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supposed2bfunny · 4 years ago

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2doc Week Day 4-Song Machine

It’s cloudy.

No, cloudy denotes clouds. Smoggy, then. All car exhaust and factory fumes. The water is still, but there’s enough movement that the waves slap against the side of the boat every so often, resulting in a familiar, pleasant, wet sound.

Murdoc lies on his back, hands folded atop his chest, ankles crossed, staring at the bright spot where the sun is attempting to bore its way through the grayish sky.

He and 2D have been sitting in the boat in silence, though the singer has been moving enough for the two of them, playing with his sailor’s cap, untying his neckerchief and stuffing it into his pocket, scratching his ankle, lighting a cigarette and ultimately flicking it into the water.

“So this is it, huh?” Murdoc asks at length when he gets sick of watching 2D struggling in his periphery.

“What?”

“This is what I missed out on?”

“Well I mean, it’s a little more fun when you’re driving around fast-like, but the sound of the motor gives me a headache. And it was fun with Damon too; he’s fun.”

“Yeah. Love that bloke,” he deadpans.

“Murdoc. Do you feel better now?”

“I feel like a million bucks, mate, never better, I haven’t felt this spry since that doctor prescribed me all that Vicodin when I slipped a disk lifting Noodle’s amp—”

“Muds.”

2D shifts, looks down at him, and when their eyes meet, Murdoc is forced to confront the fact that yes, they’re here for him. To humor him the way a parent humors a child after a particularly vicious meltdown. “Well, look at it like this: what did you think taking me out here on the boat after the fact was going to accomplish, sunshine?”

“I brought you here to make it up to you, you nob. Because you made such stink about not being invited last time even though you could have come along if you’d only asked, had my damn phone on me.”

“Stu, you can’t recreate an event that’s already passed by bringing me here like it’s a bloody date.”

He stretches his foot out, knocks it against Murdoc’s shoulder. “You sure? A date on a boat sounds kind of romantic.”

Murdoc sighs and hoists himself up into a sitting position: the garish lighting is hurting his eyes: he wishes he’d thought to pack sunglasses. He can only imagine what kind of migraine the bright glare is going to trigger for 2D. But now isn’t the time to play mother hen. “Does it? Cuz you don’t look nearly as relaxed or happy as you did in that Désolé video, mate.”

He draws his foot back, knees folding in towards his chest. “Muds, look. I’m allowed to have fun without you. There’s no rule stating that I can’t. We’ve talked about the importance of autonomy.”

“And I’ve also expressed my disdain for that bloody word. I’m too old to bother being my own person: I just want a little of whatever you’re doing.”

“So that’s how you really feel, huh?” he snaps, jumping to his feet. “Muds, how many times do we have to have this argument? That’s not healthy!”

“Neither is smoking, Faceache! Neither is drinking half my weight in forty proof before noon! Neither is dating me, so if you don’t want to deal with it, then tell me to fuck off, same way you did when you all fucked off through that portal without me!”

2D reaches up to rub his temples, almost knocking his captain’s hat off his head. It’s never as simple as Murdoc sitting down and confessing that he’s been hurt: it’s always violent waves, outbursts cresting until they crash against the shore. He brought Murdoc out here to see what all the fuss was about cruising around on Lake Como, but now he understands: Murdoc is more like the water than he is like a captain. He is aqueous, ever moving, flowing from areas of high pressure, knocking 2D to and fro as he attempts to feel settled, grounded. The solution to understanding him is seldom obvious at first glance, because his very nature is to change his tune like an ebbing and flowing tide.

This entire outburst was never a matter of feeling left-out, it’s been paranoia from the start, Murdoc’s absurd fear that his own band is set to leave him behind one day, that same paranoia he’s been nursing since The Now Now took off while he was in prison.

“I’m sorry,” 2D says. It used to be hard to say those words. He’s learning to push them out more often, especially because that small concession is, more often than not, enough to start soothing Murdoc. “I guess we both thought we were going to get something different by coming here. Muds, what I did was fly all the way back to Italy to sit on a stupid boat with you for the day. It was probably stupid of me to assume that you were going to have a good time here—”

“‘Stupid’ is a damn gargantuan understatement if you ask me,” he grumbles.

“Don’t interrupt! Look, I didn’t come here for a fun, magical time with you, you cranky old man. I came here to prove a point.”

Murdoc looks at him warily. “And what, my blue-hued compatriot, is it?”

A suave, quick-witted man would be able to weave together an elaborate story on the spot. Hell, if he were even adequately sharp with words, he’d be able to lay on the charm, distract Murdoc from the tension and the muggy heat and the miserable sun glaring down through all that pollution. The longer he stares at Murdoc’s tired features, though, the more it dawns on him that he doesn’t need to do that. He has something much more valuable: the truth.

“I did all this shit to prove to you that you’re worth it.”

Murdoc snorts. “Wow, so even you admit it was a crap trip then. Sorry to waste a full day of your time with my selfish needs, Stu.” He makes sure that his bitterness comes across acrid enough to drown out any traitorous hurt that leaks into his voice. He’s getting weaker around Stu; words slip out unbidden almost every day, truths he doesn’t need anyone knowing, feelings and fears that he’s spent his life concealing easily behind his bigger-than-bigger-than-Jesus personality. Honesty with his feelings around Stu has rapidly evolved into an unconscious mechanism, one he now has to strategize to neutralize at every turn. “Really don’t know why you spent money on a flight, all that time packing, renting the same damn boat, even, if you didn’t want to fucking do it. You’re a real headcase, y’know that?”

“You done with the pity party?” 2D asks. “Because you’re misunderstanding. I did all this, and I would have done anything else, to prove to you that at the drop of a hat, I’ll re-create any part of my life to put you in it beside me.”

There’s a familiar clenching feeling in his chest, a tightness. Dread. Sometimes he feels it when 2D starts to make him hopeful too, because hope is a dangerous bit of deception that leads to disappointment. Cousins, the two sentiments are. Or even twins. He hates hope as much as he hates dread: he’s not about to fall for that shit, no way—“Dents. What were you just saying about our codependency being unhealthy? Those don’t sound like the words of someone autonomous: best check yourself or your therapist is going to give you a right spanking.”

The singer smiles, knowing that he has Murdoc now. His attention, his optimism. It’s all there, in his grasp if he can make like the boat, rock with the waves but remain steady, solid. “You’re wrong,” he says. “I won’t apologize for having come out to have some fun in February. We’ve told you why we didn’t trust you with the portal, but I still would’ve brought you along if I’d known how upset you were going to get. I had every right to have a good time with friends, but I am sorry that it sent you into one of your spirals, thinking I was rejecting you. Never, Murdoc. I would never. So here’s my compromise: for the moments you feel scared, instead of me trying to go back and re-create the past with you, let’s just make our own memories. Sound good?”

The bassist stares at him, dumbfounded. “Are you angry?” he finally asks. “That I’m being so selfish? Where’s your spine, Dents, your bloody vitriol?”

“You’ve always been a selfish prick: bit used to it by now.”

“But…but this flies in the face of all that shit about being more individualistic and—”

“Muds, I’m still going to spend time away from you,” he clarifies. “Have fun with Noods and Russ, might even give Ace a ring one of these days—”

“Oh sweet Satan, don’t call that idiot—”

“My point is, I’ll still do all those things. And then when I get back from my time away from you, whether you’ve done something productive with your life while I was gone, or just sat by the window waiting for me to get home, then we can do something nice too, maybe not a boat ride in Italy, maybe just like, having a few pints down at the Cock and Trowel, or going shopping, or trying that new cafe that opened up in SoHo to see how their pancakes rank on our Definitive List of Pancake Places—”

He’s interrupted by Murdoc lunging forward, arms going around his middle and head slamming into his chest. He grunts, hugs him back as the boat rocks with their sudden movement.

“How?” he mutters. “How are you always so nice to me? Every time I go and muck things up and say horrible things and tell you to break it off with me—”

“You’re a little dramatic,” 2D admits, nuzzling his chin against the thick hair pressed just below his head. “Pretty sure you told me I should call it off when you broke my favorite mug last week. It’s uh, not great. But I think when you say shit like that, it shows me that you really care about our relationship, that you value me, and you’re scared that I’m valuing you too much, because you don’t feel like you deserve it. I’m learning to understand when you’re just asking for help, idiot.”

“You really do spend way too much time with your therapist, Stu.”

“I’m not wrong, am I?” he teases, holding the older man closer, triumphant. “Stop throwing shit fits. Stop assuming everything I do is an attempt to push you away, and start looking at my behavior for what it is: a bloke who’s gone utterly mental and will fly you out to Italy at a moment’s notice to try and cheer you up after I saw you cry a little bit.”

Murdoc steels himself in 2D’s arms, braces himself to put forth the question he needs to ask. “And what do you get in return then, Romeo?”

“That bit’s obvious, Murdoc. I get to see you happy. That’s what makes me happy. I love you, remember?”

“I…” the words die on Murdoc’s tongue. What is there to say to that? He wants to talk 2D out of this…he knows he should. He’s being let off the hook because this idiot is convinced that they can keep going forward, that he somehow deserves 2D’s patience and love, even when he’s getting caught up in his own Twitter lies. Yet the singer’s words are guiding him out to sea, pulling him away with the strength of a rip current, and all he can do is succumb. It’s what he wants to hear. Maybe a part of 2D even believes these words himself, however ludicrous they are. “I…you already know how I feel about you.”

“Say it, twat. Or else I’ll keep you here on this lake all day just to torture you!” “Alright, alright, no need to get so Medieval on me! I love you, okay, Stu? I act out and cause a scene, and then I don’t even thank you for the impromptu Désolé 2.0 because I’m a shit, but I love you all the same. Maybe even a little more because you just keep…tolerating me. Happy?”

“Yeah,” he presses a kiss to the top of his head, and his tone tells Murdoc that he’s smiling. “So let’s go back to England, okay? This lake is pretty boring honestly.”

“It is dreadful, yeah.”

“Oh, while we’re here, maybe we should stop for pizza! Or some spaghetti or something?”

“Dents, we’re practically in Switzerland,” he laughs. “Why not hop the border and—wait, that’s it! I know the perfect spa we can go to together! Ever soak in a hot spring? It’ll change your life.”

“That sounds perfect!” he says. “Let’s dock this baby and get going—” he releases Murdoc and, ever-ungraceful, he stumbles as he makes his way towards the front of the boat. He yelps as his leg catches on the edge of the boat and his vision swirls first with the sights of the houses along the shore giving way to sky, and then the sky blurring as he hits water and starts sinking.

For just a moment, he processes everything as though it’s happening in slow motion, taking in the fact that his nice sailor’s outfit is surely ruined, that the water is colder than he expected it to be, wondering if any sea monsters lurk beneath the lake’s surface as he looks straight down into the black depths below him.

Then comes the irony. Yes, this is what time with Murdoc is like: filled with twists and unpredictable tumbles. Murdoc’s self-doubt and fears are still somewhat new to him: he’s spent most of his life assuming the man was fearless, only to learn that the bravado was a mask, that he’d been one of the few idiots to fall for it so completely. It’s something they must continue to work on, the selfishness, the manipulative words and the self-destructive explosions that follow them in Murdoc’s unhealthy attempts to self-punish.

How peaceful it is underwater, though. How familiar, this sensation, and how safe he feels.

His eyes have closed at some point to better absorb the feeling of being submerged, but he perceives motion right in front of him, bubbles.

Arms come around his waist, and he knows Murdoc has leapt in after him, that he means to swim to the surface, pull them both up onto the boat. He isn’t ready to come up just yet. Instead, he leans forward, presses his lips to Murdoc’s.

In the middle of the water, in the middle of a foreign country, they come together, holding one another tight, safe and soundless in the protective peace beneath the ever-lapping waves.

He always feels so complete like this, so blessedly whole when the warmth of Murdoc’s body is pressed flush against him. Time always seems to vanish in these moments as they share the last fo their breath, hair dancing around their heads like halos, bodies undulating with the motion of the water. For the first time that day, he feels calm.

#2doc #2doc week #2doc week day 4 #2doc week 2020 #niccalpot #2doc fanfiction #ooh this one is rushed but it was fun to write!

