking crystals. The title is gorgeous, and the piece is clearly moving in its complex physicality, its frozen, natural process. He's a young dude, and is very modern. Like, painfully, crisply, cold morning-ly modern. He'll probably win it.

Lucy Skaer
The only chick on the list is a refreshingly back-to-basics sculptor and sketcher. Her work reminds me massively of Richard Long. A lot of people have talked about the metafictional qualities of her work, which is clearly apparent (Black Alphabet is 26 duplicate sculptures of Brancusi's Bird in Space made from compressed coal dust) but I find the deliberate, bitter monochrome of her work to be quite naturalistic. It's the right side of postmodern and actually the right side of retro for once, as it pays its homage with sincerity.

some cosmic musical predictions

2010 - 2012
Salem and time-stretched space-driven minimalist beats reign supreme. Wonkiness also makes a subtle but valuable appearance. D.I.Y. releases become way more frequent. La Roux dies in a car crash.

2013-2015
'The new silent generation' gradually begin to re-explore nu-metal and later nu-rave as a nostalgic source. People wear those massive curtain jeans for a while. I know.

2016-2017
There is a brief new British invasion in the states, but this falls flat because it is shit. Music becomes fully culturally integrated. Ragga and shoegaze. Music critics look back to 'the golden age of crunk' with nostalgia. Dubstep is indeciferable code.

2018-2019
A new genre quivers on the horizon, as big as punk or hip hop. It looks like a circle and sounds like a square. Everyone wears wrapping paper as it is the new fashion. Drill 'n' Bass has an unexpected resurgence. Andrew Lloyd Webber cuts his dick off in a live performance.