Jesus Christ this thing was 76 minutes long? How did I manage that?
whoa
that's like
your longest thingy
Actually I think Desert Burner was nearly 2 hours, but that was also more a weird half-assed DJing of desert rock music than it was an album, and I don't think I ever actually put that out for genuinely public consumption, I think I just gave a few copies to people (Solstace among them, if memory serves).
I wish I still had that junky Yamaha keyboard my mom made me throw out a few years ago.
Which junky Yamaha keyboard is it? Because I still have my junky Yamaha keyboard...
Sitting in a closet for nine years wasn't good to it, the sound's all messed-up now unless you listen to it through the headphone jack
I don't remember the make or model. It was a bulky thing my grandma got me for Christmas one year when I was 4 or 5. It predated MIDI integration and things like that so for all practical purposes it was kinda useless, but it had some very nice presets and I liked the way it sounded.
Much of it was sampled from work by ¡parahelion!, an obscure acid-rock band I haven't listened to in years. So if you want something to hunt down, there you go.
Much of it was sampled from work by ¡parahelion!, an obscure acid-rock band I haven't listened to in years. So if you want something to hunt down, there you go.
You are the end result of a “would you push the button” prompt where the prompt was “you have unlimited godlike powers but you appear to all and sundry to be an impetuous child” – Zero, 2022
Micheal Stipe does not mumble. He speaks a forgotten language called Hmbrmese of which he is the only living practitioner after the death of Kurt Cobain. Continued efforts by linguistic scholars to write down as much as is known about the language as possible are frustrated by the fact that Stipe refuses to communicate in any form but indie rock ballads and bird calls.
There used to be an Atlantis but contrary to popular belief it did not sink into the sea. Rather, it was destroyed entirely by the world's largest soccer riot in 882AD when the North Atlantean Crustaceans narrowly pulled out a victory under suspicious circumstances against the South Atlantean Squiddlebiddles.
guitars are composed of three main parts. The body, which is the actual physical structure of the guitar. The soul, where all music truly comes from. And the mind, where Jimi Hendrix lives.
Older models of guitar instead used a guitar bug, a tiny ethereal roachlike creature that would produce chords when provoked.
Look south. Keep looking. There's nothing coming from the north.
Furthermore, if you continue looking south for long enough, you may see surviving UGK member Bun B riding toward the sunset in his purple Cadillac, which he has named Trigger. Bun B rides alone, as no one can truly console him after the death of his partner. The venerable Pimp C.
Furthermore, Micheal Jackson does not actually exist. He was a colony of termites dressed in a human suit, who realized that when they rattled their bodies together, it sounded like sick-ass pop music.
They say that if you say "bloody mary" into a mirror three times while blasting Dr. Dre's weed-rap classic The Chronic a phantom will appear and fill up your plastic cup with an alcoholic beverage of your choice.
Jesus Christ this thing was 76 minutes long? How did I manage that?
The same way that I managed to create a continuous eighty-minute track before figuring out how chord progressions or time signatures worked: Winging it.
Jesus Christ this thing was 76 minutes long? How did I manage that?
The same way that I managed to create a continuous eighty-minute track before figuring out how chord progressions or time signatures worked: Winging it.
most of that album is just meandering stuff.
there's a track consisting entirely of an improperly-looped drum break and static sampled from an episode of Serial Experiments Lain, and little else.
Jesus Christ this thing was 76 minutes long? How did I manage that?
The same way that I managed to create a continuous eighty-minute track before figuring out how chord progressions or time signatures worked: Winging it.
most of that album is just meandering stuff.
there's a track consisting entirely of an improperly-looped drum break and static sampled from an episode of Serial Experiments Lain, and little else.
Ringing a bell for seventy minutes worked for Jordi Vallis. But that's the '80s for you.
Jesus Christ this thing was 76 minutes long? How did I manage that?
The same way that I managed to create a continuous eighty-minute track before figuring out how chord progressions or time signatures worked: Winging it.
most of that album is just meandering stuff.
there's a track consisting entirely of an improperly-looped drum break and static sampled from an episode of Serial Experiments Lain, and little else.
Ringing a bell for seventy minutes worked for Jordi Vallis. But that's the '80s for you.
I don't know who that is.
In any case I still like the album because it's not something I've really done (or even tried to do) since. So that's nice.
I have no desire to return to its sound though.
Now if I could only find a copy of I Found Myself in a Dark Wood and The Lightex Tapes somewhere, I'd have all of my own albums that I like again.
I Found Myself was a tape of live-recorded keyboard noodling. Of little interest to anyone but myself.
The Lightex Tapes was when I had just gotten really into J Dilla and as such it was me halfassedly attempting to copy Donuts, but I ended up with something a bit different (though obviously not as good).
Ringing a bell for seventy minutes worked for Jordi Vallis. But that's the '80s for you.
I don't know who that is.
Vallis is, loosely speaking, an industrial musician; he records under the name Vagina Dentata Organ. One of his albums, The Great Masturbator (named after a Dalí painting), is literally fifty minutes (not seventy, sorry) of Vallis ringing a church bell over and over. It's supposed to be a kind of conceptual statement, as well as a meditation tool.
Ringing a bell for seventy minutes worked for Jordi Vallis. But that's the '80s for you.
I don't know who that is.
Vallis is, loosely speaking, an industrial musician; he records under the name Vagina Dentata Organ. One of his albums, The Great Masturbator (named after a Dalí painting), is literally fifty minutes (not seventy, sorry) of Vallis ringing a church bell over and over. It's supposed to be a kind of conceptual statement, as well as a meditation tool.
*shrug*
I wouldn't listen to it but whatever floats his boat I guess.
also! I found this
I'm amazed how it's mostly in sync out of pure coincidence.
Comments
FLUFFYCAT
OMNIBUS
HATTERGUY
How does it feel
To be without a home
Like a complete unknown
Like a rolling stone ?
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
this song is absurdly silly
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
I'm T.S. Elliot with less compunctions about eating meat. And even more reasons to steal from people.
Older models of guitar instead used a guitar bug, a tiny ethereal roachlike creature that would produce chords when provoked.
Furthermore, if you continue looking south for long enough, you may see surviving UGK member Bun B riding toward the sunset in his purple Cadillac, which he has named Trigger. Bun B rides alone, as no one can truly console him after the death of his partner. The venerable Pimp C.
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
there's a track consisting entirely of an improperly-looped drum break and static sampled from an episode of Serial Experiments Lain, and little else.
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
In any case I still like the album because it's not something I've really done (or even tried to do) since. So that's nice.
I have no desire to return to its sound though.
Now if I could only find a copy of I Found Myself in a Dark Wood and The Lightex Tapes somewhere, I'd have all of my own albums that I like again.
The Lightex Tapes was when I had just gotten really into J Dilla and as such it was me halfassedly attempting to copy Donuts, but I ended up with something a bit different (though obviously not as good).
also that thing
I wouldn't listen to it but whatever floats his boat I guess.
also! I found this
I'm amazed how it's mostly in sync out of pure coincidence.