I wrote this and intended to send it to Benji, but then I figured it would be more appropriate to post it here. This way, I have a chance to entice you to do what I did today - - - or didn’t do - - - to acquire and discover Corridors of Mirrors as soon as humanly possible…
Holy fucking Mother of GOd, Benji. So you see, I made all these crazy fun plans this week-end, while I should be studying, but all I really want to do is stare at a fucking wall. So, after a very relaxed, distracted and slow morning, mildly struggling to tear myself away from the comfort of my house, and of the company of my housemate who fed me Jamaican Christmas cake, and Mexican-chocolate-mocha -macchiato /Turkish coffee killer concoction of sorts… I finally made it out of the house by about 3:15, to head to the coffeeshop where learning sometimes happens. A five minute drive, along which I pick up your new album where I had left it off, end of track 5. And smoke a bit while driving with my knees, one of my favorite risky behaviors, it takes the edge off caffeinated brain abuse.
I’m dancing my ass off behind the wheel, then I get there, turn to park, kill the engine, keep the music, then the 7th track comes on, and I hear a heart beat. I count about 38 beats or so by the time the display read 0:15 into the song, that’s a heart rate of about 160. Maximum heart rate is (220 - age), mine is about 195. I made it to 200 once when I was 15, 50 beats in 15 secs. Whatever you’re doing with a heart rate of 160, has got to be pretty intense, I’m thinking. Next thing I know the whole fucking car is pulsating, and I along with it. “Wow, my sound system is better than I thought…” and the music plays on and my thoughts drift about, I’m zoning out, until I suddenly realize I’m in, I’m in fucking Wonderland, Space Land, amongst throngs of fantastic creatures. Suddenly I realize I’m in fucking Oz. I guess it takes at least a 4-channel stereo system to do justice to music production of such quality… (My computer speakers didn’t quite measure up..). I held my hands in my lap, and they’re resting against my root chakra, and together they’re absorbing the pulse, started charging like a battery. I sat there, completely immobile, except for my jaw, which would regularly drop in shock and awe, until it stayed there and didn’t come back up, and I sat sitting there with a half gaping mouth. Thinking, “Nah. No no, no man, no fucking way.” Too good to be true, like those mangoes I onced picked off the side of the road in Tahiti. I yanked the fruit out of my mouth after biting into it, b/c I couldn’t believe a mango could taste so good… They were yellow, green, orange, pink and red, 5 colors per mango… No way man, no way. I’m sitting there, and it took me the longest time to realize I was still wearing my seat belt. A fucking carnival, I tripped my balls off. I moved a bit so that my head was right in the center, then closed my eyes and saw a symphony, a magical carnival, with sounds of all sorts of shapes, colors, textures, width, porosity, opacity, transparency and shimmer, watch them bounce rhythmically in different patterns and criss-cross into a complex weave over my head and all around, every corner, couldn’t keep track, it kept morphing. I got slapped by fine metal bristles, tickled by an army of tiny little metals balls, tiny tiny bouncing in synchrony like dancing marionettes to make an army of tiny tiny metal sounds… Then Cherry Pie, that low frequency sound, thick but light, progressively lighter, low density, like it suddenly drops or dilutes itself, expanding somehow. Then, 1 min 40 secs into it, I don’t quite know happens there, I think I lack the words to describe what that moment, that music, what you did to my head but my eyebrows suddenly went up. Way up. No way. Fantastic carousel fairy land. Maybe, reflections reflected, ad infinitum, like, walking into a fractal. Into a corridor of mirrors… No way. And the weave had so many layers, I can’t even conceptualize distances. That whole time I was still sitting in my car, eyes closed, little bubble of trance as cars and people zooming past like ants, buzzing about like busy bees, like that scene in Trainspotting where Marc Renton is catatonic and everything and everyone else around is zipping by, moving fast forward. My life, always on the fucking move, always calculating the next. SO nice to sit down and stop moving. Even more still than the nearby trees swaying in the wind… I don’t know WHERE the fuck I went, but I wasn’t there. Maybe I had one too many toke of greens. Cherry Pie, I have my own experience of the title of this track, but I think I heard what you meant to say—the voice of the woman, the words she spoke, flavors of red blood cherry berry pie sugar sex magik sweet momma love n milk, pierced by a flurry of needles, metal arrows. It’s really an amazing track. Really, really a beautiful track. I’m looking at the clock, still no studying happening, but finally I realized—THIS right here, THAT moment, was EXACTLY what I fucking needed. To sit the fuck down, and do nothing, but to listen, observe, watch the