gurgle

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playing catch-up

I'm way behind in my CD-tallying, so in no particular order, here are some of the latest acquisitions from the past month:

29. Judas Priest -- British Steel
30. Judas Priest -- Screaming for Vengeance

Both remastered, these blasts from my past have been blasting from my speakers on heavy rotation for the last week. Rob Halford is probably my favorite metal vocalist of all time--no one else is that fierce and melodic at once. My co-workers must think I'm insane, regressing, or having a mid-life crisis. While they're talking about mortgages, children, and divorces, I'm cranking Priest tunes in the warehouse, singing along maniacally with Rob. What can I say? Life is short, so rock out.

31. Pole -- CD 1

This disc crackles, hisses, and pops like radio broadcasts from deep space. Subsonic frequencies mutate into ghostly basslines as whistles and sirens echo from within ancient black holes. Call it dub or glitch or whatever: Pole creates late-night music that gives my heebiejeebies the creeps. And that's a good thing.

32. Jethro Tull -- Catfish Rising
33. Jethro Tull -- Roots to Branches
34. Jethro Tull -- J-Tull Dot Com

Can you tell that I've been on a Tull kick? These are their three most recent studio releases, and I bought them all used for a combined price of ten dollars. Roots to Branches is my current fave of the three, having the longest, proggiest tunes; but the other two discs are just as solid.

35. Genesis -- Trespass

Speaking of prog, this disc gets snubbed by many fanboys as not quite being up to snuff with the other Gabriel-era releases. Bunk, drivel, and piffle, I say! Trespass holds its own in a raw and ramshackle way, lurching and lunging with a genteel malevolence. Naysayers who whine that prog has no balls have never heard The Knife, eight minutes of menace and agitprop, rallying earnest young men with beards to take to the streets. Killer stuff.

Much more to come--stay tuned...

here comes spring

I need to see green. Desperately.

embrace the random xx

Flash Paintings

These hapharzardly generated images have a floating feeling to them, a strange melding of Roger Dean and spraycan graffiti.

the need to leave

Some mornings I feel like jumping in and riding away.

as above, so below

slip into the fog ii

klang klang

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brad delp

The first album that I ever bought with my own money ($4.99 at Peaches) was the self-titled debut by Boston. I played that record until it crackled and popped like Rice Crispies. I read the liner notes so many times that I had them memorized--certain phrases became inside jokes around the house (listen to the record!).

The local classic-rock station announced today that Boston vocalist Brad Delp passed away last week. To borrow a phrase from Mark Kozelek, Delp had "a voice that soars and takes my wounds with it." Listening to those great songs on the radio today made me feel both a little younger and a little older. Rest in peace, Brad, and thanks for the music.

slip into the fog

neon heat disease iii

embrace the random xix

flash and maths

There's something very 1970s in a cool way about these ever-shifting geometric patterns. This one goes out to Mortimer Ichabod Marker.

it's good to be alive

Thirty-eight years ago today, I entered this world naked, bloody, and crying. Let's hope that I do not leave the same way.

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mile twenty-three

25 through 28

More used-CD threshing separated this wheat from the chaff:

25. Elliott Smith -- from a basement on the hill
26. Rhinoceros -- Tiny Ghosts
27. Isis -- Celestial
28. Aereogramme -- Seclusion

pining for the fjords