#BROUK

[tomassci]

Jsem to jen já nebo zachytili i ostatní ony hnědoučké brouky ve vodě nebo tak podobně?

Myslím tyhlety chroustky letní. A najdete je třeba ve vodě protože jsou úplně nemotorní a naráží do všeho možného, i do vody.

[mist-the-wannabe-linguist]

Hey can we talk about there being a wholeass funeral scene in a book for kindergarten-age kids where the main character gets literally buried alive

And with art like this too

[obrazkovepribehy]

[omegaremix]

April 5, 2018.

A venture into New York City is always a good thing. Give me any reason - a doctor’s appointment, family, or a show in Greenpoint - and I’m there. This time it was a check-up on the pricier Lower East Side. I asked the team to give me an early time because I knew something else was going on behind the clinic. I know because my old man drove me home all the time and took a specific rote to do so.

The chilly 35* temperatures bit like any early April would. The sharp white sun constantly cut across the passing white clouds drifting through the dry blue sky. I stand at the Deer Park platform for a few minutes and anticipate its’ arrival. The iPod Classic (160GB) is still holding up. It’s been my only companion that comes with me for Christ knows how long, ever since it’s not-as-capable brother (30GB) took it’s first ride with me supplying Whitehouse’s Racket, Vincent Gallo’s When, and various Boards Of Canada and Roy Ayers cuts. That was another springtime trip where Cath- and I joined forces at Penn Station to go to the Brooklyn Museum and back home on the Ronkonkoma line for what was one of the most significant days ever lived. I loaded up the 400 or so finds to it of songs I never heard of before, songs then in the auditioning phase for Omega WUSB’s airplay. Train rides on the Deer Park line are usually prime-time to cycle through it all with no distractors around. My other companions? A Sony kit and a tripod.

I board and sit on the outer left aisle facing forward. No window seat this time. Public Image Ltd.’s “Poptones” couldn’t have come at a better time as the Deer Park line slowly rolled down through Farmingdale. None more fitting when those loopy dangling notes of Keith Levene’s Veleno moved perfectly with the slow floating crawl of the car. I’m not even paying attention to the motion blur of the graffiti or the industrial buildings usually experienced when looking out of the window. Another song plays, it’s The Plugz’ “Satisifed And Die”. It was a gift from Holly, a Brooklyn goth girl who followed me here. She’s made me roused and stimulated like no other. We been trading recommendations for a couple months based on our equivalencies of industrial, noise, punk, and other artists. I never heard of Plugz until she told me that “Hammy” from The Pee-Wee Herman Show was in the band.

The music still spun in my ears. Each song that played was saved to the day’s on-the-go playlist. No skips or fast-forwards. Eventually there’ll be seven or ten songs out of thirty that will follow me around forever out from the 400 chosen for April 5th. They kept going, and so was I on the way to Penn Station. Final track to end the ride? “Hold On To Your Genre” from Les Savy Fav, a band I’ve heard about over the years, and maybe a mention from former selector Xtina who used to run The All Ages Show before I took over her timeslot. Holly’s hits kept on parading through.

Penn Station here. I save my energy taking the A/C/E connecting me to the N/Q/R/W line to Lexington Av. and walk up 3rd St. to the clinic. Here I am! I’m directed to go upstairs and angle myself for some x-rays before heading downstairs to see the silver surgeon who saved my life eighteen months ago.

“Wow! What’s that?” excitingly ask Renee, the surgeon’s assistant. She saw my kit and tripod and told her I was going to shoot after our appointment. She was happy to see me. They’ve seen them all come and go during all their years in practice. It was a treat for them to see me have this new energy from when I was either blacked out on the hospital bed or frustrated and itching ready to go. But here I was. That’s the most important thing for all of us, right? Silver took his hand and pressed his tips on my shoulder to feel any changes. Looked over the film and saw no changes. Asked me how I was doing with this British / Irish roll and was pleased to hear that I was doing great. An hour later, I was good to go. Show’s over for now. See you in six months.