sounds dance around me, and everything else—to hold still, hold my hands in my lap, recharge. I think that’s exactly what arthritis is, oxidative stress, loss of electrons. My hands, even more precisely my joint capsules, were buzzing, warming up, like electricity. That had only happened while practicing QiGong before, and it had never been so precisely localized in my joints… I had to hear the whole thing, so back full circle to the first track, which is like, the white rabbit leading you down the hole. Like, Hullo, hi, welcome, let me take you on a ride… Arcadia Magik, HAHAHa awesome name. I forget what track is was, but there was a pause, then a wicked break, I jolted, I literally jumped. Then One Cell Short of a Brain comes on, and I"m getting fucking nervous. NOOO that sound, that horrible, disturbing sound is gonna come on, and squeeze and stretch and twist my brains like marshmallow. Like taffy. I heard the sample already, that sound threw me off, it rubbed me the wrong way… I anticipate, it comes on, it does pretty much _exactly_ what I knew it would do to my brains—but this time I found myself bursting out laughing… I guess I was prepared… hahaha. And then that sound comes back, later, but just to say hello, and it makes me nervous again, but that time it behaved… That track is actually remarkable. It’s like, being in a spaceship, like the intergalactic space travel at the end of “2001: A Space Odyssey.” When Drug Sock came on, I had a really hard time remaining still. A sudden dire need to incorporate and embody the music, the beat the pulse, fucking intense, and I saw you sit in the middle, cross-legged on a magical flying carpet like Aladdin, throwing sounds with hand gestures in the air, a clap, a wave, a flick of the wrist—a Finger—flung about left and right like Mickey Mouse as a blue-robed wizard in Fantasia. But ultimately, I think it was really Logic of the Polyphonic that blew me to smithereens. \My being just suddenly got very light, expanded, distilled, diluted, inflated, like a balloon filled with helium—or rather like a zeppelin filled with explosive hydrogen, the Hindenburg… and started floating. Hitched a ride on a magic carpet. Funny, because as my jaw was dropping, eventually all the muscles in my face went limp, my face got all flaccid. Which barely ever happens, even when you’re asleep… (actually I think psychological trauma can make you lose facial muscular tone…) and as the tension is seeping out, I realize the pattern of tension, a pattern of asymmetry that I try to balance back into symmetry… And I’m noticing how cool thing it is that, now that I know what those muscles are, I understand the patterns of tension… I think that’s the track during which I was the furthest out in space. So far gone. But, it was 9th, that’s the boldest, it was 9th that took me to see the greatest number of places. The biggest. Epic. Oscillations of large amplitude… And I’m not talking about frequency, I’m not sure what I’m talking about, waves of sorts, my whole spirit undulating. Felt like a fish in a typhoon. Hey, I wrote that without even thinking, haha, the fish, the bird, the man that swam through the speaker. And the fact that you know how to pace yourself. Add intensity, gradually. Add a layer, give it time to unfold, slow down. Then slap on an unexpected, ego-shattering, orgasmic break. At 4:00 into 9th. Don’t know what exactly happened to me at that moment, but i guess I must have nearly orgasmed. Was that meant to be the halfway point of the album? See, that’s why I like Twisted sounds—the pace is a tease, about that you get to right BEFORE orgasming, so it keeps you hanging there, waving about it. That’s the supposed biochemical basis of addiction, dopamine bursts that make you feel like you’re aaaalmost orgasming, but noooot quiiiite yeeeet…. so you want more, a little bit more, and little sooner… Whereas the dark somber neuropsy that kids spin out here, it’s at least 150, it’s too fast for me. I won’t come, it’s not sustainable. I should watch what I say, you’re a married man> LOL. And then, a minute and 46 seconds later. 9th @ 5:46. Holy Cow, holy Boar of Siberia, holy waddling Penguin. Holy hyperactive nutty small furry mammal. Felt SO good. More like, hm-hm, ~multiple~ orgasms… I think that’s when I got literally startled and jumped. Like a Big Bang, a galaxy formed, spinning, with trailing spiral arms… Soma took me the longest to figure out. Contemplations on the nature of poetry… but I think I got it. Maybe. At least I think I started to understand the title of the track… So now I’m back in Oz, it’s about 4:30 in the afternoon, more like midnight and the golden chariot returns to pumpkin but I’m feeling so fucking good. Still in a bit of shock, but not a trace of tension in my face. Which I guess showed, from the seemingly bemused looks I got as I walked very slowly into the coffeeshop trying to avoid making any sort of eye contact… WHO would have thought THIS kind of music would be truly, deeply relaxing? For me so far it’s been more catharsis, modulation. Not meditation… that was a first of its kind.