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howlingmedic · 4 years ago

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Coming Home: Chapter 5

Coming Home:

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Synopsis: what happens when the person who finally made their world make sense is taken from them? What happens when the people who were supposed find her can’t?

Relationship: Stucky x Angel!OFC

Warnings: angst, references to religion, references to torture, references to wounds, poorly explained technology, probably incorrect science, shifting POV because I’m the worst, my shit writing

A/N: This chapter is two parts. One part is like normal. The other is actually something I wrote a while ago in 1st person from Allie’s POV, and is what inspired this whole story. I tried to change it to 3rd person, and I hated it like that, so I switched it back and left it as is. It also used to be a standalone chapter, but I decided both chapters were too short, so now they’re one weird chapter.

Chapter Five: How they Got Here

“We gonna talk about it?” Bucky asked as they walked to the bikes they had acquired through their travels. Steve smirked. “Talk about what? It was just decorative,” he answered coyly despite knowing full well what Bucky wanted to talk about. The questioning looks had been impossible to miss while they got dressed. Honestly, Steve was surprised Bucky had held his tongue this long. “Steven Grant Rogers, you did not make a design alteration to your uniform based solely on aesthetics after a day like today, now spill,” Bucky huffed as he dumped his essentials in the saddle pocket. “I don’t want to serve the public anymore, at least not today. This is about us. The star… it didn’t seem right, not while I’m being selfish, so I took it off. Now, Let’s get our asses in gear. Jet should be touching down in an hour.” That firmly ended the discussion. It was that simple; Steve’s tone made that part clear, and his expression made it clear they could talk later when all three of them could be involved. Bucky shrugged and swung his leg over the bike. Steve decided in that moment that if they made it out of this, he was buying that man a motorcycle.

Five hours had elapsed since Tony’s phone call. Fury had called and informed them he had returned their status to active duty - Steve only slightly cringed at the comment - and that this was now an official mission. All requisite communication devices and extra weapons would be waiting for them on the jet. They also had been granted the full force of the Avengers - minus Banner, who would be standing by with Loki, Cho, Strange, and an entire med team on a separate jet. They were to meet the team just outside the tiny town they had been using as a base of operations in the southernmost part of Spain. They would then fly to Chad, which was where the heat signature had been. The rest was a rescue mission just like any other, except it wasn’t at all.

The tone on the jet was tense, and the air was electric. Nobody dared to speak a word for the first 10 minutes. Natasha gave Bucky a gentle squeeze on the upper arm, Tony clapped Steve on the shoulder and gave him a firm nod, and Sam gave them both one-armed hugs. Even during those silent exchanges, you could hear a pin drop. Once the jet had reached their cruising altitude, Natasha cleared her throat and stood. “Look, none of us like this situation. We all take this one personally because it is, but we’ve got a job to do. Everyone should have the plan shared to their tablets, I’ll pull it up on the big screen, and we can go over it one more time, but I think we’ve all committed it to memory by now.”

Steve lost track of what she said after that. He knew his part. It was the same as any other mission: use his shield, knock out or kill the bad guys, and don’t die. This time it just had the added task of rescuing the woman he loved. At some point, he stole a look at Bucky, who seemed equally zoned out. Everyone else’s faces were focused intently on their tablets. Natasha caught their gaze and gave them a weak smile; she always had a way of knowing. Once she finished talking, the jet fell silent again. Everyone seemed to be absorbing the gravity of the situation. Steve’s eyes remained fixed on the glowing blue form on the screen that had 45 Amps next to it. He wished they could pull the scan down, that he could forget that reading was far too low. Tony had told them it was one-tenth of what it usually was 6 hours ago. It was another hour of flying to Chad. Steve wasn’t sure if it had changed since Tony had first told them it was low. Nobody had commented on it, so he had to assume everything was staying stable, but somehow having a number tied to Tony’s comments made them more concrete.

Every once in awhile, he saw the form move. The first time it had given him hope. It had proved she was alive. After a little while, he couldn’t help himself, he studied every movement. Sometimes, it was just a shift. Like she was trying to get more comfortable. Others, he saw her jerk, and the number would drop. 45 down to 42, then it recovered to 44. 44 dropped to 39. Steve froze. Bucky looked up and sighed at the screen. Steve wasn’t sure if the sigh was from something Bucky was contending with internally or a reaction to the changing energy measurements. Steve quickly decided he couldn’t care right now, and his attention returned fully to the screen. When the number rose back to 42, Steve decided he preferred things when it stayed in the 40s.

Some of the panic seeped from his mind when the numbers on the screen stopped changing, and the eerily incandescent blob that represented Allie seemed to calm on the sceen. Steve glanced over at Bucky, and smiled softly at what he saw. Bucky’s eyes had fallen closed, but his breathing hadn’t steadied like he was sleeping. If Steve strained, he could hear him whispering. “C’mon, doll, just hang in there. We’re coming.” Then Steve’s eyes flicked back up to the screen eager to see if he might be able to watch Allie react. At first Steve’s heart soared: the number rose slightly to 43. Then, the world froze while the figure on the screen thrashed harder than Steve had seen yet before going inhumanly still. “Bucky! Stop!” Everyone’s eyes went wide, and they stared at Steve, who just gaped and stared at the screen: 43, 39, 35, 20, before coming to a halt at 17. “Fuck, Clint, fly faster!” Steve cried, his voice high and desperate.

The number on the screen didn’t look like it was going anywhere, which wasn’t the best outcome, but it was better than free falling. Bucky sagged in his seat, and Steve blew out a hard breath before he could focus on him. “I know what you were trying to do, babe,” Steve said under his breath so only Bucky could hear him.

“Doesn’t matter what I was tryin’ to do, Steve. Matters that I mighta almost fuckin’ killed her.”

“You had no way of knowing that would happen, so don’t you dare get all hard on yourself now. We don’t have time for that shit right now. We just gotta get in there, get her, get out. We’ve got at most three hours till she’s in the hands of the most capable people in the cosmos and back in our arms. She’s strong. She’ll pull through, pal,” Steve promised and hoped to anyone who was listening that it sounded more confident than he felt.

“Alright, alright, quit bein’ sappy before we go to work,” Bucky snarked. Steve knew it was nothing more than a brave face, but he knew better than to argue right now. Instead, he turned his attention back to the screen. 20 Amps. How many did she need to live?

It wasn’t supposed to go like this. I wasn’t supposed to be laying in a cell, filthy and chained up. I certainly wasn’t supposed to be drained of all my grace to the point where I couldn’t even hide my wings in a pocket dimension anymore. No, it wasn’t supposed to have gone like this at all.

I wasn’t even sure how long I had been gone. Over two weeks, but beyond that, I had no idea. Three weeks? Months? I was reasonably confident it hadn’t reached the point of being missing for years, but it was possible. Without knowing how long I had been unconscious, I couldn’t be sure of anything. Hell, maybe I was dead and in an angel’s version of Hell. Reports of The Empty were sketchy at best, so it was all theoretically possible at this point.

There was a whisper of Bucky’s voice in my head again. It was just barely audible, but he was begging me to hold on, promising me he was going to bring me home. I twisted and writhed against the chains again, felt the edges of the cuffs dig deep into the cuts on my wrists, ankles, and the joints of my wings. I screamed again, and my voice came out raw and broken, and the scream left me coughing and gagging with no moisture left to soothe my irritated throat. To spare what little grace I had left and try to heal it was to risk dying - actually dying… or dying in whatever hellish delusion I was stuck in.

“How the fuck had it gone this wrong? How the fuck did they overpower us, and how did they know about angel cuffs? We had destroyed them all, destroyed any trace of them, and yet here they were,” My brain cycled through the usual questions that consumed my thoughts when I was coherent. Bucky’s voice crying, pleading with me not to let go, cut through the drone of my reflection once more. I ripped against the chains harder in hopes that maybe this time I could break them. I felt my shoulder pop out of its socket, and I tried to scream again, but no sound would come out. I had lost my last asset, my one way to punish my captors. At least my screams made me a nuisance, it made me unpleasant to be around, but now I had nothing. No way to resist them, no way to fight back.

And as if being trapped here wasn’t enough of a punishment, my own brain had finally turned against me. I was hearing my lovers’ voices calling out to me when I knew the cuffs binding me would block any prayers. The only conclusion I could come to as I slipped unconscious again and relived the moments that landed me here one more time was that I had to have lost my mind and begun hallucinating.

It started like any other day of clearing out some cell trying to carry out Thanos’ mission - there had been a surprising number since his defeat and the reversal of the snap. Identify, negotiate, fail to reach an agreement, arrest, clear the base, and destroy it while agents interrogate each member of the cell.

That’s where it had gone wrong. There had been more of them - enhanced members - hiding in a room below the floorboards, and they had ambushed us. Someone strong, stronger than any natural human, had clamped the cuffs tights over my wrists. The sudden lack of grace flowing through me had dropped me to my knees with a shriek, but the others couldn’t come back. They were evenly matched with their combatants. This crew had studied each of us meticulously. They knew what they were up against, and they knew the best way to get to three of the best hand to hand fighters in the world was to take one of them out of the equation and use that to distract the other two. I happened to be the one with a kryptonite.

Whatever had happened next was a mystery. I had come-to in a damp, windowless, and quite possibly subterranean cell somewhere in the Saharan Desert. Food had been chucked my direction once every so often. If it was daily, I had spent at least 14 days stuck in this hell hole hoping someone could find me, and that hope was the last thing I had binding me to any semblance of sanity, but that seemed to have slipped away.

Footsteps. That was the first thought I could form when I came to again. They were drawing closer, and I muffled a scream as I pulled myself into a ball. Maybe if I pretended to still be unconscious they would spare me for a day.

#stucky x reader #Stucky x Angel!reader #Stucky x Angel!OFC #Steve x Angel!reader #Steve x Angel #Steve x OFC #Steve x Angel!OFC #Bucky x reader #Bucky x Angel!Reader #Bucky x Angel #Bucky x OFC #Bucky x Angel!OFC #Angst #Hurt and Comfort #My Writing #Coming Home #Coming Home: Chapter 5

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dustedmagazine · 4 years ago

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Dust Volume 6, Number 12

The Flat Five

It’s November, and the culture is telling us to be thankful again, at least from a distance. We’re a prickly, argumentative bunch here at Dusted, but I think we can all agree on gratitude for our health, each other and the music, good and bad, that comes flooding in from all sides. So while we may not agree on whether the best genre is free jazz or acid folk or vintage punk or the most virulent form of death metal, we do concur that the world would be very dull without any of it. And thus, seasonably overstuffed, but with music, we opine on a number of the best of them once again. Contributors this time include Bill Meyer, Andrew Forell, Tim Clarke, Ray Garraty, Jennifer Kelly, Mason Jones, Patrick Masterson, Jonathan Shaw and Justin Cober-Lake. Happy thanksgiving.

Cristián Alvear / Burkhard Stangl — Pequeños Fragmentos De Una Música Discreta (Insub)

Pequeños fragmentos de una música discreta by CRISTIÁN ALVEAR & BURKHARD STANGL

The acoustic guitar creates instant common ground. Put together two people with guitars in their hands together, and they can potentially communicate without knowing a word of each other’s language. They might trade blues licks, verses of “Redemption Song,” or differently dire remembrances of “Hotel California,” but they’re bound to find some sort of common language. This album documents another chapter in the eternal search. Cristián Alvear is a Chilean classical guitarist who has found a niche interpreting modern, and often experimental repertoire. Burkhard Stangl is an Austrian who has spent time playing jazz with Franz Koglmann, covering Prince with Christoph Kurzmann and realizing compositions that use the language of free improvisation with Polwechsel. This CD collects eight “Small Fragments Of Discreet Music” which they improvised in the course of figuring out what they could play together. Given their backgrounds, dissonance is part of the shared language, but thanks to the instrumentation, nothing gets too loud. Sometimes they explore shared material, such as the gentle drizzle of harmonics on “No5.” Other times, they find productive contrasts, such as the blurry slide vs. palindromic melody on “No6.” And just once, they flip on the radio and wax melancholic while the static sputters. Sometimes small, shared moments are all you need.

