on bizarre musical creatures that wriggle and scream themselves into existence.
My decade list will occur on my Tumblr which is where I have wasted my hiatus time. It will occur in an order that is practically arbitrary (though the last album I write about will be my favorite record of the past ten years) because I can’t prefer Blut aus Nord over Jay-Z because the only similarity between their records is that they are designed to sound huge (skyscrapers for the latter, ice mountains for the former). So no numbers, just emotions. See you all there tomorrow.
(desperation + noise) will be on hiatus for a month, after which I may be finished with papers and school and the excessive tyranny of both. These papers will all play into this blog’s larger theme (as much as it could be said to have one) (okay one’s just going to be about ’60’s Japanese psych-rock but that has always been what this blog is about) which I guess is about the visceral impact of music but also how this visceral impact relates to larger social movements that are maybe evil? I should stop here. (These papers will probably be published here, is what I intended to say.)
I will still write intermittently at my Tumblr because I cannot resist page 50 of my dashboard and I will achieve it and linger in its glory one fine day. If you would like to read more sentences like the previous one then please follow the link. I know some of you fear links not for the places you may be inadvertently taken to but for your own responsibility in reaching that particular destination. Know that I understand as much as anyone can understand anything, which is very little. Know that I am earnest?
Also I am on Twitter just makin’ eyes at everybody. See you in a month.
When the alien language is transmitted direct into our brains, will we be prepared to understand it?
Get the edge on your fellow humans. Retrieve that bottle of whiskey that you were saving for an unknown day in the future when things would get really desperate. Don’t waste a glass—there are no sad dishes in our future. Take it as direct into your throat as possible. There is room for purity in this world, and it is important that this moment in your life be pure in practice though you simultaneously cause your organs to writhe in deathly pleasure like snakes in the hot sun.
a.k.a. (desperation + noise): SPECIAL VIDEO EDITION. Um.
Necessary context: I have yet to retrieve the music from the failed heart of my external hard drive. Thus, it is difficult for me to write about how the entire Converge discography details The Plague and the ways in which it spreads through the body and blackens the bones, as their discography is currently unavailable to me. This would have been explained in the following video had I not edited it beyond comprehension.
The idea (of my parading in front of a camera and pointing at music that ignites me) originates in the brilliant mind of my friend Erin; my execution may have botched the original brilliance. In lieu of my traditional music library gone on blackout vacation, I talk about a really odd record in my vinyl collection and a really odd record in The Beach Boys catalog. It is not the kind of talk that is necessarily coherent.
I shall not front: There are many foolish moments in this thing. This is okay; I bear my foolishness with enthusiastic pride. I do not bear my desperate need for a haircut with the same.