I think that was the funnest first encounter with an album that I can remember ever having. I’m trying to think. Think think. Nope, can’t think. I fell for Queen pretty hard, when I was 10 or so, my first memorable musical crush, but not like that. That was like getting hit by a freight train. Usually the albums I really like, I have to listen to them several times, and they grow on me, slowly but surely. This one knocked me right off my feet and on my ass. My hands are grateful, Benji. Man, no way. I’m in utter disbelief. So clean, so crisp, so cut, so deliberate. Smooth, slick, every shape and form, trimmed with precision like shiny marble sculpture, a fucking symphony, a cosmic dance, a carnival. What a party. That was so fun, so good for me. Thank you, man. You are truly a master. The Younger Brother… You and Si are both very fortunate to have such a kick ass, cool sibling.
(Actually, -YOU- are the cool one. Simon is not that cool actually, I’d rather say that he - - - is fucking hot… LOL. Together you even out approximately to room temperature—)
Also, I didn’t really understand the cover art—the creepy scary robot, I was really confused by it. Like the cover of “Flock o’ Bleeps.” Until I noticed it had the face of an angel… Hm. Hhhhmmm.
Oh. Oooooh, ho ho hooo….
... in honor of MLK Day—piss your pants and work your abs—
Stephen Colbert, on racial bias—
Sounds like you had a good one there, it’s a shame to make another post in this thread but the discussion must go on
First, this is a great album and I do prefer it to Robot-o-chan. I can’t remember being this enthusiastic about a new album in a long long time.
There is something very special with the atmosphere on this album. the feeling it radiates remind me a lot of one of my old favourite albums, The Mystery Of The Thirteen Crystal Skulls. It’s deeply psychedelic in the mesmerizing, hypnotic way, a quality fairly uncommon with high tempo albums. The bass and kickdrum are very in-your-face all the way through the album, but yet somehow they seem to fall into the background and transform into sort of an energy, leaving the mind free to enjoy the vast deep soundscapes. Something for the body and the mind indeed!
Another very unique quality is the way there doesn’t seem to be any ‘strong’ melodies or themes , but rather a multitude smaller ones that build complex and deep structures in a grand way .. The music seems big, complex and powerful, like a huge tripping orchestra playing to a trance beat.
This is a strong, essential album which is likely to become a classic.
A bit on the tracks too:
Arcadia Magik - This must be the best possible opener track. It flows beatifully from the start to finish and perfectly illustrates what this album is about, it’s a bit like a miniature of it. Superb track, definitely.
One Cell Short Of A Brain - This one is probably my least favourite on the album. It starts in a bit silly, playful style, reminding me not to take the music TOO seriously, yet I disagree with it, this IS stuff to take seriously. After all it gets together quite nicely halfway to the track, and doesn’t stick out too much
Drug Sock - This track starts the 25 minutes of pure bliss. It builds up energy, grooves along powerfully, paving the way to the highlight of the album yet shining in it’s own right. Well shining’s probably not the best word for it, for it’s actually somewhat dark and especially those whispers in the background are creepy. Great track!
Logic Of The Polyphonic - The album peaks. The beat goes into the ‘relentless pounding’ mode, the synth lines pick up energy, this is the perfect followup to Drug Sock, continuing where it left yet upping the energy & drive, dropping the dark creepyness. Listening to this is 8 minutes 19 seconds well spent and possibly the best RoI for time investment in the less than 10 minutes series.
9th - Oh my. I thought I would be recovering from the awesomeness that the previous track was, but instead I’m confronted with this. A psy-trance track with symphonic qualities, I understood Beethoven would be an inspiration here but never having heard the good old Ludvig Vans 9th, can’t comment too much on that. Anyway, this sounds Grand. Epic psychedelica, is that a genre? I love the way it takes a break around the 5 minute mark, going into concert violing mode only to distort and fade then explode back to life with massive energy. Spiritually this reminds me of Classical Mushroom yet the sound is totally different. Loving that last minute dictorted ..erm .. string instrument(?) too. Quality.