I haul my inventory out of the clinic and head towards where my old man would start our path home. It’s the Grand Army Plaza at the southeastern corner of Central Park. Look up and you’ll see the golden monument of William Tecumseh Sherman riding high on a stone pedestal with Victory guiding the way. I take several photos of all their heroic glory. A few horse-and-carriage jockeys were all around me with their furnishings dressed in white, red, and purple with gold trim. I see many overseas families make the best of their time taking photos for mementos forever to be remembered by, not knowing if and when they’ll have another opportunity to return again. But I don’t stop there.

Forward I go into Central Park, because I had all the time in the world to tread into uncharted territory. I walk past the disused zoo and end up at the Balto statue. How cute. I stop and snap away for more test shots before some former aspiring Aron Kay wanna-be rode his bike past me and said something about Balto being a liberal conspiracy, and self-declared it a debacle that was worse that seeing Oprah’s goatse. I walk away from his trailed stench of shit and dried blood and now here I am walking right down the middle of The Mall and Literary Walk. It literally welcomes you in with its pathway, where its generousity is measured by its wideness.

It was at that exact point where I started feeling euphoric again. I’ve beaten cancer to see my final benefits loaded into savings. Three paychecks in March, the tax refund hit, and our company gave us full-timers a surprise $1,000 bonus. Minimal and synthwave finds connected me with some of my best followers here, good times with me and twenty of my other co-workers at my neighborhood arcade, and the record-store victory tour just started. All of my on-going projects at Ω+, VMFX, and WUSB kept me going and proud. My nerves straightened themselves out and for once in my life I was on top of everything. There were no worries, no stress, no pressure. There was only hope. I hit the sweet spot that I been trying to acquire for so long and this was it. I felt like I was the person I always wanted to be. Keep going.

To my right is the Naumburg Bandshell where I did my best to preserve whatever dynamics it presented me with a press of a button. Further I go and I encounter the Besthesda Terrace, a dazzling array that’s been around for almost 175 years. Greeting me is its accompanying fountain where The Angel Of The Waters looks over all of us. A Danish family of four wanted their picture taken together so they asked me kindly to snap them with their camera, which I happily obliged.

It’s 5PM. Joggers and bikers are imminent. Young couples are sitting on the hills admiring the skyscrapers to the south and west side. I let myself get lost as I head north. I reach the Bow Bridge to see a young Filipine couple in their wedding threads have their photos taken. I continue to wander through all the winding pathways and steep hills to find myself at Belvedere Castle which was gated off and closed indefinitely. A few thousand feet later, I stop short at the 86th Street Transverse to catch my breath and pause to experience the current moment of clarity. Robert Viger’s “Limpidite” started to play. The sun’s about to set and it’s getting dimmer. Now was the time to head back.

I didn’t remember the path I took to get here, so what fun I had when I got lost and realized I had to walk the equivalent of thirty city blocks to even reach East 59th Street again which I returned to. I was exhausted and was tempted to take the N/Q/R/W line back to Penn Station, but no. It’s rare for me to be in the city, so why not make the best of it and walk it all back to Grand Central? My time was limitless because I didn’t have to be at work until 1PM the next day. Let’s reverse the process.

I take part in the crowded hustle and bustle of Manhattan. I walk 30 blocks south back to Penn Station for the ride home eastward, still bathing in the new euphoria and pending Spring renewal I just felt. I arrive five minutes to my train, but no big deal. I’m more than happy to re-hydrate with a $2.50 bottle of water and wait around until the Ronkonkoma line arrives. I have another relaxing 65-minute train ride back to Deer Park to cycle through more auditions and selections for the day’s forever soundtrack before it’s gone forever. I arrive on the Deer Park platform and step off the train. I step off the platform and walk through the aluminum overpass and steps onto the parking lot. I get in my car and drive away to sweep up the rest of the way home through the Brentwood streets. 10:30PM and I’m home for the night.

