Guts

*** 

Anomaly

***

 

 

Red Dust Wakes (Sandstorm)

***

 

 Boats Caught in a Whirlpool

***

Sunset Song

 ***

 

Fiery sky, autumnal passing

Waning wings, ghostly echo... 

Gone.

All the birds are gone now. Farewell, then.

Farewell then to this; 

this sad, cracked,

and broken kaleidoscope

 CHLOE...

In Atoms

***

 

"Daft Punk is Playing at My House" without the physical presence of Daft Punk

 ***

 

LCD Soundsystem's "Daft Punk is Playing at My House" (2005) is a catchy song. Its infectious and energetic blend of dance-punk and electronic elements creates an almost irresistible groove compelling listeners to move. The song's catchy lyrics, delivered with James Murphy's charismatic vocals, add a playful and memorable quality, making it a standout track that resonates with fans across various music genres.

Without thinking about the song terribly hard, it seems patently obvious that it can be enjoyed independently of the actual physical presence of the music group Daft Punk. And yet the seemingly innocuous notion of Daft Punk without Daft Punk points toward an interesting philosophical problem in the realm of aesthetics. In particular, this scenario can be related to Walter Benjamin's concept of aura and his ideas on the reproduction of art.

Walter Benjamin, in his seminal essay, "The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction" (1935) posits that the aura of an artwork is inexorably tied to its uniqueness and authenticity, a quality that he argues is eroded through mechanical reproduction. Applying this framework to music, particularly live performances, Benjamin's theory might suggest that the live experience of Daft Punk playing at someone's house possesses a distinct aura derived from the singular temporality, spatiality, and the authenticity of presence.

The analogy with LCD Soundsystem's rendition introduces the element of reproduction. In this case, the musical piece becomes a reproduction of the original event. Benjamin's theory would anticipate a reduction in the aura, as the unique context of the live performance is seemingly lost in the mechanical reproduction of the song. However, a critical examination is warranted.

Music, as an art form, exhibits unique characteristics that challenge Benjamin's framework. Unlike a visual artwork, a musical piece is inherently temporal and dynamic. The recorded version of a song, while a reproduction, encapsulates its own distinct aura. LCD Soundsystem's interpretation, musical nuances, and production choices infuse the piece with a new layer of authenticity. The listener's experience is shaped not only by the original live event but also by the act of listening itself.

Drawing on Benjamin's contemporary, Theodor Adorno, who explored the unique authenticity within the realm of music, one could argue that each performance and interpretation carries its own aura. The "aura" of LCD Soundsystem's rendition emerges not as a mere replica but as a product of the artistic process, a reinterpretation that maintains a connection to the aura of the original while establishing its own artistic authenticity.

In critiquing Benjamin, one might contend that music, with its inherent ephemeral, interpretative nature, presents a significant challenge to the notion of aura's inevitable decay through reproduction. The enjoyment of "Daft Punk is Playing at My House" without Daft Punk's physical presence is not necessarily a dilution of aura but rather a testament to the resilience and adaptability of musical authenticity across various modes of reproduction and interpretation.

Dance on.

 

 Walter Benjamin

 

 Sea Monster 

***

DOTS

****

 

Indifferent Sky's Child

 

 ***

Midnight whispers weave twain icy pines, 

A hunger awakens, as sky's darkness aligns.

The creature emerges with antlers so high,

A ghastly visage under the winter sky.

 

Amidst the snow-laden trees, its presence does wend,

 A spectral figure, where all life meets its end.

 With antlers like branches, and eyes dark as coal,

 It stalks through the night, consuming its toll.

 

But as dawn breaks, a faint glimmer of light, 

The horror retreats, vanishing from sight.

 Leaving behind a trail of fear and of dread,

 In depths of forest, where lost souls have fled.

 

 Into the Maelstrom

***

 

The horizon undulated like a slumbering giant.

The ship plunged into the tumult, caught in a furious dance of black waves.

Sea slammed against the hull, a relentless assault. Metallic groans of strained wood and metal. 

The crew, faces pale in the sickly glow of the storm, like ghosts, clung in desperation. Faces etched with terror, their countenances ghastly illuminated by lightning's cruel flashes. Rain lashed, the deck bucked, and the metallic taste of salt lingered. 

A rogue wave loomed, plunging the crew into a heart-stopping descent. Fear-stricken faces gripped the ship's timeworn edges, clinging to reality as the storm's wrath engulfed them.

And then it hit them.

Eruption

***

Where horizon kisses day's end, a slumbering colossus stirs. 

Whispered tremor, ancient sigh, ruptures calm facade. 

Waking fissures, fiery dance, molten beauty untamed.

 

 

 If I Were a Spider

***

Silken threads we weave,

Sacrifice in nature's dance,

Sup upon my soul.

 Redder

***

For those interested in juxtaposition of sound and image, the album cover to King Crimson's "Red" makes for an interesting case.