Soma - Is positioned in a very unlucky slot. It’s certainly no bad track, but someone has to take us back to the real world again, and that role falls to Soma. This track is less grand, more relaxed. More groovy. Less psychedelia. The beat is hammering and the vibe is cool. To throw in a compliment, it’s a bit Younger Brothery.
Oz & Cherry Pie - The album slowly winds down with these tracks. Nice to listen, relaxing even, but nothing that truly captures my mind & imagination. In certain moments they roll real well though, in certain ones not. Cherry Pie seems occasionally out of balance with the hammering beat and dreamy minimal melodies.
So there we have it - 4 awesome tracks, 4 good to forgettable tracks. As such it wouldn’t have enough to earn a classic status, but factoring in the overall quality of the sound and the magical feeling plus the sheer awesomeness of the great tracks make this a truly great album. Younger Brother 2 will face tough times topping this one.
What huh? Forgettable? You callin’ Cherry Pie forgettable?? Nah, no way. Man, you be talkin/ shit ‘bout Cherry Pie? Nah, no way, you may have heard it but you haven’t listened. Or else you’ve listened but you haven’t heard, either way you’ve missed smthg. [ouch] Of course it’s out of balance, it’s not supposed to keep your feet on the ground. ... It takes mind and imagination for them to be captured—say, are you missing either? [Ouch,whatta cocky bitch I am. And have been, gee, it musta rubbed off someone or smthg, I dunno.] ... You know what you could try? you know those um candle type things, you know you stick ‘em in your ear and you light ‘em and the wax piled up in your ear comes out? You know, ear candles. LOL. [Sorry I’ll quit Im gonna quit already.] I think Cherry Pie is breathtakingly beautiful. Maybe it takes being smthg to perceive smthg, maybe you gotta be it to see it or hear it—tell me, smn, are you beautiful?? LOL. [Ok now it’s gotten self-flattering, I really gotta quit. I was told to love myself recently, i’m just following the bad advice I was given, but hey I was the first one to give it.] Cherry Pie is delicious, though any other sort of metaphorical pie I’d turn down. [And probably chase you with it until I succeeded in sticking it up your ass, but that’s a different story.] . . . Lemme tell you where mind and imagination go, in different directions, like the Tex Avery cross-eyed octopus giving directions by pointing in 8 different directions. Except this one is made of styrofoam macaroni and glitter spray paint… DAMN this girl is CRAAZYy. But you see in MY head—according to ~my~ logic—it all, ALL fucking made sense. I guess you can call that the logic of the polyphonic… or at least, of the polyglot. LOL. Okay, from the first baseline, just @ one minute, 1:00,listen to that sound dropping suddenly to the Underworld, and that’s exactly what it does to my mind, it warps it down to the dark realm of Hades. Just a quick dip in Hell before resurfacing. The Rape of Persephone, just like Demeter’s daughter furtively stolen, just for a bit, just for the winter season, the time it took Mama Demeter to get really fucking depressed and let every autotrophic lifeform fade and die before figuring out what was goign on with her lovely daughter. Uh-oh, keep off the pomegranate. Cherry Pie… Same at 1:10, quick dip, but more so @ 1:15, just a kick hello to Satan, waving hello. With Crisco and poppers by his side and Saddam Hussein going, “Ah, reelaaaaax!!!” ...Then @ 1+20 it’s suddenly raining little shiny metal stars from the sky, like glittery confetti. It’s raining tinsel, angel hair, the pitch is dropping down to earth and then goes back up, and it picked me up and is now taking me along with it, riding on the flying carpet through a rain of sparkles and glitter, like the massive grand finale of the fireworks between the Eiffel Towel and the Trocadero on Bastille Day, the entire sky fills with gold dust. Woman, take your silver spoon, and dig YOUR GRAVE. @ 1:40, a sudden hole magically appears on the flying carpet, and I fall through, like skydiving amidst gold dust. Oh MAN think of that, skydiving through Bastille Day Parisian fireworks… LIke a bird, like an eagle hungry for pie (PROMETHEUS@!!! WHere’s Benji when we need him??)