**********

There’s a message waiting for me after I walked in. It’s Holly. She asked how my day was and what I was up to. It was real nice for one of my all-time favorite followers to even ask. I had to reply to her before heading to bed. I also sent her the day’s photos and then asked to see if we could finally meet up. The momentum was stronger and now more essential than ever. I’m thriving for more.

Ghost Spell: “People On The Street”

This Is Hell: “Anarchy On The Atlantic”

Stars Are Insane, The: Versus

Ramleh: “Soundcheck Changeling 2”

Alan Shearer: “Dark Is The Color”

Public Image Ltd.: “Poptones”

Ghost Spell: “Tzz”

Plugz, The: “Red Eye #9″

Jan Jelinek: “They Their”

Pan Daijing: “Female”

Candy: “Rain In Spetember”

Pierre-Alain Dahan & Slim Pezin: “Slim Bertha”

Pisschrist: “Fatal Control”

Alan Shearer: “Only For One Girl”

James Clarke: “Silent Summer”

Thomas Leer: “Saving Grace”

Paul Dupont & His Orchestra: “Lovelorn”

Boy Harsher: “Modulations”

Zola Jesus: “Bound”

Errorsmith: “Superlative Fatigue”

Pisschrist: “Fuck The World”

Alan Shearer: “Generation V”

Joanna Brouk: “The Space Between”

Grey Hairs: “Emergency Banger”

Hogan’s Heroes: “Drugs”

Plugz, The: “Touch For Cash”

Kap Bambino: “More Machine“

Leon Gardner: “Farm Song”

Les Savy Fav: “Hold On To Your Genre”

Marijuana Deathsquads “All Deep”

Red Apollo: “Knife Party”

Stars Are Insane: “I Stayed Up All Night Thinking Of You” (ver.)

Wolf Alice: “Sad Boy”

76% Uncertain: “Coffee Achievers"

Kedr Livanskiy: “Sunrise Stop”

Haircut: “Shutting Down”

Keiji Haino: “See That My Grave Is Kept Clean”

Cabaret Voltaire: Extended Play EP

Candy: “Bears”

Frumpies, The: “I Just Wanna Puke On The Stereo”

Pan Daijing: “Overdose”

Ajax: “Paper And Steel”

Les Savy Fav: Inches

Robert Viger: “Limpidite”

[hyperfixationstation1]

Songs I am begging Les Mis fans to listen to:

I will continue to suggest these songs. You will not be rid of me until I get someone to talk to about this.

Pine Trees by Mary Lattimore - reminds me of Fantine

Going to Sleep - Joanna Brouk - (really I listened to the whole album "Hearing Music" on repeat while reading Volume 1 and honestly it's my go-to album while reading any part with Jean Valjean.

Thank you.

[ourladyofomega]

2018. It was my first time in New York City since three shoulder surgeries and nine months of stay-at-home recovery. The doctor’s office was in midtown Manhattan so I knew to take my kit with me. As soon as my follow-up was over I decided to finally visit Central Park for a photo shoot. The minute I approached the mall was when something bright and shiny hit me: a moment of clarity.

A $1,000.00 bonus, a third bi-weekly paycheck of the month, a tax refund, and shifting extra money into savings. I had a contact with a Brooklyn goth girl who matched me on music taste and exceeded me in much more. I was well underway hitting up almost every record store on Long Island in sight because I promised to treat myself when things got better - and it did.

For the first time in a long time I felt good about something. I held on to the rare experience of feeling hopeful and euphoric. For once in my life I had nothing to worry about and everything to look forward to. When Joanna Brouk’s “The Space Between” plays, it’s a return to one of the best moments of the last decade.

[vyletuju]

Zlatohlávek zlatý z Prahy (křestní jméno nepublikovatelné)

[brouking]

Brouking AI - Winter is coming

brouking.com

[kdo-si-hraje-nezlobi]

Lego: The Insect Collection (3/4)

aka the brouk. Přesněji brouk herakles. Co dorůstá až 18cm, takže tohle je model v životní velikosti

Tentokráte jsme neudělali chybu a vysypali jsme si veškerý obsah sáčku číslo jedna. Pohleďte, budoucí platforma! A dva croissanty?