While the cover may not have an especially elaborate artistic design, the photograph itself holds significance. The stark and individualized poses of the band members, not a single picture, but a composite taken from three distinct photos, symbolizes the internal dynamics and distinct musical contributions each member brings to the album. The black and white aesthetic evokes a sense of simplicity, honesty, and above all, a rawness that aligns with the experimental and progressive nature of the music on the album.

Symbolism also lies in the direct representation of the musicians themselves as a whole, yet apart. The collage image underscores the collaborative yet individualistic spirit that defines the album "Red." The cover invites listeners to connect with the personalities behind the music, offering a more personal and intimate perspective on the artists and their creative process.

Seeing Red

***

 

 

King Crimson's album "Red" stands as a masterpiece in the progressive rock genre, showcasing  unparalleled musicianship and an innovative approach to music. Released in 1974, "Red" marked the end of an era for King Crimson, featuring a power trio lineup with guitarist Robert Fripp, bassist and vocalist John Wetton, and drummer Bill Bruford. 

The title track, "Red," is a sonic tour de force, characterized by Fripp's intense and intricate guitar work, Wetton's commanding vocals, and Bruford's dynamic drumming. The album seamlessly blends elements of jazz, rock, and classical music, creating a complex and immersive listening experience. The instrumental track "Starless" is a highlight, with its haunting melodies and a breathtaking buildup that culminates in a powerful climax. "Red" is often celebrated for its dark and experimental sound, pushing the boundaries of conventional rock music. 

For those craving a musical experience that transcends the ordinary, "Red" is a must-listen. Its enduring influence on subsequent generations of musicians and its status as a progressive rock cornerstone make it an essential addition to any playlist. Don't just read about it—immerse yourself in the extraordinary sounds of "Red" and discover the timeless brilliance that continues to captivate audiences to this day.

 Reasons to Enjoy "Give Me a Reason"

 ***

Immersed in the dimly lit ambiance of a goth-themed music night, I recently found myself captivated by the hypnotic, ethereal allure of the track "Give Me a Reason" by Boy Harsher. The venue, adorned with glitzy lights and gothic aesthetics, served as the perfect backdrop for an experience where dancers seamlessly merged with the haunting melodies. As the opening notes of the track reverberated through the space, a transformative energy enveloped the dance floor, and the boundaries between the dancers and the music dissipated.

The hypnotic pulse of the electronic beats seemed to synchronize with the rhythmic movements of the crowd, creating a symbiotic relationship between the auditory and the corporeal. The haunting synthesizers and the evocative vocals of Jae Matthews resonated with a magnetic force, casting a spell that drew the participants into a collective trance. It became a conduit through which the dancers expressed and communed.

This immersive experience prompted deeper reflection into the intricacies of "Give Me a Reason" and its contribution to the dark electronic landscape. Its adept use of musical elements, combined with thematic cohesion and immersive qualities, contributes significantly to the evolving discourse within the darkwave and synth-pop genres.

The composition exhibits a nuanced amalgamation of musical elements, deftly weaving minor scales inherent in darkwave aesthetics to establish a tonal foundation steeped in melancholy. The deliberate application of dissonant notes and harmonic progressions contributes to the atmospheric density, captivating the listener through its emotive resonance.

The catchiness of the track is further illuminated by its meticulous arrangement, striking a delicate balance between minimalism and complexity. Noteworthy is the interplay between vocal delivery, spearheaded by Jae Matthews' evocative, ghost-like performance, and electronic instrumentation. Sustained notes serve as poignant motifs, fostering a drone like, repetitious thematic continuity throughout the composition. The repetition of the titular phrase, "Give me a reason," acts as a leitmotif, reinforcing the thematic coherence and engaging the listener in a cyclical emotive experience.

 

Photography by Courtney Brooke   

I heartily recommend readers explore "Give Me a Reason," and with more caution, encourage them to view the short film The Runner (2022) directed by Boy Harsher's Jae Matthews and Augustus 'Gus' Muller. The track is sublime. The film, despite its imperfections, provides a compelling viewing opportunity for those intrigued by the intersection of music and visual storytelling.

Iceberg

***

Glacial giant floats, 

Hidden depths in frozen dance, 

Silent tales below.

 

 

Trireme

***

In Athens' desolation, shipwright Callias feverishly worked. Spartan forces loomed. His hammer echoed despair, each plank resonating with the city's cries, a haunting symphony. Fear of Lysander's approach drove Callias to exhaustion, and in delirium, Hermes beckoned. 

 

 

 Light Shines

 

 ***

 

No dusk can dim vibrant cheer,

No memory any cause to fear. 

Eternal sunshine, mind's free play, 

joys twixt time forever sway.

 

 

 

 

 

Sun Song (To William Blake)

***

O, sun, laughing in my window-pane:

 Please marry the tangible to the arcane, 

And kindly close the separate and the between

and, if you could, 

shine indelible light on the unseen.   