Bill Meyer

Badge Époque Ensemble — Self Help (Telephone Explosion Records)

Self Help by Badge Époque Ensemble

Toronto collective Badge Époque Ensemble display the tastefully virtuosic skill of a particular strain of soul-inflected jazz-fusion that politely nudged its way into the charts during the 1970s. Led by Max Turnbull (the erstwhile Slim Twig) on Fender Rhodes, clavinet and synthesizers with members of US Girls, Andy Shauf’s live band and a roster of guest vocalists, Badge Époque Ensemble faithfully resurrect the sophisticated sounds of Blue Nun fuelled fondue parties and stoned summer afternoons by the pool. Meg Remy and Dorothea Paas share vocals on “Sing A Silent Gospel” which is garlanded with Karen Ng’s alto saxophone and an airy solo from guitarist Chris Bezant; it’s a track that threatens to take off but never quite does. The strength of James Baley’s voice lifts the light as air psych-funk of “Unity (It’s Up To You)” and Jennifer Castle does the same for “Just Space For Light” during which Alia O’Brien makes the case for jazz flute — Mann rather than Dolphy — with an impressive solo. The most interesting track here is the 11 minute “Birds Fly Through Ancient Ruins” a broodingly introspective piece which allows Bezant, Ng and bassist Giosuè Rosati to shine. Self-Help is immaculately played and has some very good moments but can’t quite get loose enough to convince.

Andrew Forell

Better Person — Something to Lose (Arbutus)

Something to Lose by Better Person

Like any musical genre, synth-pop can go desperately awry in the wrong hands. The resurgence of all things 1980s has been such a prevalent musical trend in recent years that it takes a deft touch to create something that taps into the retro vibe without coming across as smug. Under his Better Person moniker, Berlin-based Polish artist Adam Byczyowski manages to summon the melancholy vibe of 1980s classics such as “Last Christmas” by Wham!, “Take My Breath Away” by Berlin, and “Drive” by The Cars, reimagined for the 21st century and set in a run-down karaoke bar. This succinct and elegant half-hour set pivots around atmospheric instrumental “Glendale Evening” and features three Polish-language tracks — “Na Zawsze” (“Forever”), “Dotknij Mnie” (“Touch Me”), and “Ostatni Raz” (“Last Time”) — that emphasize the feel of cruising solo through another country and tuning into a unfamiliar radio station. There’s roto-toms, glassy synth tones, suitably melodramatic song titles (including “Hearts on Fire,” “True Love,” and “Bring Me To Tears”), plus Byczyowski’s disaffected croon. It all creates something unexpectedly moving.

Tim Clarke

Big Eyes Family — The Disappointed Chair (Sonido Polifonico)

The Disappointed Chair by Big Eyes Family

Sheffield’s Big Eyes Family (formerly The Big Eyes Family Players) released the rather fine Oh! on Home Assembly Music in 2016. Its eerie blend of folk and psych-pop brought to mind early Broadcast, circa Work and Non Work, before Trish Keenan and James Cargill started to explore more experimental timbres and themes of the occult. Bar perhaps the haunted music box instrumental “Witch Pricker’s Dream,” Oh!’s songs cleaved along a similar grain: minor keys, chiming arpeggiated guitar, spooky organ, in-the-pocket rhythm section, plus Heather Ditch’s vocal weaving around the music like smoke. The Disappointed Chair is much the same, enlivened with a touch more light and shade, from succinct waltz “(Sing Me Your) Saddest Song,” to the elegant Mellotron and tom-toms of “For Grace.” “From the Corner of My Eye” is stripped right back, with an especially affecting guitar line, plus Ditch’s vocals doubled, with the same words spoken and sung, like a voice of conscience nagging at the edge of the frame. It’s a strong set of songs, only let down by the boxy snare sound on “Blue Light,” and on “The Conjurer,” Ditch’s lower register isn’t nearly as strident as her upper range.

Tim Clarke

Bounaly — Music For WhatsApp 10 (Sahel Sounds)

Music from Saharan WhatsApp 10 by Bounaly

The tenth installment in Sahel Sounds’ Music For WhatsApp series introduces another name worth remembering. In case your attention hasn’t been solely faced on the ephemeral charms of contemporary Northwest African music in 2020, here’s the scoop: Each month, Sahel sounds uploads a brief recording that a musician from that corner of the world recorded on their cell phone and delivered via the titular app, which is the current mode of music transmission in that neck of the woods. At the end of the month they take it down, and that’s that. This edition was posted on November 11, so set your watch accordingly. Bounaly is originally from Niafounké, which was the home of the late, great Ali Farka Touré. Since civil war and outside intervention have rendered the city unsafe for musicians of any speed, he now works in Mali’s capital city, Bamako, but his music is rooted in the bluesy guitar style that Touré championed. Accompanied solely by a calabash player and surrounded by street sounds, Bounaly’s singing closely shadows his picking, which is expressive without resorting to the amped-up shredding of contemporary guitarists like Mdou Moctar.

Bill Meyer

Cash Click Boog — Voice of the Struggle (CMC-CMC)

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Last year, Cash Click Boog made a few very noticeable appearances on other people albums (especially on Lonnie Bands’ “Shred 1.5” and Rockin Rolla’s First Quarter) but his own Extras was a minor effort. This Californian rapper was always a dilettante at music, but that was his main appeal and ineradicable feature: you always knew that he’s always caught up in some very dark street business, and he appears in a booth once every blue moon, almost by accident. He is that sort of a player who always on the bleachers, yet when they let him on the field he always does a triple double or a hat trick (depending on a kind of sport).

Voice of the Struggle was supposed to be his big break, the album in which he would expend his gift for rapping while remaining in strictly amateurish frame. Sadly, Boog has chosen another route, namely going pop. He discards his amateur garbs almost completely and auto-tunes every track. If earlier he was too dark even by street standards, now almost all the tracks could be safely played on a radio. The first eight songs are more or less pop-ish ballads about homies in prison, tough life and the ghetto. By the time we reach the last three tracks where Boog recovers his old persona, it’s already too late. The struggle remains but the voice is gone.

Ray Garraty

The Flat Five — Another World (Pravda)

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The Flat Five musters a great deal of Chicago musical fire power. Alt.country chanteuse Kelly Hogan, Andrew Bird collaborator Nora O’Connor and Casey McDonough sing in Andrews Sisters harmonies, while NRBQ mainstay Scott Ligon minds the store and Green Mill regular Alex Hall keeps the rhythm steady. The sound is retro —1930s radio retro — but the songs, written by Ligon’s older brother Chris, upend mid-century American pieties with sharp, insurgent wit. A variety of old-time-y styles are referenced — big band jazz, country, doo wop and pre-modern pop — in clean, winking style. Countrified, “The Great State of Texas” seems, at first, to be a fairly sentimental goodbye-to-all-that song, until it ends with the revelation that the narrator is on death row. “Girl of Virginia,” unspools a series of intricate, Cole Porter-ish rhymes, while waltzing carelessly across the floor. The writing is sharp, the playing uniformly excellent and the vocals extra special, layered in buzzing harmonies and counterpoints. No matter how complicated the vocal arrangements, no one is ever flat in Flat Five.

Jennifer Kelly

Sam Gendel — DRM (Nonesuch)

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Normally, Sam Gendel plays saxophone in a classic jazz style. You might have caught him blowing dreamy, airy accompaniments on Sam Amidon’s last record, for instance, or putting his own spin on jazz standards in the solo Satin Doll. But for this album, Gendel experimented with ancient high tech — an Electro Harmonix DRM32 drum machine, some synthesizers, a 60-year-old nylon-string guitar —t o create hallucinatory fragments of beat-box-y, jazz-y sound, pitched somewhere between arty hip hop and KOMPAKT-style experimental electronics. “Dollars,” for instance, laces melancholy, Latin-flavored guitar and crooning with vintage video-game blips and bleeps, like a bossa nova heard dimly in a gaming arcade. “SOTD” dances uneasily in a syncopated way, staccato guitar runs paced by hand-claps, stuttered a-verbal mouth sounds and bright melodic bursts of synthesizer. “Times Like This” poses the difficult question of exactly what time we’re in—it has the moody smoulder of old soul, the antic ping and pop of lush early 00s electronics, the disembodied alien suavity of pitch-shifted R&B right now. The ringer in the collection is a cover of L’il Nas’ “Old Town Road,” interpreted in soft Teutonic electro tones, like Cluster at the rodeo. It’s odd and lovely and hard to get a bead on, which is pretty much the verdict for DRM as a whole.

Jennifer Kelly

Kraig Grady — Monument of Diamonds (Another Timbre)

MONUMENT OF DIAMONDS by Kraig Grady

The painting adorning the sleeve of Monument of Diamonds is entitled Doppler Effect in Blue, and rarely has the cover art’s name so accurately described the sound of the music paired with it. The album-length composition, which is scored for brass, saxophones and organs, consists almost entirely of long tones that Doppler in slow motion, with one starting up just before another peters out. The composer, Kraig Grady, is an Australian-based American who used to release albums that purported to be the folk music of a mythical land called Anaphoria. Nowadays he has no need for such subterfuge, since this lovely album holds up quite well on its own merits. Inspired by Harry Partch and non-Western classical music systems, Grady uses invented instruments and strategically selected pitch intervals to create microtonal music that sounds subtly alien, but never harsh on the ears. As the sounds glide by, they instigate a state of relaxed alertness that’ll do your blood pressure some good without exposing you to unnecessary sweetener.

Bill Meyer

MJ Guider — Sour Cherry Bell (Kranky)

Sour Cherry Bell by MJ Guider

MJ Guider’s second full length is diaphanous and monolithic, its monster beats sheathed in transparent washes of hiss and roar. “The Steelyard” shakes the floor with its pummelling industrial rhythms, yet shrouds Guider’s spoken word chants with surprising delicacy. “Body Optics” growls and simmers in woozy synth-driven discontent, while the singer lofts dreamy melodic phrases over the roar. There’s heft in the low-end of these roiling songs, in the churn of bass-like synthetics, the stomp of computer driven percussion, yet a disembodied lightness in the vocals, which float in pristine purity over the roar. Late in the disc, Guider ventures a surprisingly unconfrontational bit of dream pop in “Perfect Interference,” sounding poised and controlled and rather lovely at the center of chiming, enveloping synthetic riffs. Yet the murk and roar makes her work even more captivating, a glimpse of the spiritual in the midst of very physical wreck and tumult.

Jennifer Kelly

Hisato Higuchi — キ、Que、消えん？ - Ki, Que, Kien? (Ghost Disc)

キ、Que、消えん？ - Ki, Que, Kien? by Hisato Higuchi

Since 2003, Tokyo-based guitarist Hisato Higuchi has quietly released a series of equally-quiet albums, many on his own Ghost Disc label, which is appropriately named. Higuchi's work on this and the previous two albums of his "Disappearing Trilogy" is a sort of shimmering, melancholy guitar-and-vocal atmosphere — downer psych-folk in a drifting haze. His lyrics are more imagery than story, touching on overflowing light, winter cities, the quiet world, and the transience of memories. As the guitar floats slowly into the distance, Higuchi's voice, imbued with reverb, is calmly narcotic, like someone quietly sympathizing with a friend's troubles. These songs, while melancholy, convey a peacefulness that's a welcome counterbalance to the chaotic year in which we've been living. Like a cool wind on a warm summer evening, you can close your eyes and let Higuchi's music improve your mood.

Mason Jones

Internazionale — Wide Sea Prancer (At the Blue Parade) (Janushoved)

Wide Sea Prancer (At The Blue Parade) by Internazionale

It’s been nearly half a decade since Copenhagen’s Janushoved first appeared in these annals, and in that time, a little more information — and a lot more material — has cropped up to lend some context to the mystery. The focus, however, steadfastly remains with the music — perhaps my favorite of which among the regular projects featured is label head Mikkel Valentin’s own swirling solo synth vehicle Internazionale. In addition to a reissue of 2017’s The Pale and the Colourful (originally out on Posh Isolation), November saw the release of all-new songs with Wide Sea Prancer (At the Blue Parade), 14 tracks of gently abrasive headphone ambient that carry out this type of sound very well. Occasionally there is a piano (“Callista”) or what sounds like vocals (“El Topo”), but as it’s been from the start, this is primarily about tones and moods. Notes for the release say it’s a “continuation and completion of the narrative set by the release Sillage of the Blue Summer,” but it’s less the narrative you should be worried about missing out on than the warmth of your insides after an uninterrupted listen.