Funkce croissantů je mi stále záhadou. Pokud teda nemaj být polstrováním. A taky. Ty malý jednobodový cuple na kulatém podkladu? Nejhorší. Část. Vůbec. Ten malej zmetek se tak blbě rve mezi ty čtyry body! Možná za to mohly ruce a možná neostříhaný nehty, ale furt platí, že šlo o nejhorší část.

Nicméně tohle postavíte z prvního sáčku:

Nastal čas na druhý sáček. Za kterého bude postaveno tělo brouka, ale bez křídel a krovek. A taky malé modré houbičky, bo podle lego letáčku z krabice, houby jsou jedna z věcí, co brouk herakles žere.

Jinak. Při stavbě těla jsem poprvé musela použít lego udělátko na rozebírání kostek. A taky mi celý jeden postavený kousek spadl na zem. Ale nic se neztratilo!

A tady, sáček číslo tři. Kdy brouku heraklovi konečně dáme schopnost lítat.

Tadá! Brouk Herakles v plné kráse!

Model má dvě verze. Může buď mít roztáhnutý křídla, anebo se blanitá křídla dají oddělat a krovky se dají zavřít.

Zbylé kostičky pro případ, že ztrácím věci.

Skóre pro tuto stavbu:

Popadané kostky: 5+ (spadl mi celý segment, tak se to těžko počítá)

Ztracené kostky: 0

Doba stavění: 2-3 hodinky? Zhruba

Málem jsem zapomněla. Pohled na brouka zepředu.

Jinak. Tenhle brouk. Má nastavitelné nožky (takže ho můžu dát, jak trhá houby), má pohyblivou pusu/rohu/ty věci na hlavě, i když ne moc, plus má oddělávací křídla, která jsou stejně jako krovky pohyblivá.

[tearsofrefugees]

Burmese Rohingya Organisation UK (BROUK)

For the rights of Rohingya

[xboobayaga]

You should look up Joanna Brouk's album, Sound of the Sea, if you haven't heard it before. Something tells me that it would resonate with you. <3

ohhhh that tickled sth in my brain! thank you so much for your suggestion 🌻 it's def not sth I would have ever looked up by myself, but I find it very very enjoyable, so thank you again 💕

[toappreciatelife]

Carta a Joanna Brouk + penas de amor

Me digo lo que se dice siempre en estos casos. Se irá con el tiempo. El tiempo cura las heridas. Con el tiempo voy a ser capaz de inventar algo. Aunque ahora no lo crea posible, la alegría va a ser de nuevo posible para mí, incluso el amor. Tengo que pasar estos primeros días. Después se irá apagando la intensidad, la brasa caliente. La carne viva va a cicatrizar. Hoy ya fue menos intenso que ayer. Ayer fue menos intenso que anteayer. Hoy tuve momentos en que pude hacer otra cosa y olvidarme. Hoy pude meterme comida en la boca, masticarla y tragarla, incluso con hambre. Y es sólo el tercer día. Esto va a pasar, como pasa todo. ¿Y cómo no va a darme pena que lo que amo se me escurra entre los dedos… de nuevo? Todo lo que amo tiene la consistencia del agua, pero mi pena también tiene la consistencia del agua y ya está pasando.