 

 Double

 ****

He fled his doppelgänger. To far places he sought refuge, always denied by the pursuit of his spectral twin. 

After years of fruitless escape, he at last reached a perilous slope. The sky bled red.

His double lingered close behind, a silent challenge etched in shadow.

At the edge, escape denied, he stared into the abyss below. The vermilion sky whispered the futility of his flight. 

He suddenly realized. In fleeing his double, he had forsaken his true self. Evading imitation, he forsook essence. 

He sighed. And then he leapt.

 

 

 MAD CRY OF A DEVIL-CAPTIVE

 ***

 

 

Roaring heights, conjurer's desire, 

Captive mystery, salamandrine lyre. 

Haunted river, timeless flow, 

Laughing dreams, secrets aglow.

 

Secret

***

Swaying clay, living hues; Time whispers, tumescent canvas.

Sojourner gasps, lives-end fuse; Atlas' essence anxious.

 

False Compact

***

The pentagram howled as the occultist completed the ritual. In a surge of smoke, the demon materialized, red eyes gleaming and adroit. Twisted lips curled into an unnaturally wide grin, revealing sharp teeth that suggested an inhuman hunger.

The summoner, triumphant for but a moment, quickly felt a bone-chilling dread. The demon's eerie smile hinted at a malevolent intelligence. With a voice that was not a voice, the creature promised power.

Compact made, the demon's grin widened, leaving the summoner paralyzed with terror.

The room quivered with malevolent energy, and the shadows seemed to converge upon the summoner's trembling form. The demon's eyes glowed brighter as it fed on the summoner's fear, absorbing their very soul. A ghastly scream pierced the air.

The magician's life force withered like a neglected flower. His body crumpled to the ground, a lifeless husk.

The demon, eerie smile aglow, ascended in a vortex of shadow and pale fire, leaving the lifeless summoner in its wake.

 Strix

***

The trespasser, ill-gotten gains in both hands, stumbled greedily into the woods. 

Shadows coiled, and the air thickened with malice. The Strix emerged. Long gray hair. Naked. Wild.

Her gaze burned like fire.

No words. Roots, like vengeful serpents, snaked from the earth, squeezing breath from lungs. Wide-eyed, the intruder writhed in soundless agony, silver cup and gold coins strewn haphazardly. 

The witch-demon retreated into the night, which, now unusually chill, was reminiscent of an icy, warm cocoon within a sepulcher of snow.

 

 Lizard of the River

 ***

Moonlight cast silver ripples on the still dark water. A lone figure trudged past, oblivious to the swamp's lurking danger. 

Suddenly, a guttural growl shattered the silence. The murky abyss churned as a crocodile surged forth. Razor teeth clamped down, seizing the hapless wanderer's leg. Terror flashed in his eyes, wide with shock. He writhed in the jaws, muffled gasps desperate and haunting. The beast's eyes glimmered with a feral hunger, and darkness swallowed the echoes of his screams.

 Under Moon

***

Under moon, siren's art, 

Silken word, gentle start. 

 

Eyes aflame, silent plea, 

Drawn together, wild, free.

 

Whispers soft, secret play, 

Restless night, emotions sway. 

 

Lone way, fate's circumstance, 

Melted souls, restive trance.

 Cold - Haiku

***

Darkness, snow's warm bed, Embraced, 

O, silent descent, 

Chill claims life's echo.

 Cold

***

He stumbled through the frozen landscape, a mere shadow in amid white. His breath hung in the air, each exhale a desperate plea. Layers of clothing clung to his skin, damp and suffocating, an embrace turned traitorous.

The wind lashed at his face, chipping away at the last vestiges of warmth. His steps faltered, each heavier than the last, as the ground beneath him grew heavier, more unforgiving. The silence of the night was broken only by the hollow crunch of snow underfoot, a cruel reminder of his isolation.

His fingers, once agile, now moved like frozen claws, unable to grasp the significance of the battered bundle he clutched. The flickering light of a distant shelter teased him, a mirage that danced just beyond reach. It pulsed like a desperate heartbeat, each flicker echoing his fading pulse.

As the numbing cold insinuated its way into his very bones, his movements became disjointed, as if stumbling away from an unseen assailant. His eyes, wide with terror, scanned the horizon. The world around him blurred into a distorted nightmare, a phantasmagoria of white and black closing in.

A profound weariness consumed him, and he collapsed to his knees. The snow beneath him offered no solace, only a frigid cradle for his inevitable demise. His breaths, once defiant, now wheezed out like a mournful dirge, dissipating into the icy void.

His gaze settled on the distant light. The shelter, once a haven, now seemed like a malevolent specter, a false promise of warmth. 

Darkness, a final shroud, consumed him. His shallow breathing at length ceased, and a haunting stillness permeated the icy night.