Patrick Masterson

Iress — Flaw (Iress)

Flaw by Iress

Sweeping, epic post-metal from this LA four piece makes a place for melodic beauty amid the heaviness. Like Pelican and Red Sparrows, Iress blares a wall of overwhelming guitar sound. Together Michelle Malley and Alex Moreno roust up waves and walls of pummeling tone as in opener “Shame.” But Iress is also pretty good at pulling back and revealing the acoustic basis for these songs. “Hand Tremor” is downright tranquil, with wreathes of languid guitar strumming and Malley’s strong, gutsy soprano navigating the full dynamic range from whisper to scream. “Wolves” lumbers like a violent beast, even in its muscular surge, there’s a slow, anthemic chorus. Likewise, “Underneath” pounds and hammers (that’s Glenn Chu on drums), but leaves space for introspection and doubt. It’s rare that the vocals on music this heavy are so good or so female, but if you’ve liked Chelsea Wolfe’s recent forays into ritual metal, you should check out Iress as well.

Jennifer Kelly

Junta Cadre — Vietnam Forever (No Rent Records)

"Vietnam Forever" (NRR141) by Junta Cadre

Junta Cadre is one of several noise and power electronics projects created by Jackson Abdul-Salaam, musician and curator of the long-running Svn Okklt blog. As the project’s name implies, Junta Cadre has an agenda: the production of sound that seeks to thematize the ambiguities of 20th-century radical, revolutionary politics. The project’s initial releases investigated the Maoist revolution in China, and the subsequent Cultural Revolution of the late 1960s and 1970s. Vietnam Forever shifts topics, to the American War in Vietnam, and tactics, including contributions from other prominent harsh noise acts and artists: the Rita, Samuel Torres of Terror Cell Unit, Leo Brucho of Controlled Opposition and others. Given those names, Vietnam Forever is as challenging and rigorous as you might expect. Waves of dissonant, electronic hum and fuzz accumulate and oscillate, crunching and chopping into textured aural assaults; wince-inducing warbles and needling feedback occasionally assert themselves. Abdul-Salaam’s harsh shout cuts in and out of the mix. The tape (also available as a name-yo’-price DL on Bandcamp) presents as two side-long slabs of sound, both over seventeen minutes long, both completely exhausting. At one point, on Side A, Abdul-Salaam repeatedly shouts, “Beautiful Vietnam forever!” It’s hard to say what he means. An affirmation that Vietnam survived the war? That its people and culture endure? Or that the U.S. can’t seem to shake the war’s haunting presence? Or even a more worryingly nihilistic delight in the war’s carnage, so frequently aestheticized in films like Apocalypse Now (1979), Full Metal Jacket (1987) and Da Five Bloods (2020)? The noise provides no closure. Maybe necessarily so.

Jonathan Shaw

Bastien Keb — The Killing of Eugene Peeps (Gearbox)

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The Killing of Eugene Peeps is a soundtrack to a movie that never was, a noir-ish flick which winds restlessly through urban landscapes and musical styles, from the orchestra tremors of its opening through the folky group-sing of “Lucky the Oldest Grave.” “Rabbit Hole” wafts by like an Elephant Six outtake, its woozy chorus lit by glockenspiel notes, while “God Bless Your Gutters” conjures jazzy desolation in piano and mordant spoken word. “All the Love in Your Heart” shimmers like a movie flashback, a mirage of blowsy back-up singing, guitar and muttered memories. “Street Clams” bristles with funk and swagger, an Ethio-jazz sortee through rain slicked streets. What’s it about? Musically or narratively? No idea. But it’s worth visiting these evocative soundscapes just for the atmosphere. It’s a film I’d like to see.

Jennifer Kelly

Jesse Kivel — Infinite Jess (New Feelings)

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Nostalgia haunts the new solo album from Kisses guitarist/singer Jesse Kivel. Infinite Jess is full of that knowing melancholy of The Blue Nile, Prefab Sprout and The Pale Fountains that was so magnetic to a certain brand of sensitive young thing seeking to articulate their inchoate visions of a future steeped in romance and adventure. Think wistful mid-tempo songs wrapped in cocoons of strummed guitars, shuffling percussion and wurlitzer piano fashioned into a catalogue of adolescent radio memories. These tunes are topped by the understated sincerity of Kivel’s voice and lyrics which effectively evoke the place, time and emotion of his vignettes. The production suffers occasionally from a distracting reliance on too perfectly rendered tropes — overly polite drum programming, thumbed bass, blandly smooth electric piano — but the overall effect is oddly beguiling. Infinite Jess closes with a charmingly wobbly instrumental cover of Don McLean’s “Vincent” played on the wurlitzer that captures the poignancy of the melody and serves as a fitting epilog to the record.

Andrew Forell

Kyrios — Saturnal Chambers (Caligari Records)

Saturnal Chambers by KYRIOS

The corpsepaint-and-spiked-codpiece crowd are still making tons of records, but fewer and fewer of them are interesting or compelling. The retrograde theatrics and cheap pessimism can be irritating enough (I’d rather be reading Schopenhauer, thanks); it’s even more problematic when the songs can muster only the vividness and savor of stiff leftovers from the deep-freezer’s darkest and dankest corners. Still, every now and then a kvlty band that follows the frigid dictates of black metal’s orthodoxy creates a set of songs worth listening to. This new EP from Kyrios is super short, comprising three tracks in just under 10 minutes that pull off that neat trick: when it’s over, you want to hear more. Sure, the dudes in the band call themselves silly things like Satan’s Sword and Vornag, but the tunes are really good. Check out the churning strangeness of “The Utterance of Foul Truths.” Kyrios claims Immortal, Enslaved and Dissection as primary influences, and the band recognizes the stylistic debt they owe to Deathspell Omega (let’s hope Kyrios digs the twisted guitars and weird-ass time signatures, but passes on the National Socialism declaimed by that French band’s vocalist). Stuff gets even more engaging when bleeping and blooping keyboards vibrate at the edges of the mix, giving the songs a spaced-out vibe. “Saturnal Chambers”? Maybe Kyrios has met the astral spirit of Sun Ra somewhere along their galactic journeys into the heavenly void. He liked bleeping, blooping noises and gaudy costumes, too.

Jonathan Shaw

Matt Lajoie — Light Emerging (Trouble In Mind)

Light Emerging by Matt Lajoie

The second volume of Trouble In Mind Records’ Explorers series is, like its predecessor a cassette that comes concealed within a brown slipcase. Like many other discretely wrapped products, the fun is on the inside. This time, it’s a tape by guitarist who understands that toes aren’t just for tapping. At any rate, I think he’s managing his pedals with his feet. Most likely Lajoie has spent some quality time listening to mid-1990s Roy Montgomery. But since a quarter century has passed, he doesn’t just stack up the echoes. Sped-up tones streak across the surface of this music like swallows zooming close to that sheet you hung on the side of your barn the last time you had everyone over for a socially distanced gathering to watch Aguirre, The Wrath of God. Wait, did that really happen? Maybe not, but if someone were to make a fake documentary about the hanging of the projective surface, this music is suitably epic to provide the soundtrack.

Bill Meyer

Lisa/Liza — Shelter of a Song (Orindal)

Shelter of a Song by Lisa/Liza

Lisa/Liza makes a quietly harrowing sort of guitar folk, singing in a high, ghostly clear soprano against delicate traceries of picking. The artist, real name Liza Victoria, inhabits songs that are unadorned but still chilling. She sings with childlike sincerity in an ominous landscape of dark alleys and chilly autumnal vistas. She wrote this album while chronically ill, according to the notes, and you can hear the struggle against the body in the way her voice sometimes wavers, her breath comes in sudden intakes. But, as sometimes happens after long sickness, she sometimes strikes clear of the physical, achieving an unearthly purity as in “From this Shelter.” A touch of plain spoken magic lurks in this one, in the whispery vocals, the translucent curtains of guitar notes, though not much warmth. “Red Leaves” is earthier and more fluid, guitar flickers striking out from a resonant center, and the artist murmuring dreamily about the beauty of the world and its transience.

Jennifer Kelly

Keith Morris & The Crooked Numbers — American Reckoning (Mista Boo)

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It's easy to imagine Keith Morris as perpetually frustrated. His last album, after all, took on psychopaths and sycophants, and the title of his new release American Reckoning doesn't suggest happy thoughts. There's plenty of bile on these five tracks, of course, but Morris approaches the album like a scholar. The opening verse describes the US as “Machiavellian: the mean just never ends” before referencing Othello and Yo-Yo Ma (the latter for a “yo mama” joke). If Morris and the Crooked Numbers just raged, they might be justified, but they'd be less interesting. Instead, they use a wide swath of American musical styles to thoughtfully consider racial (and racist) issues in our contemporary society. “Half Crow Jim” turns a Southern piano tune into a surprising tale about the fallout from slavery. It's a sharp moment, and it highlights that the only disappointing part of this release lies in its brevity. Morris has said he has more music on the way, and if he continues to mix styles, wordplay, and cultural analysis, it'll be worth a study.

Justin Cober-Lake

Tatsuya Nakatani and Rob McGill — Valley Movements (Weird Cry)

Valley Movements by Tatsuya Nakatani / Rob Magill

In most percussion ensembles, the gong-ist is a utility player, charged with banging out a note once or twice per composition for drama and ideally not screwing it up. Tatsuya Nakatani works on a wholly different level, transcending the possibilities of this ancient, archetypical instrument with vision and an unholy technique. More specifically, his set-up includes at least two standing gongs, each about as tall as he is himself. He plays them with mallets, standing between, in blur speed rolls that range all over the surface of the instrument. The sound he evokes is distinctly unpercussive, more resembling string instrument glissandos than any form of drums, a full-on high-register wail of sound that he sculpts and roils and coaxes into compositions of incredible force and complexity. He also plays a bunch of other percussion instruments, little drums and cymbals which he layers on top of each other so that when he strikes one, the others resonate. It is quite an experience to see him at it, and if you ever get a chance, you should go. Here, he works with the saxophonist Rob McGill unfurling a single 40-minute improvisation at a studio in the appealingly named Truth or Consequences, New Mexico. McGill is an agile player, laying alternately lyrical and agitated counterpoints onto Nakatani’s rhythms, carrying the tune and threading a logical through line through this extended set. He finds frequencies that complement Nakatani’s antic, nearly demonic drum sounds and knows when to let loose and when to let his partner through the mix. The result is a very high energy, engaging adventure in sound that evokes a rare response: you wish you could hear the drums better.

Jennifer Kelly

Overmono — The Cover Mix (Mixmag)

Mixmag · The Cover Mix: Overmono

It’s a really weird time to be advocating for club music of any kind, but Overmono’s Everything U Need EP out recently on XL again showcases what the fraternal duo known better as Tessela and Truss do best: melding thoughtful percussion patterns with these airy, gliding synth melodies that work at home just as well as in the club (theoretically, anyway). It’s not just original material they do well, though; whether it was the Dekmantel podcast a few years back or their live cassette from Japan or this mix for Mixmag, Ed and Tom Russell also have a knack for pacing in their sets. This one features stuff from the new EP as well as three unreleased tracks (not counting the Rosalía remix, which remains one of the year’s most addicting) and names both old and new — listen for DJ Crystl’s 1993 jungle jam “Deep Space” sidled up next to Smerz’s new skyscraper “I Don’t Talk About That Much.” If that sounds like everything you need, lock in and let Overmono do the hard work. Truly, they do not miss.

Patrick Masterson

Pole — Fading (Mute)

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As Pole, Stefan Betke’s work has always been both comforting and disconcerting. The amiotic swells and heartbeat bass frequencies generate a warm human feel in his music despite their origins in serendipitously damaged equipment. Fading, his first album in five years explores Betke’s reactions to his mother’s dementia and reflects on the nature of personality, memory and soul. Building on his trademark glitchy beats and oceanic bass tones, the eight tracks echo a consciousness unmoored by the fog of unfamiliarity that smothers and distorts but never completely submerges awareness. “Tölpel” (slang for klutz) evokes impatient fingers tapping out the guilty resentment of the forgotten and the frustration of the forgetful. The title track closes with a woozy waltz punctuated by recurrent sparks. Fading is a deeply felt work; somber, reflective, stumbling towards understanding and acceptance, alive to the nuances and petty nettles of grief and above all beautiful in its ambivalence.