Joanna Brouk, gracias por haber creado música tan, tan hermosa. Hoy me senté en el piso, en un rincón de la habitación, y escuché algunas de tus canciones con los auriculares. Estaba en un lugar muy oscuro y frío, pero tu música me agarró de la mano y me fue sacando de ahí. Me llevó a la superficie. Me permitió respirar. Me secó las lágrimas y me llevó a pasear por paisajes acuáticos, marinos, de agua tibia y tranquila, llenos de reflejos ondulantes, espuma brillando al sol, barcos y ballenas nadando en calma. Hay una nota grave que a veces aparece sola después de un silencio, como si se alejara unos pasos del chisporroteo de otras más agudas que vienen antes. ¿Era esa la nota que te obsesionaba? No sabés el efecto que tiene ese sonido en mí. Yo también podría escucharla repetirse sin parar. Es el sonido de lo inefable, expresa eso que siempre quiero decir, pero nunca puedo y no sé qué es. Me llena de una calidez tan profunda escucharla. A veces estoy helada, pero tu música es luminosa y dulce, sin ser nunca sentimental. Es demasiado inhumana para ser sentimental. Escucharla es llenarme el cuerpo de luminosidad y dulzura hasta las últimas moléculas. Me gusta que inunde todo mi cuerpo y que el agua de la que estoy hecha se pliegue a los sonidos y formas que creaste. Me gusta que llegue hasta donde está mi pena, que también es de agua, y la ponga a vibrar a otra frecuencia, hasta disolverla. Me gustaría amar como tu música y vivir como tu música. Siento que si pudiera vivir como tu música toda mi vida sería diferente, menos triste.

Escuché que dos barcos solitarios se comunicaban a través del océano con el sonido de sus sirenas. Lo que uno expresaba reverberaba a miles de kilómetros en el otro. Y así durante toda la noche, así durante años y siglos enteros. Lo que uno sentía, el otro era. Lo que uno era, el otro lo sentía. En tu música todo son ecos entretejidos y reverberaciones a distancia. Escuché colores, pero sobre todo movimientos. No sabía que los movimientos pudieran sonar. No meramente producir sonidos, sino ser sonido. Escuché el movimiento del viento zarandeando hojas, calmándose y volviendo a moverlas con mayor intensidad. Chorros de agua subiendo cada vez más alto y deshaciéndose en miles de gotas brillantes. Escuché amaneceres antiguos y ninfas persiguiendo sátiros. Y todo porque estabas jugando, sin otra pretensión más que experimentar y alimentarte de esa alegría que te producía jugar con los sonidos y los sintetizadores. Te daba vergüenza llamarte compositora porque no habías estudiado música, pero además porque no tenías la impresión de ser vos quien componía, sino que eras más bien el pasaje de música que llegaba de otra parte. Lo que creabas no te pertenecía realmente, era música que estaba ahí para todos, como un don.

Me conmueve esta manera en que las generaciones se entregan dones a través del tiempo. Se pasan las obras de lo que pudieron sentir y lo que los hizo vibrar, para que los que llegan después puedan hacer algo con ellas y encuentren allí quizás algún alivio, una nueva vitalidad. Para que yo, que era un bebé cuando estabas en pleno proceso creativo, cuarenta años después esté sentada en este rincón de mi habitación y me pueda envolver con tu música. Y pueda sentir que me sostengo.

Pero, así como empezaste, un día lo dejaste todo para nunca más volver. ¿Cómo es que alguien puede abandonar lo que amaba tanto? “No era sano”, dijiste en una entrevista. La música empezó a intoxicarte, amenazaba con absorberte entera y hacerte abandonar todo lo demás. Escuchabas música por todas partes, tenías miedo de quedarte sorda. Y entonces tuviste que dejarla. Qué paradoja que esa música bellísima y cósmica que a todos nos hace tan bien y que titulaste Healing music, a vos que la creabas al final no te haya hecho bien. Quizás porque no es lo mismo escucharla una vez que ya está toda hecha y nacida que sentirla pasar todos los días por tu cuerpo mientras está naciendo y formándose a partir del silencio. Entonces la dejaste para siempre, cerraste las aberturas por donde entraba y empezaste a meditar, a escribir. Después tuviste un hijo. Y la música quedó guardada en cintas de cassettes arrumbados en cajas. Y ahí podría haber quedado, hasta hacerse polvo, hasta desaparecer de la memoria, como seguramente pasó con tantas obras de mujeres que ya nunca vamos a conocer, si no fuera porque alguien se acordó de esos cassettes que habías grabado y te fue a buscar. Qué alivio: la belleza de tu encuentro fugaz con la música, la belleza de ese amor, está a salvo.