—like Icarus, except I’d wanna dodge the big balls of fire but that’s b/c I have a good survival instinct… Usually, not as of late - - - back to 1:40, free fall from flying carpet through bursts of lights and sounds, colors and flavors, a feast for every sense, feels so good—my favorite part of the track I think, makes me feel like I get caught by some magical poney, a unicorn, a horse, oh better!! Pegasus, and here Greek mythology comes back to haunt me, how handy how appropriate—fucking Greeks, fucking Alexander the Great Asshole set fire to precious texts erased ancient secrets of medicine and drowned narratives of the lost city of Atlantis only b/c Darius, b/c the fucking Persians pissed him off.. Ah, but Roxanne his only wife was Persian—the great irony!! Or else Afghani? Ancient Persia—same thing same land maybe. Either way, the most beautiful women are Uzbeki, no questions asked. Yeah you wouldn’t know b/c you’ve never seen them. Yeah there’s a REASON their males will veil them you know. I hadn’t realized that until I saw a family of Saudis in Iran, a man his wife and 4 daughters, and the teenage daughter, who being young was allowed to remove her burka once in a while, was so damn beautiful at age 14 or so, that I couldn’t stop staring at her, and I’m pretty damn straight. For the most part. Actually, not -that- straight, a little crooked. A little twisted, a lil’ queer… I could certainly emasculate you with my lesbian shoes. LOL. A heel well aimed with knowledge of the relevant anatomy, call it a sidewalk vasectomy. ... OK backtrack, Alexander—wasn’t he fucking gay anyway?? Speaking of queer. My mother almost called me Roxanne, but changed her mind b/c of The Police song, and b/c of the Disney cartoon, The Fox and The Hound which in France was called Rox and Rookie and she worried kids would tease me by calling me Rox the Fox. I dunno Mum, I still think Rox the Fox is about the coolest nickname I’ve ever heard, but hey it’s your call. No no backtrack further back on topic—oh yes, cherry pie up your ass and winged horses, that’s right I’m riding Pegasus at this point. And Pegasus become a wooden horse stuck to a golden pole which becomes part of a magical fairy ethereal carousel, hologram magic barely tangible and half translucent, like memory, like the carousels of my childhood - - - you know the carousel at the foot of the Sacre Coeur in Montmartre, you know? the carousel you see in the film Amelie. I used to ride that carousel as a child. And I still do when I return to honor nostalgia, a tribute to Time passing, pestering my friends like a child until they abide my strength of will to systematically seek and find beautiful fun—who secretly love the ritual but still love to complain, “OK she’s back in town, we gotta take her back to the fucking carousel…” I have a ball _every time_. The uncomprehending and frightened looks I get from parents and children alike are part of the kick… LOL. Yes I put out a lot of energy and I take in just as much, it’s a law of physics, what is it—blackbody radiation. Sweet mama CHerry Pie, bringing back memories of childhood like a winged horse hologram… and then the baseline returns just to keep the flying carpet momentum going, just as extra fuel, a little spark, and then you have those mean moaning guitars, a little lull, a rest so you don’t get too dizzy on the carousel, very considerate, very well-paced, in prep for, what let’s see - @ 4:37 you’re back on the carousel, back up to the airborn holographic carnival, back into the tinsel, the confetti metal stars in the sky, just a stepping stone for serious ass-shaking right around 5:00 or so—then that lil’ melody @ 5:30 that makes me dance like a robot-o-chan—then around 6:00 u got trumpets grooving, I mean, that track’s got elements of jazz, funk, rock ‘n’ roll, sugar sweet sex magik, what more you ask. Ear candles? And I think I’m pretty fucking critical, obviously—of art particularly. Of myself primarily… Maybe that’s why I was drawn to Twisted. The ultimate perfectionists of the scene, of any current scene I think… and then the song melts into goodness sweetness, into cherries, pomegranate Persephone returning to her happy mama whose joy sends all the blossoms in full bloom filling the cornucopia with sweet delicious fruit. Red and plump. Fruit and flower popping open with the flurry of little metal arrows piercing the words of the woman, like little cherries, little hearts, Cupid in a corner squeezing sweet delicious red cherry juice from the blooms and blossoms of Spring… Mmmmh… ouch. Nah, YB 2 isn’t gonna top that. It can’t, a masterpiece can’t be topped, another masterpiece just has to be—different. Just be its own thing… though I worry that with a name like “Last Days of GRavity” it’s really gonna be really fucking depressing. Unless there is some redemptive joy to be found in the evaporation of the Universe? A black hole, a Big