Andrew Forell

Quakers — II: The Next Wave (Stones Throw)

II - The Next Wave by Quakers

After eight years of silence following 2012’s self-titled debut, Stones Throw production trio Quakers (Portishead’s Geoff Barrow as Fuzzface, 7-Stu-7 and Katalyst) dropped the 50-track beat tape Supa K: Heavy Tremors out of nowhere in September and now, just two months later, are back with another 33-track behemoth that allows a litany of emcees to shine. Calling this The Next Wave is a bit of a stretch when you consider many of the voices on here are from guys who’ve been in the game for years or even decades (Jeru the Damaja, Detroit’s Phat Kat and Guilty Simpson, Chicagoan Jeremiah Jae, etc.), but even so, the dusty grooves and Dilla loops prove perfect foils for many of those who hit the mic. My favorite might be Sageinfinite slotting in with the organ grinder “A Myth,” but even if you don’t like it, everyone’s in and out quick. If you’re burned out on Griselda, give this a go for 1990s vibes of a different kind.

Patrick Masterson

Rival Consoles — Articulation (Erased Tapes)

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There are deep pockets of silence in “Articulation,” ink black stops between the thump and clack of dance beat, sudden intervals of nothingness amidst limber synthetic melodies. London-based producer Ryan West, who records as Rival Consoles, layers sound on sound in some tracks, letting the foundations slip like tectonic plates on top of one another, but he is also very much aware of the power of quiet, whether dark or luminously light. Consider, for instance, his closer, “Sudden Awareness of Now,” whose buoyant melody skitters across factory-sized fan blasts of whooshing sound. The rhythm is light footed and agile, pieced together from staccato elements that hold the air and light. Like Jon Hopkins, West uses the glitch and twitch to insinuate the infinite, chiming overtones and hovering backdrops to represent a gnostic, communal state of existence. “Vibrations on a String” may jump to the steady thump, thump, thump of dance, but as its gleaming plasticine tones blow out into horn blast dissonance, the cut is more about becoming than being.

Jennifer Kelly

Sweeping Promises — Hunger for a Way Out (Feel It)

Hunger for a Way Out by Sweeping Promises

The title track bounds headlong on a rubbery bassline, picking up a Messthetick-y blare of junk shop keyboards. All the sudden, there’s Lira Mondal unleashing a giddy screed of angular pop punk tunefulness, her partner in Sweeping Promises, Caulfield, stabbing and stuttering on guitar. In some ways, this band is straight out of late 1980s London, jitter-flirting with offkilter hooks a la Delta Five or Girls at Our Best. In others, they are utterly modern, lacing austere pogo beats with lush, elaborate vocal counterpoints. “Falling Forward” is a continuous rush of clamped in guitar scramble and agile, bouncing bass, anthemic trills breaking for robotic chants; it’s a mesh of sounds that always seems ready to collapse in a heap, but instead finds its antic balance just in time.

Jennifer Kelly

Martin Taxt — First Room (SOFA)

First Room by Martin Taxt

Sometimes a room is more than a room. In the matter at hand, it is a space that proposes a state of mind and a consequent set of experiences. It is also the score for a piece of music that extrapolate that state into the realm of sound. The cover of First Room depicts a pattern of tatami mats that you might find in a Japanese tea room. Martin Taxt is a microtonal tubaist and also the holder of an advanced degree in music and architecture (next time someone tells you that some good thing can’t happen, remember that in Norway you can not only get such a degree; you can then go ahead and present a CD that shows your work. The fault, dear Brutus, is not in the stars, but in our society.). This music takes inspiration from the integrated aesthetic of the tea ceremony, using carefully placed and deliberately sustained sounds to create an environment in which subtle changes count for a lot. The album’s contents were created by mixing together two performances, one with and another without an audience. Taxt and accompanist Vilde Marghrete Aas layer long tones from a tuba, double bass, viola da gamba and sine waves. Their precise juxtapositions create a sense of focus, somewhat like a concentrated version of Ellen Fullman’s long string music, and if that statement means something to you, so will this music.

Bill Meyer

Ulaan Janthina — Ulaan Janthina II (Worstward)

Ulaan Janthina (Part II) by Ulaan Janthina

Part two of Steven R. Smith’s latest recording project echoes the first volume in several key aspects. It is a tape made in small numbers and packaged like a present from your favorite cottage industry; in this case, the custom-printed box comes with an old playing card, a hand-printed image of jellyfish, an old skeleton key and a nut. And Smith, who most often plays guitars and home-made stringed instruments, once more plays keyboards, which enable him to etch finer lines of melody. The chief difference between this tape and its predecessor is the melodies themselves, which have begun to attain the evocative simplicity of mid-1970s Cluster.

Bill Meyer

Various Artists — Joyous Sounds! (Chicago Research)

Joyous Sounds! by Various Artists

It’s been less than two years, but Blake Karlson’s Chicago Research imprint has already made its presence known both in the Windy City and beyond as fine purveyors of all things industrial, EBM, post-punk and experimental electronics. There were two compilations released within days of one another toward the beginning of October, and while Preliminaries of Silence veers more toward soothing ambient textures, Joyous Sounds! is more upbeat and rhythmic (Bravias Lattice’s “Liquid Vistas” is a beautiful exception). My favorite track is Club Music’s “Musclebound” (not a Spandau Ballet cover, as it turns out), but the underlying menace of Civic Center’s “Filigree” and Rottweiler’s pummeling “Ancient Baths” sit alongside merely unsettling fare like Lily the Fields’ “Porcelain” well. If you’re not already aboard or just have a Wax Trax-sized hole in your heart, you have a lot of work ahead of you with this label’s consistently superlative output.

Patrick Masterson

Kurt Vile — Speed, Sound, Lonely KV (Matador)

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Given John Prine's passing from COVID-19 this year, the new Kurt Vile EP might be received as a tribute to the late artist, with extra significance coming from Prine's appearance here. Four years in the works, Speed, Sound, Lonely KV offers more than just tribute, though. Prine's guest spot (if you could call it that) on his own “How Lucky” certainly makes for a moving highlight, the two singers fitting together nicely as Prine's gruff tone balance's his partner's smoother voice. Vile also covers Prine on “Speed of the Sound of Loneliness,” and he adds “Gone Girl” by Cowboy Jack Clement as he takes further cosmic steps.

His two originals here complete the record, and, mixed in with the covers, draw out the lesson. Vile's entire EP blends the country influences with his more typical dreamy sound, the guitar work bridging the gap between a songwriter's backing and something more ethereal. Nashville, it seems, has always suited Vile just fine, and hearing him embrace that tradition more immediately adds an extra layer to his work. Putting a cowboy hat on his previous aesthetic puts him opens up new but related paths for him, and the five tracks here could play on either a Kris Kristofferson mix or a laid-back indie-rocker playlist. Either way, they'd be highlights on an endless loop.

Justin Cober-Lake

WhoMadeWho — Synchronicity (Kompakt)

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Danish trio WhoMadeWho — drummer Tomas Barfod, guitarist Jeppe Kjellberg and bassist/singer Tomas Høffding — make enjoyable indie dance music that suffers somewhat from lack of personality and a tendency toward a middle ground. That may be due to an effort to accommodate a roster of Kompakt-related collaborators including Michael Mayer, Echonomist and Robag Wruhme. While there’s nothing bad and some pretty good here, the individual songs flit by, pausing briefly to set one’s head nodding and feet tapping, before evaporating from the mind. “Shadow of Doubt” featuring Hamburg’s Adana Twins has the kind of driving bass that anchored New Order hits but also, unfortunately, the unconvincing vocals only Bernard Sumner could get away with. More successful moments like the eerie piano riff and jazz inflections of “Dream Hoarding” with Frank Wiedemann, the arpeggiated house of “Der Abend birgt keine Ruh” featuring Perel and miserablist Pet Shop Boys inflected closer “If You Leave” do stick. Synchronicity might work well on the dance floor, but it doesn’t quite sustain at home.

Andrew Forell

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dccrossmusic-blog · 5 years ago

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Well that'a a wrap- the D.C Cross Ecstatic Racquet album tour is complete! Thank you so much to all my new fans and old fans for the support! It was a lot of fun. I probably drove more than 10000 kms for the 9 shows- which is mental..it was all good until the car broke down in Albury on the weekend- keep reading and you can hear about the drama of the last 48 hours in point form!

Thanks to all the nice people, other musicians and venues and sound people and bar people at the places i played at. All thank you for the free beers, dinners and when people let me stay at the venue or their homes for free. Super mega thank you to Dusty Attic Music Lounge , Howl & Moan Records, Petersham Bowling Club, Plantbased Wholefoods, The Merri Creek Tavern , Franks Wild Years, Mounties and the Bridge Hotel Castlemaine (which is impossible to tag on Facebook).

So everyone is always crapping on about stuff that happens to them on social media but the last 48hours of my tour was quite eventful and i think entertaining for others. Here in point form i will mention the unfolding of the events.

Saturday 3pm Show in Thirroul - Sunday 3pm Show in Castlemaine, Victoria - a bit of driving (about 1700 kms there and back to Sydney) but pretty straight forward- right..what could possibility go right :/

•drive from Marrickville to Thirroul - so far so good

• play a cosy show to some nice people at Franks' Wild Years- very impressed german guy says that i am a beautiful musician and play the guitar like John Frusciante from the Chill Peppers - Brad other founding original member of Gerling comes to the show-a wonderful gesture of support

•Finish show in Thirroul and with a broken GPS head on the drive to Castlemaine, Victoria (about 845km's).

•Get tailgated on the Bulli Pass by some tradie fuckhead- a bit of an anxious 10 minutes but make it okay - our faithful 2004 Holden still seems to be okay.

•Drive for 5 hours on route to Albury as its more than halfway.

•100 kms out of Albury car starts shaking uncontrollably - i thought it was just the Hume Highway - so just cranked AC/DC and LANKUM new album on the distorted car stereo.

•60 km's nearer Albury situation with car gets worse- now know it was a busted CV crankshaft (no idea) and apparently quite dangerous

•Navigate car into Albury and call road side assistance. Sounds like i get a drunk Andrew Jackson Calvert type guy on the phone who relishes in the fact he can say that they can't help me and can tow the vehcile to a mechanic on Monday morning. It's 9.30 Pm Saturday night

•Find the cheapest accom in Albury -$66 a night and stay above a 2 floored techno beer barn full of teenagers on MDMA and very loud party remix / techno music going on. The room looks like was last renovated in the 1950's.

•Call the only guy i know in Albury and hit the RSL after Ross Wilson had just played. Didn't see Ross and damn glad i didn't hear 'Come said the Boy' the second most dodgy song in Australian Music History.

•Stash broken down car in Coles car park. Got to bed in backpackers with Digitalism's - Zdarlight blasting through the building.

•Awake sunday morning and hire car and drive to Castlemaine.

•An hour out of Albury a crazed fucktard - Chopper Reid vibe guy - cruising along in a shitbox Commodore with two kids bikes strapped to the back - a blue bike and little pink bike gets upset that i overtake him on the freeway. As im overtaking he speeds up- i was wasnt really checking my rear view mirror as as i was looking straight ahead to overtake- pretty legit an safe driving from me- anyway, Chopper Reid speeds up and whist i'm overtaking and gets really really mad..i do the thumbs up mate sign and makes him even more angrier..he follows my agrresively for the next 200 kilometres.. very intimidating - the most alarming thought of this was if he is driving so recklessly with two small kids in the car (nee the bikes) imagine what he would do if he caught up to me after 2 hours of full on road rage anger. Yep just what i need right now- anyway decide to James Bond him and speed up so he cant see me, speed into a truck parking side station behind a bunch of bushes- wait till i see him fly pass - teeth grinding trying to find me. Wait 5 minutes and commence my ongoing, fun-filled journey

•Castlemaine Bridge Hotel is a lot further than i calculated. And a path i have never journeyed before- no GPS is making trickier.