[paintgroove]

Paint Groove Playlist #110 “Sweet Dreams”

Spotify

1. Macula - The Fibonaccis

2. Hybla - Finis Africae

3. Cartas de Apulia - Javier Bergia

4. La côte - Ahmed Malek

5. Jubilation - Norma Tanega

6. Fleetwood Trip L Track - Sensations Fix

7. Going Through the Veil - Becoming a Swan - Joanna Brouk

Apple Music

1. Macula - The Fibonaccis

2. Hybla - Finis Africae

3. Cartas de Apulia - Javier Bergia

4. La côte - Ahmed Malek

5. Jubilation - Norma Tanega

6. Fleetwood Trip L Track - Sensations Fix

7. Ancien automate mexicain - ZNR

8. Going Through the Veil - Becoming a Swan - Joanna Brouk

[omegaremix]

Spring 2018 mixtape:

Stars Are Insane “I Stayed Up All Night Thinking Of You” (demo)

Kajun SS “Know Your Place”

James Clarke “Silent Summer”

Leon Gardner “Who Are You”

Frumpies, The “I Just Wanna’ Puke On The Stereo”

Raveonettes, The “I Wanna’ Be Adored”

Black Dice “Cowboy Soundcheck”

War On Women “Lone Wolves”

Sun Ra Nuits De La Fondation Maeght Vol. 1

Herb Alpert & The Tijuana Brass “Spanish Flea”

Buddy Rich The Bus Tapes

Ghost Spell self-titled

Digital Leather “Ruining Everything”

Black Boot 2013 demo

Plugz, The “Touch For Cash”

Deformity Shards

Ajax 2015 demo

Vinnie Paz “Cheesesteaks”

Robert Viger “Limpidite”

Stiv Bators “It’s Cold Outside”

Frigs “Solid State”

MF Doom & RZA “Books Of War”

Les Savvy Fav “Hold On To Your Genre”

Ros Sereysothea “Kon Komsot”

Blueblack “Branches Broke”

Pat Metheny “San Lorenzo”

Can “Vitamin C”

Versus The Stars Are Insane

Jedi Mind Tricks “Design In Malice”

Wolf Alice “Sad Boy”

World / Inferno Friendship Society The True Story Of The Bridgewater Astral League

Rezzett “Gremlinz”

Boy Harsher “Modulations”

Nick Cave “I’m Your Man”

Boards Of Canada “Orange Romeda”

Cabaret Voltaire Extended Play e.p.

Letlive “Day 54”

Kedr Livanskiy Ariadna

Jan Jelinek “Them, Their”

Thomas Leer “Saving Grace”

Killing Joke “Penny Drops”

Nails Abandon All Hope

Public Image Ltd. “Poptones”

Chris Norwood “The Norwood’s Prayer”

Puccio Roelens “A Silness Song”

Aby Ngana Diop Liital

Curses “Pedal To The Metal And Don’t Look Back”

Keiji Haino “See That My Grave Is Kept Clean” (acoustic)

Azymuth “Jazz Carnival”

Joanna Brouk “The Space Between”

Thomas Leer “All About You”

[hyperfixationstation1]

PLEASE please please listen to Julianna Barwick and/or Anna Von Hausswolff and/or Joanna Brouk I know it’s a long list but please please please please I will get on my hands and knees and kiss the feet of whoever does so I can have someone to talk to about this gorgeous ambient ethereal music PLEASE

More specifically:

Anna Von Hausswolff (who you should listen to because she pissed off French Catholics who call her music Devils music!!!)

More Specifically:

And (because I’m obsessed with it)

AND JOANNA BROUK AHHHH

More specifically (my favorite song to read Les Mis to)

Thank you that is all