fucking BANG… A Spring filled with blooms and blossoms. After a cold-ass, long-ass winter, with Mama Earth mopping around and sweet little girlie missing, and all the red delicious pomegranates and cherries stuck in Hell. (... if the album is released in a timely fashion, that is… it’s ALL about Timing, isn’t it??.... ) Well, Flock o’ Bleeps was also ‘very very painful indeed,’ the expression of which was nevertheless well-concealed, not perceptible the first time around. Concealed under a flock o’ bleeps…. So, give the Cherry Pie a second chance. Second time around, you might catch that ride on the back of Pegasus… I do, admittedly suffer of any excess of imagination, which does cause me suffering—for instance if I had less imagination I’d been sleeping right now but there’s no way that’s gonna happen soon cuz I"M ON FUCKING FIRE—I dunno, musta rubbed off smthg or someone. Can’t put my Finger on it. Must be my considerable relapse into drug use. Funny Si B, you deliberately make one New Year’s resolution, and I incidentally made the exact opposite one… whoops, I slipped, didn’t mean—didn’t mean to do it that way… (that’s a Queens of the Stone Age song. Put another dime in the jukebox babe…). And if it’s not just a minor, benign case of imaginary excess, then I might indeed be truly deranged and I’m ready to give up and seek a psychiatric assessment cuz i’m not too sure where I stand - - - fucking insane computer upstairs, for sure. And studying brains, the insane computer learns itself, it’s like, looking into a mirror, looking into another mirror—ad infinitum, like a fractal. Like Alice in Wonderland walking into a Corridor of Mirrors. Oh wow this is a first, you see the insane computer upstairs is also a fucking jukebox, which is part of what keeps me up at night—and there’s a CD jam, where David Bowie’s “Funny how secrets travel, I"d start to believe - - if I were to bleed… I’m… deeeeraaaanged, deranged my love…” suddenly competes with the Ramones - - - UH, UH, UH-UH Uh UH, UH UH-UH - - - - I WANNA BE SEDATED - - - - UH, UH, UH-UH Uh UH, UH UH-UH - - - - I WANNA BE - - - - I’m going on drugs, legal, legit, commercial ones—I’m selling out at last to the ‘evil’ shaman I am training to be anyway, I’m giving up my biophysical, psychosexual model of being and giving into the established chemical, anatomical model—- I’m getting my head shrunk and I’ll behave if I find the will to - - - which is questionable - - - UH, UH, UH-UH Uh UH, UH UH-UH - - - - I’m deraaaanged, deranged my love…. LOL.
peace (and SLEEP, with any Luck, Oh Fortuna, velut Luna, statu vari - aaa - bilis…)
xo ~ p
PS: Oh say, BENJI-O - - - I’m in chorus and we just started singing Carmina Burana (GREAT another CD to get jammed into the nocturnal jukebox that keeps me up @ night), and it is SO BEAUTIFUL it sends chills down my back and I left rehearsal feeling so good and smooth as honey, I get to my car and “9th - The Man Who Swam…” is playing and i’m thinking AAAH if only you tweaked with Carl Orff, that would be W - I - C - K - E - D ! ! ! !And with the badass baseline it’s already got, it would be EEAAASY…. ~ that ~ would be a piece of cake. Or, pie, rather, whichever you like. Both of which are available at the fucking bakery - - - unlike other ‘things’ . . . Funny how secrets travel, I start to believe, if I were to bleed - - - - - -
[quote author=“pointykitty”][size=3]What huh? Forgettable? You callin’ Cherry Pie forgettable?? Nah, no way. Man, you be talkin/ shit ‘bout Cherry Pie? Nah, no way, you may have heard it but you haven’t listened. Or else you’ve listened but you haven’t heard, either way you’ve missed smthg. [ouch] Of course it’s out of balance, it’s not supposed to keep your feet on the ground. ... It takes mind and imagination for them to be captured—say, are you missing either? [Ouch,whatta cocky bitch I am. And have been, gee, it musta rubbed off someone or smthg, I dunno.] ... You know what you could try? you know those um candle type things, you know you stick ‘em in your ear and you light ‘em and the wax piled up in your ear comes out? You know, ear candles. LOL. [Sorry I’ll quit Im gonna quit already.]
It’s nice to detect that different people like different tracks on this album though. For me the last 3 tracks are not all that essential - they are nice but I could live without them, but I think all of them have been expressed as favourites by different posters
To be honest I couldn’t read more than the start of your post since the lack of space hurts my head - please consider adding paragraphs to break that huge block of text.