•3 hours later -- I ARRIVE! PHEW.

•The Bridge Hotel Castlemaine is a safe haven of coolness in all the chaos.

•Meet old friend Casey Rice at the Bridge Hotel and play two sets of my music to people actually listening to my songs- made the ordeal worthwhile and Skyscrapper Stan aka Stan Woodhouse - the kiwi songsmith works there as the barman- equally parts good and evil - that guy is a crackup..easing into the afternoon with a free pint of something, some comedy gold from Stan and a half price healthy dinner with green stuff in it (maybe vegetables- not on a burger bun so im a bit confused how to eat it ).

•Stay the night above the venue and get up at 4am to drive car back to hire car place. Venues alarm system goes off when i'm having a shower…find the exit and leave gracefully

•On the drive back to Albury - around 4.35am my phone GPS stops working and end up on some lonesome unused highway in a State Forrest in the middle of nowhere - using just my instinct to try and navigate back to Albury

•See a giant Pink moon setting over the trees in state forrest - i think heading towards Canberra (no idea) and makes the trip worthwhile

• Two massive kangaroos leap across the road just seconds away from me, right in front of the car- it's still pitch black - i narrowly avoiding hitting them (a split second before this happened a voice in my head said slow down, be careful, i dont wanna kill no kangaroos) - maybe it was the kangaroos mystical vibe -im not sure but seemed like divine intervention for the next 3 hours that we all survived.

•Some how make it to Heathcote, Victoria and get directions to the Hume Highway by a lady working at a servo with a magical hair braid getting hit on by the local milkman (why do all milkman look the same??) . I've never been happier to see the Hume Highway in my life. Listen to Highway to Hell - AC/DC on cd - my close friends mum gave my as a birthday gift she got from her work - a catholic girls schools - the library was throwing the cd out. Also LANKUM new song 'Wild Rover' that sounds equal parts Irish Rebel folk heroes/ Dirty Three and Tool - I'm having a moment.

•Eventually get back to Albury, put all my guitars and merch and amp back in broken car and return the hire car which was three times the amount i thought it would be cause i had driven extra kilometres.

•Get back in my barely drivable broken down car - Monday morning trying to find a mechanic in Albury to repair car. •Seems all mechanic in Albury are too busy- we can fix the car in 5 days time or are on holidays… Stranded far from home….

•Finally find a mechanic on the outskirts of town who can fix the car- drive barley drivable car around Albury trying to find the mechanic- stressing out front wheels will fall off - takes about 20 minutes without gps and hats off the bloke who gave me the best directions of my life to find mechanic.

•Mechanic looks at car and says its my lucky day - they have the spare part in Albury -which is very rare … a new crank shaft (no idea) - and he can fix it straight away ($500 seems reasonable ).

•Wait 5 hours in the belting Albury sun. Eat the biggest and best potato scallops ive ever had (from North Albury) and presto- hand over credit card and Car is fixed. Drink 2 litres of hot Mountain Dew and drive 6 hours and arrive home safely.

• Triumph scene from Rocky -Bill Contis 'Gonna Fly Now (Theme from Rocky) plays out in my head as i drink a beer and lie on the couch. Maybe next time i will fly.

• And thats what it takes to play two shows as an underground cult folk musician in Australia.

• Get Ecstatic

• And please buy my album on bandcamp to help pay mechanic - maybe a Xmas gift, coming of age …. en vogue vinyl experience

•Remember kids, "It's a JUNGLE out there!".

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3monthsineurope · 5 years ago

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June 1, 2019

Ingvar and I woke up at 4 am Saturday. Wowowowo that’s early! Ingvar and I had spent the week moving his stuff out of his old place, and some of it into mine. He’s spending a few weeks with me in my room, before he leaves for Hawaii for the summer. It’s really nice that he was taking me to the airport! I had packed almost all of my things the night before (and rather well, I might add! I only had four outfits for the weekend packed!), so we left my place around 4:20. We stopped and got gas, and then wanted Starbucks, but all of them were closed in Bellingham!

We hit the road to Everett. I was so excited to try out the new airport! There was no traffic that early, and we ended up stopping at Starbucks in Burlington. Ingvar got a $75 gift card when he left Bank of America (Wednesday was his last day!), so it was his treat. We got to Everett around 5:45, an hour and fifteen minutes before my flight. You can’t do that when you fly out of SeaTac! I said “see you tomorrow” to Ingvar (it was such a short trip but I was happy about it), then checked out the airport.

Security took about five minutes and there are only two gates. The airport felt very much like a lounge! It had fireplaces and a bar and nice couches. I did my make up, then got assigned my seat, 19a. It was a smaller plane, only two seats per row, and only about twenty rows. I boarded the plane, and we took off around seven. I tried to sleep the whole flight, since I slept only about four hours the night before, but the plane was really chilly! I probably got an hour of sleep, which is better than nothing, I suppose.

I landed at LAX around 9:30. I grabbed Starbucks for Haley and I, then she picked me up. It was a good to see her, but the cruise was only about two weeks prior, so it hadn’t been long. We had a busy day planned! We called and talked to Mom and Dad on our way to Haley’s place, where we changed and got ready to go to Universal Studios! I was seriously amped to go to the Wizarding World of Harry Potter! Dad paid for our tickets, since we didn’t go to Universal Studios Orlando, which was really nice! Thanks Dad! We took a Lyft to the theme park, since Haley lives so close, and then we wouldn’t need to deal with parking.

Universal Studios has an area around the park with restaurants and stores, called the City Walk. It’s kind of like Downtown Disney in Anaheim and Disney Springs in Orlando. We saw butterfly mural that was done by the same artist the Taylor Swift commissioned for her butterfly mural in Nashville, so that was a cool surprise. The weather was pretty chilly for LA—65! We were wearing sweatshirts, haha. Our main goal was to see Harry Potter World! We went right there and I was amazed! It really felt like I was in the movies! Haley and I got in line for the 4D ride, Harry Potter and the Forbidden Journey. I was a littler nervous because I don’t love those rides, but I wanted to try! The line was almost an hour and a half! The ride was pretty scary! Haley and I thought it would be like Soarin’ Over California at California Adventure, but it was must more interactive! I had to close my eyes for some of it, and I’ve basically decided that I don’t want to do 4D rides anymore, haha.

We had a bathroom break, then tried butterbeer! I had the slushee version and Haley had the cream soda version. It was actually so tasty! It was butterscotchy and super rich. We were hungry, so we shared a hot dog and chips, then went for the next ride, the Flight of the Hippogriff. It was a small roller coaster but it was actually really fun, and a much shorter wait! We checked out Olivander’s wand shop, and some other shops. I ended up getting a Griffandor shirt and a Hufflepuff keychain (I’m a Hufflepuff, so I was in disguise in the shirt, hahah). Haley and I took photos in front of Hogwarts, then wandered around the rest of the park. There were Simpson’s, Minions, and other areas. The Jurassic Park ride was closed, otherwise we would have done that! Haley got a hat and some candy, and we took photos with Shrek! That was so funny, haha. We walked around the whole park, then decided to go home to take a quick break and change for the reason I was in LA—Wango Tango, a music festival!

We took a Lyft home and saw Andy for a bit. He had bought a ticket with us, but couldn’t get his shift covered, which was a real bummer, since we saw Taylor Swift in concert at the Rose Bowl, last year, the three of us. I laid down for a half hour, then Haley and I changed and waited for her friend, Alexandra. Andy gave her his ticket, isn’t that nice? The three of us took a Lyft to Carson, where the concert was, at Digital Health Sports Park, formally StubHub Center.

The ride took about 45 minutes. The line for Wango Tango was insane! It took us about half an hour to get in, even though the doors had opened an hour earlier, at 5:30. I had wanted to arrive early, to see some of my swiftie friends, specifically the ones I went to Pittsburgh with, last August. It was almost seven when we got in, so we decided to get some logistics out of the way before getting to our seats. We got our wristbands to access our floor seats and took photos with the Wango Tango sign. We went to the bathroom and got drinks and food. Haley and I shared a mini cheese pizza and it was actually so good! We made it down to our seats and they were pretty good, I was so happy! We had the isle of row 9, in the second section back from the stage! I had better seats for the reputation tour, but they were still really close! Haley and Alexandra has never had such good seats, so that was really cool!

The concert was amazing! 5 Seconds of Summer was first, and I knew a few of their songs. Next up was a kpop (Korean pop) band, called Tomorrow X Together. They were really good dancers! I went up to the food area and met two girls from Twitter, Lee and Jordan, and that was really fun! Fletcher went next, with her song, Undrunk. It was so fun to be dancing and having fun with everyone! Alexandra is trying to make it in the music industry, so she was really fun to be around at, at a concert. Next up was Ava Max, who has a really popular song, Sweet But Psycho. My friends Matti and Bianca came and found me, and it was good to see them!

Ally Brooke came on next. I didn’t know any of her music, but she is a former member of Fifth Harmony. It definitely seemed like she was lip syncing, which was a bummer. She brought out Tyga, a rapper, for a song, and then it was onto the next, Halsey. Halsey has a ton of radio hits, and she put a really good show! Near the end of her set, we ran upstairs and went to the bathroom before the final acts, got a churro and some carne assada fries to share, and Haley and I both got Wango Tango long sleeves. It was a successful trip!

The next act was Zedd. Zedd is a DJ, and really famous. He put on a fun set with a ton of poppy songs mixed in. For some reason John Stamos introduced the next band, the Jonas Brothers! They recently got back together and haven’t put on many shows since then, so the crowd went wild. They played their new songs, Sucker and Cool, and some old ones, like Year 3000, which was so fun to dance to! Also, Hannah B., the current bachelorette on ABC was there and did an introduction, which was cool.

Finally, Taylor Swift was the final act. The reason I was in LA! She came out in a super cool rainbow outfit with a ton of fringe. It was amazing to see her again! The last concert I saw was in Pittsburgh, in August. She opened up with Shake It Off, and I was so happy! She played eight songs: Shake It Off, Blank Space, I Knew You Were Trouble., Love Story, Delicate, Style, We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together, and Me! Me! is her newest single, for her seventh album, but that’s all we really know! We don’t have an album name or release date, yet. Brandon Urie, the singer of Panic! at the Disco, is featured in that song, and she brought him out to sing with her. It was amazing to see her preform Me! for one of the first times live. A couple times a camera crew was filming me during Taylor Swift, especially when she was surprising us with We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together. I hope I can find that footage sometime!

After Me! Wango Tango was done. Of course, she ended the show with confetti. There were so many swifties that it felt like a Taylor Swift show, which was really cool! During Delicate at the reputation tour, the fans would scream “1, 2, 3, let’s go bitch!” in a pause (don’t ask, haha), and everyone did that at Wango Tango, which just shows how many swifties were there!

After the show ended, we waited for Sergio. We went to Pittsburgh together, so it was so good to see him! He had seat filler tickets, and was lucky enough to have pit tickets near the cat walk! That must have been so amazing! He was taking a Lyft home with us, so we could catch up, since I didn’t get to see him during the show. There wasn’t a designated ride share lot, so a security guard told us to go to the nearby 7-eleven, so that’s what we did. I guess Carson isn’t a great area, so I’m glad it was close by. Haley’s phone was the first to connect to a driver, so she took care of that for us. The ride back to Haley’s was much shorter than the drive to Carson, and we didn’t even have to wait long at the 7-eleven. Sergio and I got to catch up, which was so nice! He is a really genuine guy that I truly consider a friend.

There was some drama on the way home, though. Alexandra found out that her boyfriend had been lying and possibly cheating on her. Alexandra and Haley had been blocked for a social media post, but using my phone, she was able to see her boyfriend “dancing” with a “friend”. Alexandra is a big personality, so she called her boyfriend and his friends and her mom, and broke up with him. Wow, that’s really sad! We all got out at Haley’s, and Sergio took a short ride home. I’m so thankful that I got to see him!

