Thursday, March 25, 2010 coverage

No Rest was one of a number of featured South African artist MP3's on last week.

What they said:

"Reclusive singer songwriter gives avant-folk rock fans their fix with this abstract impressionist guitar and thumb-piano filtered tone poem off his bewitching debut solo album, Outer Tumbolia."

I guess I need to get out more!

Sunday, March 21, 2010

Super Legs

Super Legs

I've got super legs
On super feet
They take me where
I need to be

And all my teeth
They talk to me
Tell me to 'shush!'
And when to speak

But there are secrets
That they keep
Well that would be
The genius of teeth

Sunday, March 14, 2010


Being somewhat on the periphery in terms of involvement on a project involving shadow puppetry,

Blackmilk Music video for 'Kimono Dragon'

and then to a lesser extent on one involving the proto-stop-animation of a mutoscope,

'Girl & Rabbit' short film

I think I can take part in the collective slapping of palm on forehead after seeing this beautiful marriage of the two concepts into something delightfully original and bewitching.

Dialogue by Kumi Yamashita 1999 Light, Motor, Styrene, Shadow

Although strictly speaking not constructed as flip-books, I can't help imagining an asynchronous flipping of these 60 installations would make for a wonderful aleatoric ambient soundtrack somewhat akin to György Ligeti's Poème Symphonique For 100 Metronomes.

Speaking of ambient soundtracks, watching these anonymous profiles baring their most intimate secrets keeps reminding me of the misheard whispers of Robert Ashley's Automatic Writing

Sunday, March 7, 2010

Dead Brine

Dead brine,
You know I need it

A rich wine
From a lake I brewed it

Crushed the 'rushes
And the mud
And the sick of the ducks
And the tears that I get
When the words come out

I tilled it, father
And I muddled it, mother
We're not getting any younger
No you don't
No you don't

Oh black basin
To quiet things down
It precedes conversation
On the things that matter
So I take some with me
In a flask for drinking
But the dead floats upwards
It's what my lips are kissing

I tilled it, father
And I muddled it, mother
We're not getting any younger
No you don't
No you don't

On and on
I took to swimming through
On and on (the sentry)
Pulled me back to shore
It's a deeper well
It's a sad farewell

(I paint a picture 'cos it's real)
On and on
(I choose a fiction 'cos it's fair)
On and on
Why don't you sing me something
Just a tune then we're something
Or just a word.