[quote author=“pointykitty”]I think Cherry Pie is breathtakingly beautiful. Maybe it takes being smthg to perceive smthg, maybe you gotta be it to see it or hear it—tell me, smn, are you beautiful??
hohoh gigigiggle. Um, pictures??—well, if that’s how you define beauty… sure!! give it up. lol
thx for the formatting tip, eh? I ~ will ~ consider it, if i manage to actually think next time I go on a rant of the sort… oh my abs hurt, hoho. you didn’t read it?? hah you’re missing out, I had so much fun with it, i went insane. whoops, yet again…
say Benji, I don’t know if you even read these mad scribblings but i been listening to Robot-o-Chan, with led me to Chan, Marshall that is, aka. “Cat Power” who sings a beautiful track on an album called “White People” by The Handsome Boy Modeling School. u listen to hip hop, don’t you, DON’T YOU? yeah, busted, you fucking rock, that track is so sweet—I think I nearly squealed with joy the first time I heard that little low “... hmm—” @ ~ 4:28 into the song, and had to rewind it to hear it again right away… that lil’ hmm so, what’s the word—so endearing… made me gigigiggle… So Cat Power sings a song called “I Been THinking” and that’s the only track i really listen to but the next track is good too, it’s hip hop rock n roll crazy mix of sorts, called “Rock ‘n’ Roll (Could Never Hip Hop Like This)”, i love when it all melts and fuses - - - and it made me think of you b/c it remixes some classical just like you do with 9th, uh i think it’s Vivaldi’s Four Seasons but I’m not sure, classical pieces i mix ‘em all up… it’s got a few lame breaks like one with poppy modern pseudopunk you’d hear in LA on fuckign KROQ, but hey KROQ still plays some Tool so they’re not _that_ lame ... i better stop now before i go on a mad ride chasing white bunnies and winged horses, that’s all i wanted to say anywhy… gigigi—- -
i think hip hop is the last ‘genre’ i have grown to appreciate—just b/c as a proponent of counterculture in LA you _have_ to despise hip hop, but I came to a point where i realized ‘i can’t fully enjoy my youth in this nation if I can’t groove to hip hop”... (I have yet to go clubbing in Atlanta, i wanna go to a place where i’ll be the only white girl) - - and it’s more than sweet low beat hip shake n roll, it’s a movement of its own - - - which is what DJ Jazzy Jay explains to Vivaldi’s Four Seasons… and Carla Bruni what a killer voice - - - it’s like, sensory honey - - - [non sequitur] oh and in case you might perhaps consider the suggestion of tweaking with the profane - - - just in case - - i don’t know, maybe not, it’s pretty hot, hot potato, can’t touch this . . . . can you?? http://www.sfsymphony.org/audioplayer/jukeset1.asp?clipid=152
Finally got my copy of Corridor and it is pretty awsome. It gets better with each listen as well. I have yet to tire of any of the tracks, but have to say that #5, the 9th, is the standout here. One a very well crafted album, it seems to have received more love and attention from Benji, than the others. Who can blame him…when you are working with good old Ludwig Van’s music, the bar is already raised pretty high. It doesn’t overshadow the rest of the album, but stood out enough to make me take notice.
Excellent album Benji, I am enjoying getting to know her.
And no, Cherry Pie is NOT forgettable.
I want that album too, but don’t have enough cash at the moment. I already ordered 2 compilations with Hallucinogen tracks on it (from a local store that never seems to arrive), and recently bought 4 other compilation CDs.
The first “Thank You Gaia” album I’ve heard in a while.
Logic of the Polyphonic is my favorite right now, the beginning is simply genius. My head feels like a frisbee, twice its normal size, every time I hear that voice. It’s hard to describe why… It’s a beautiful examination of the way we perceive thoughts… AABA
Like wow, Benji, I JUST HAD to tell you this its KERRRRRAAZZZY!! man I tell you.. I woke up with one of your tunes from your new album in my head yesterday and i had to go BANG My HEAD AGAiNST tHE fUCKiNG WALL it was sooooooo iNSane, and tehn i ran into the bathroom and WANKED MySELF iNTO A FRENZY until i was FROTHiNG AT THE MOUTH and started hallucinating PiNK ROBOTS in frilly petticoats dancing in front of my eyes.. MAN you just HAD to be there, and everytime I closed my eyes i got this crazy long string of numbers 3.141592 something something, wtf is that all abuot??? LOL!
Anyway i have to go now as my brains just FELL OUTTA MY ASSHOLE.