Alexandra came up with Haley and I, and was definitely going through some hard stuff. Haley and I got ready for bed (I was sure tired!). We tried to console Alexandra, but there wasn’t much we could do to make her feel better. Around 1:30, she took a Lyft home, and Haley and I immediately fell asleep. Honestly, it was an amazing concert and I’m so glad I flew down for it! :]

#taylor swift #wango tango

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kreuzfahrttester · 15 days ago

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Neue Costa Toscana Fly & Cruise-Angebote: Entspannt ins westliche Mittelmeer ab Düsseldorf

Costa Kreuzfahrten bietet ab Mai 2025 ein exklusives Fly & Cruise-Programm für die Costa Toscana, das Gästen die Möglichkeit gibt, das westliche Mittelmeer komfortabel zu bereisen. Dank Direktflügen von Condor ab Düsseldorf können Reisende ihren Urlaub von Anfang an genießen und an Bord des Flaggschiffs eine Vielfalt an Attraktionen erleben – von kulinarischen Genüssen bis hin zu atemberaubenden…

#Condor Charter #Costa Kreuzfahrten #Costa Toscana #Direktflug Düsseldorf #Fly & Cruise #Frühbuchervorteil #Italienisches Lebensgefühl #landausflüge #Mittelmeerkreuzfahrt #MyItalian-Genusspaket #Nachhaltigkeit Kreuzfahrt #Urlaub 2025

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thesunlounge · 6 years ago

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Reviews 237: Ai

I’ll never be able to resist the wild and freaky prog, psychedelia, and space music that came out of Germany during the 70s. It was this perfect convergence of psychoactive substances, futuristic electronics, spiritual mind expansion, and rock’n’roll shamanism that produced some of the music I cherish most and while there are many great examples of artists exploring this sound in the modern era, very few have overwhelmed me with krautrock and kosmische perfection like Ai. The collective of Matt Flores, Frank Bauer, Andreas von Hillebrandt, and Shunsuke Oshio first appeared on Slowboy Records’ Kingii comp in 2012 and followed that up three years later with “Anima Itako” on Theme for Great Cities’ third Mogul release. This track then appeared later in 2015 when Ai issued their debut self-titled full-length on Hauch, which was deep and far-out trip into motorik trance rhythms, space riff percolations, kaleidoscopic synthesis, and amorphous starscape bliss outs that could equally soundtrack post-rave chill-out rooms and planetarium laser shows. For their second album II released at the end of 2018, Ai explore these same sonic spaces, but a slight change in personnel has augmented the sound in new and surprising ways. As opposed to their debut, Shunsuke Oshio only appears on four of II’s seven tracks and much of the guitar work has been transferred to new member Nima Moussavi, who brings a muscular 70s space rock riff energy as well as an even more pronounced level of interstellar prog majesty and funk and fusion fire. And in the shimmering “Amberica,” Amber Pine’s whispered vocals lead an etheric float down a river of dream-pop radiance.

Ai - II (Hauch, 2018) “Ai Theme” sets the stage with sweeping filters and sea blue hazes swirling above a balearic dreamscape. Downbeat electro-drums pound majestically through aquatic cloudrealms and vaporous pad washes smear together with romantic guitar atmospheres, with everything slowly phasing from one ear to the other. Chiming bubble melodies drift towards a sunburst sky while searing static waves swoon through romance motions and as we move towards the end, outerspace voice transmissions are surround by ever-evolving layers of oceanic mesmerism. At the other end of the A-side sits the gleaming pop of “Amberica,” which starts with a radiant soudbath of deep space filtering and chittering feedback. A dopamine drumbeat enters and cruises on light kick taps and air cracking snare smacks as dreamy vibraphone synthetics melt down from the sky. Heatwave brass layers swell around vibrato guitar weavings that at times evoke some sort of futuristic recollection of patriotic Americana, but this vibe is soon worked against by Amber Pine’s subversive and feminist beat poetry spells, which are delivered via sensual breaths and ambivalent whispers. She’s surrounded by immersive layers of shoegazing bassline funk, all subterranean sustain and riffing vibrations moving beneath wavering currents of guitar shimmer. I’m reminded of Amp, Bowery Electric, Jessamine, very early Spiritualized, and so much else from the golden age of pop-kissed 90s space rock, especially as Shunsuke Oshio radiates golden guitar magic that vibrates in tune with the universe while misty-eyed bassline lyricisms swim upwards through glowing reverb hazes.

In between “Ai Theme” and “Amberica” sits “Aruki Ikura,” where wind blown chimes and rustic guitars give way to riffing bass guitar heat and a mutant breakbeat riding on dazzling snare rolls and sizzling hat patterns. Frank Bauer’s ethereal prog organs descend and blistering noise waves swell while a spellbinding synth sequence works through the sky…starting subtle but slowly growing into a vocal strand of space acid magic that snakes continuously through the mix. After a rhythmic pause, the track erupts into pure motorik perfection with fat-bottomed basslines chugging beneath tight hypno-riffs and drums locking into an energetic krautrock stomp. The vibe sits somewhere between Neu! and Hawkwind, all pastoral psych magic intertwining with chugging space rock fire while phaser morphed organs fly through the sky. The Michael Rother airs are all the more pronounced when vaporous wah-wah licks enter, setting the stage for Nima Moussavi’s molten fuzz solo magic. Dreamy wailing guitar leads trail polychromatic tracers as the ultra-tight jam underneath threatens to explode, with massive drum fills and snare rolls surrounding liquid basslines as they slip and slide through LSD groove motions. Then the song fractures and fades into mist, before snapping back to life with a downbeat stoner funk jam out. Crystalline clean guitars underly moaning fuzz leads that play themes for majestic cloud kingdoms and eventually, Matt Flores works his rhythms back into a sunshine kosmisch glide while interstellar keyboard layers float the soul. And as we work towards the end, epic harmonizations and dueling leads locking together and climb towards a starscape horizon.

The first track on side B is split across three parts, with “Akai Indigo” seeing insectoid oscillations locking in with a fusion breakbeat jam-out. Snares skitter around tight kick and hat patterns while guitars drop deep blue shadow swells over exotic bass guitar walks. The panning oscillations grow ever more intense as they swim through distorted synth dream weavings and eventually the drums work into an upbeat gallop with off-beat snare flourishes and rhythmic clacks cutting through futuristic melody hazes and phaserwave oceans. Moving into “Akai Indika,” chugging bass riffs, technoid kraut-disco rhythms, and percussive dial tones slam through a black haze nightscape and evoke Heldon soaring at hyperspeed. Shakers pulse ecstatically as alien oscillations chitter and laugh and there’s so much magic in Andreas von Hillebrandt’s basslines…like Jannick Top locked into a hypno-groove disco ritual. As clanging chimes lock into an Afro-folk starscape, layers of resonance grow in strength, causing the synths to sound like glowing balls of energy bouncing through a galactic tunnel. And after dramatic horror-prog chords flow down from dark skies, we transition into “Akai Indigo (Reprise).” It’s a return to a world of jamming psych basslines and splattery swinging drumbeats, though it’s all somehow more lo-fi than before…like far-out garage rock blasted onto the surface of the sun. Burning waves of guitar sorcery melt over the mix and eventually move through rippling wah-wah motions and reality tearing phase-shifts and near the end, galactic synth solos bring dark funeral enchantments before it all disappears into self-oscillating smoke.

Reso-filtered machine cymbals and paranoid percussion energies give way to dubwise basslines and phaser-blasted hi-hat chaos in “Aleister Instamatic,” while melodic electro-tom cascades circle overhead. Unintelligible voices beam in through shortwave radios as a sped up break beat enters, with switching and smacking snare magic intercutting deep bass drum thuds. Sequences flash overhead and recall the crazed lines dominating “Akuri Ikura”…as if playful electro-spiders are crawling across the mind…while skronked out guitar chords sit beneath cymbals splashes that are increasingly shrouded in galactic static. We then sweep upwards into a swooning robot romance chorus with Frank Bauer’s melancholic vocoder melodies melting the heart until the track cuts into a wild guitar passage filled with wah-wah trance vibrations, violent flanger and phaser oscillations, and bubble-form delay clouds. Everything eventually breaks down into crazed plastic crinkles and metallic liquid noise, with bass guitars chugging through a nightmare landscape. But as kick drums push dark clouds of reverb, the basslines are progressively reduced to abstract picking sounds and acoustic string vibrations before fading away almost entirely, leaving guitar mirages flashing side-to-side while incandescent hums emanate from deep space. Angry screams and cosmic wind gusts surround crazed guitar loopings and everything stretches and smears out, with heatwave noise blasts growing in strength as the skittering beats return. And after a sharp pause, we explode once more into the climactic vocoder chorus, now with sweeping string synth orchestrations raining down from the heavens and leading into a gemstone piano solo coda.

“Anikulapo Immortal” starts in a world of smokey lounge jazz as basslines wander apart from tapped cymbals and midnight guitar chords. Anxious synth repetitions, floating aqueous hazes, and clattering rimshots move thorough air-sucking delay and reverb fx and Von Hillebrandt and Flores are in spiritual communion, with pulsating basslines supporting funked out tom-tom tribalisms. And as vocal breaths are spectrally morphed while deep space guitars shimmer like stars, I’m reminded of the ethnological forgery freak outs of Can and Amon Düül II and the side-long epics of Earthless. Galactic drone waves enter while the ecstatic groove motions flail ever forwards and there’s a growing sense of anticipation leading to a slow-burn explosion of dreamworld psychedelia and underwater jazz, wherein gemstone guitar strands are woven from liquid arpeggiations and spaghetti western slides. Then we transition sharply as low-down bass riffs stomp through a solar ascent, with palm-muted echo riffs, synth squiggles, and zany e-pianos floating on water waves. Flores revels in ride cymbal fire and revolving tom majesty while trancey pad smears and staccato riff bursts interlock with thunderous bass riffs….the whole thing evoking the hypno-prog and NWOFHM of Circle. Eventually the jam transitions from militant cosmic ritualism to post-rock majesty as Von Hillebrandt’s bass climbs through lyrical fantasias and leads us again into a passage of joyous pop-psychedelia and aquatic jazz, where haunted pad gases, e-piano vibrato weavings, chiming percolations, sliding guitars, and swinging cymbal and snare rhythms sit below distorted piano notes that seem to decay across the galaxy.

The track then shifts into a patient kick drum march with airy hi-hat taps fluttering and bewildering tom fill madness building in from the depths. Smoldering guitars riffs and shimmering cymbal taps cut through fogs of synth chaos, galactic reverb blasts, sci-fi chime cascades, and blistering filter weirdness and there’s so much ecstatic percussive energy as polyrhythms fly out in all directions. The bass guitar stomps and storms through the sky as the melodic layerings seem to devolve into clicks and scrapes. Then all of a sudden, a blazing guitar solo rips through the fabric of spacetime with bridge pick-up western twang and surf blues spiritualism smothered in slapback echo and white light vibrato fuzz. Breaky drum beats ride on golden cymbal taps and hypno-snare smacks while tambourines jangle joyously and wah-wah clicks flash across the spectrum. The rhythm guitars vibe out with bluesy hammer-ons and interstellar funk wiggles and Von Hillebrandt’s bass locks in and harmonizes with the sun-soaked psych soloing as the mix grows ever more anarchic and free, moving especially far-out once mind-melting organ drones blast in…their longform chordscapes drifting over the mix like muted rainbow light. And there’s a thrilling sense of transition, with the spirit being surrounded by aquamarine crystal hazes, searing feedback spirals, and crashing and thrashing cymbals as Ai work miraculously back towards that irrestible dreamwave psych and ocean jazz sway…a seamless transition from shamanic and shambolic psych bombast to instrumental pop enchantment.

The album closes with “A Huge Structure Far Behind the Sun,” which earns the Orb-ian evocations of its title by foregounding a pulsating sequence that is continually worked through otherworldly filter and envelope modulations in a way recalling “A Huge Ever Growing Pulsating Brain that Rules from the Centre of the Ultraworld.” All around swirl primordial drones, UFO whooshes, ethereal washes of static, and hovering angel atmospheres as twinkling synth-pianos radiate webs of crystal. Warm swells of distortion break free from the rhythmic swirl of planetarium phase-shifters and the soul glides eternally on soft feedback pulses, filter morphing wave fronts, and layered strands of electronic fire…all while the hallucinogenic lead sequence morphs through long flowing decay trails and sharp staccato percolations. At some point, the bubbling yet subtle currents of rhythm give way to amorphous mermaid dirfstscapes, whale song oscillations, and deep sea lullabies that bring to mind Michael Stearns, Tangerine Dream’s Zeit, Seahawks, and Anna Själv Tredje. It’s pure psychoactive ritualism submerged within an underwater dreamscape where infinite webs of shimmering jewels are constructed from e-piano fractals and electro-bubbles. Mind-melting cymbal swells move into the mix then fade into ether and the Orb-ian galaxy sequence continues weaving polychromatic strands while sometimes overtaking the mix with transcendent blasts of spectral sonic vapor. And beneath it all, heavily treated guitars are transmuted into temple bells.

As we go along, the track continue to spread out and submerge itself within a sea of LSD tracers…as if the mind is being wrapped around by vibratory threads of every possible color. Sparkling melodies, screaming fuzz arcs, and blinding synth solos intertwine while all throughout the mix float the sounds of electrified marbles rolling through echo-caverns. The dreamscape lead sequence swims through modulating waves of distortion and slow motion oscillators accelerate into hyperspace spirals while interstellar resonances create droning clouds of warmth. And as we move deeper into the otherworldly electronic miasma, I am increasingly reminded of Experimental Audio Research, especially Beyond the Pale and Mesmerised…just a joyous celebration of the possibilities of analog synthesis to evoke neon jungle environments on emerald planets or seas of intergalactic gas crashing upon diamond shores. Overt rhythms are abandoned, as are MIDI-sequencing and programming, with Ai instead reveling in human manipulations of crazed alien electronics. Starlight keys add further layers of cosmic shimmer while swelling currents of cymbal metal push the spirit towards ecstasy and moving towards the end, delay trails and reverb tails start merging together…like lapping ripples of feedback spreading outwards on a surface made of glass.

(images from my personal copy)

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boardloading744 · 3 years ago

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Sugar Bytes Guitarist No Sound

Sugar Bytes Guitarist is here. We are all used to the amazing way in which drums, keyboards and many more instruments have been captured in samplers and keyboards for use in our studios. However no one has yet managed to nail the sound AND performance of guitars, even after several admirable attempts. Now Sugar Bytes have announced ‘Guitarist’ described by them as. Maroon 5 released the music video for their new single 'Sugar' earlier this week. The video’s concept, Adam Levine explains at the start, was for the band to cruise around Los Angeles and 'hit. I'm using Sugar Bytes Virt Guitarist with Logic Pro on an iMac 5k (32g ram). It programs like a basic software synth or plays via midi/usb keyboard. The sound is pretty realistic. Not perfect, but close. Adding Logic Pro amp filters make it even better. Good enough for composing scores or commercial music beds. Sugar Bytes’ Factory is a fun and comprehensive synth with loads of sonic and modulating possibilities. They seem to approach it with a lot of humour which is no bad thing in my book. It is EUR 139 to buy for OSX and Windows in all the usual formats and there’s a 30 day demo version available on their website.

Sugar Bytes – Shareware –

Overview

Sugar Bytes Guitarist Library is a Shareware software in the category Miscellaneous developed by Sugar Bytes.

The latest version of Sugar Bytes Guitarist Library is currently unknown. It was initially added to our database on 05/04/2012.

Sugar Bytes Guitarist Library runs on the following operating systems: Windows.

Sugar Bytes Guitarist Library has not been rated by our users yet.

Write a review for Sugar Bytes Guitarist Library!

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DEF LEPPARD guitarist Phil Collen has reflected on the passing of Eddie Van Halen, calling him 'one of the most amazing influences ever.' The legendary VAN HALEN axeman died on October 6 at the age of 65 after a long battle with cancer.

Speaking to Everyone Loves Guitar, Collen said (see video below): 'We're talking about Eddie and the amazing impact he had on musicians, influences on guitar players and everything. It wasn't just the guitar playing, obviously. He was one of the most amazing influences ever. There was Jimi Hendrix in the '60s, and then Eddie Van Halen. Anyone who plays electric guitar would know about those two and what impact they had.

'I think when I first heard Eddie, it sounded like someone could fly — someone was literally like Superman,' he continued. 'They were doing this stuff that was amazing. The feel was incredible — it was just firepower. And the technique was, obviously, amazing, but the vibrato was just out of this world. Everything about it was what you wanted to hear in a guitar player. He was doing things — obviously, the tapping and all these other things — he just made everything work for him. So that's why it was so influential. It's not often someone comes along and just makes you wanna play guitar. With Eddie, it really made me wanna play guitar.

'That was the wonderful thing about Eddie, if you ever saw him play — he is the guitar, and the guitar is him… He was constantly upping the game of the guitar — not just the playing, but the actual tool that you use to get that. And I love that.

'I met him just very briefly a couple of times,' Phil added. 'And the first time I met him was on VAN HALEN's first headline tour of the U.K. I was in a band called GIRL, and we got back to see him, and I was talking to Eddie. I had this Fender Strat that was a gift from my mum on my 21st birthday. And I knew that it should have a Humbucker, because I couldn't quite get it. I was using fuzz boxes and that. I wanted to sound like Ritchie Blackmore, which was kind of cool, but I really wanted the Eddie thing. And I met him, and I was talking to him, and I said, 'I've got this Strat.' And he said, 'You know you're never gonna be happy with that guitar until you put a Humbucker in that, right?' So I did. So I went and got it fixed. That guitar, it was the main guitar on the 'Hysteria' album, so anytime you hear any of them songs — 'Rocket', 'Pour Some Sugar On Me', 'Armageddon It', 'Animal', 'Love Bites' — that's on there… So it was kind of cool that (Eddie) kind of gave me the okay and told me to butcher it in the first place. It sounds amazing. You've heard it. And it was incredible.

'We're really gonna miss Eddie — the playing, the influences. Just amazing stuff. But we've got the sounds. We've got all that stuff to still listen to.'

Eddie died at St. John's Hospital in Santa Monica, California. His wife, Janie, was by his side, along with his son Wolfgang, and Alex, Eddie's brother and VAN HALEN drummer.

The iconic VAN HALEN axeman died from complications due to cancer, his son confirmed.

VAN HALEN was inducted into the Rock And Roll Hall Of Fame in 2007.

Movie Sound Bytes

Rolling Stone magazine ranked Eddie Van Halen No. 8 in its list of the 100 greatest guitarists.

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afastaerosblog · 3 years ago

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Airplane Livery Adjustments

aircraft fuel system trouble shootingaircraft tank sealersAirframe paints.

Possibly the main function of aircraft coatings is to safeguard the airframe from corrosion. Today's R&D programmes look carefully at fuel conserving as well as cost cutting. Aerospace coverings take a lot of penalty. A commercial short-haul airplane goes through huge temperature level changes as it climbs to a typical cruising altitude of 35,000 ft to experience temperatures below -50'C as well as high degrees of short-wave radiation. Structural flexing, changing atmospheric pressure, direct exposure to cleaning up representatives, water, fuel and also other chemicals can all cause corrosion of the airplane skin. If corrosion takes place and also is left unchecked, it will result in matching, which could compromise the honesty of the airframe.

aircraft tank sealers

Anti-static conductive epoxy coverings regulate fixed fee and also surface area conductivity, high-temperature finishes stand up to temperature levels as high as 500 ° C and also anti-chafe layers with a Teflon additive withstand abrasion in areas such as wing flaps.

Airline company liveries.

Aircraft liveries are increasingly utilized for brand recognition, an advertising and marketing device for airline companies, due to the fact that customers determine the exterior of the airplane with the flying experience. Corporate colours as well as revamped livery can project a powerful brand with all that brings with it.

Water-based airplane paints.

Traditionally, aerospace coatings consisted of high amounts of unpredictable organic substances (VOCs); basically solvents used to carry the pigment in the paint. aircraft fuel system trouble shooting As the paint dried the VOCs vaporized, damaging the setting (depleting the ozone layer) as well as potentially, the health and wellness of those applying the covering. Many VOCs have actually been categorized as harmful and cancer causing.

New aviation coatings, made from non-chromate products, provide efficiency degrees that at one time might only have actually been achieved with high VOC, chrome-containing paints. Also coating-removers are currently water-based.

Reduced VOC finishes are much better for the atmosphere, however they do present challenges as a result of their low-solvent, high-solid material. Ultra-high solids layers now last 4 to eight years and are much better value, fewer coats are required, so much less finishing is used, there is a subsequent saving in work costs and also turn-around times as well as crucially, the finished layer weight is less.

The smoothness of the surface coating on last overcoats results drag and gas efficiency. The collected weight of the coverings is a factor, yet rivets and also joints require to be hidden. The turnaround time can be considerably decreased if the materials completely dry rapidly.

aircraft fuel tank entry team

American Airlines flies with the majority of the airframe unpainted. By not repainting aircraft surfaces, this kind of paint plan minimizes weight as well as a result leads to gas cost savings. Aluminium is the main product in the airframe, but now lighter weight magnesium as well as titanium are sometimes used for locations based on certain stress. Compounds are significantly made use of in next-generation airplane such as the 787. Conventional aerospace coverings do not stick easily to these materials. Many composites are sensitive to pole dancers. Therefore, research study into airframe coverings continues.

#aircraft fuel tank entry team #aircraft fuel tank mobile teams #aircraft aog fuel tank team #AOG fuel tank entry teams #aircraft structure repair teams #Aircraft Fuel tank migration #aircraft fuel system trouble shooting

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martinroyhall · 5 years ago

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News: NEW CITROËN C5 AIRCROSS SUV: NEW TV CAMPAIGN INVITES FAMILIES TO DISCONNECT IN COMPLETE COMFORT

To celebrate the recent publishing of MotorMartin’s latest YouTube review, Citroën C5 Aircross: Personal freedom. YouTube. And coming less than a year after its launch – with over 100,000 units already sold across Europe – the brand’s flagship model is back on TV with the film “New Citroën C5 Aircross SUV: disconnect in complete comfort”.

Citroën have explained to MotorMartin how the campaign was…

View On WordPress

#ACTIVE LANE DEPARTURE WARNING SYSTEM #ADAPTIVE CRUISE CONTROL WITH STOP&GO FUNCTION #airbump #Aircross #BlueHDi #C5 #C5 Aircross #citroen #Citroën C5 Aircross #double chevron #flying carpet effect #HIGHWAY DRIVER ASSIST #MotorMartin #MotorMartin YouTube

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stone-man-warrior · 4 years ago

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March 27, 2021: 2:44 pm:

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The terror spies at Symantec/norton/Centerylink/Google terrorists consortium saw that I had taken some photos and getting ready to post them, so, when that happens, when they see that I am active online and am about to make a post, the terrorist bastards send one of these pop-up windows to scare me, they know that I know that they were watching my email, and my phone use, so, they also know that when they send the pop-up window, that will scare me, it will, and does affect what I write about, the notion of a spy who is there watching, and makes an effort to frighten me by sending the pop-up is a frightening event.

It’s the same as a vulture waiting for me to die.

The same as a shark waiting for me to take a swim.

It’s exactly the same as a murderer who is there to make sure I don’t say details about the way the murderer is killing me or say anything about the heap of dead and dying high school students I saw at the high school that day when the Grants Pass Rural Metro Fire Department came after I called them for help ... the fire department solved the problem by burning the heap of dead and dying high school students that day.

That pop-up window is exactly like the Grants Pass Rural Metro Fire Department waiting to set me on fire when someone calls them to help me.

That is the level of help you can expect when the SAG/Canadian terror army takes over your town too. It’s only a matter of time until they come to your town, where ever you may be, the terror army will be there soon, to offer that level of service to your town, like they did to my town, and all of the towns in Oregon.

This is what I was getting ready to show when the terror bastard spies interrupted me:

I want to show the close up of the effect of the poisons, and point out that each of those big lesions is composed of two small puncture wounds that grew in size and depth to join together as one larger lesion. This photo below shows where about seven pairs of small puncture wounds grew together to form larger ones. This rash started out as pairs of small red dots after I was attacked by a terror soldier in my home. A terror soldier who is associated with the people who sent that pop-up window from Symantec through the Centurylink ISP network.

Here is example of one of the pairs of puncture wounds. This one is moving slower than the others did, and is just above my right ankle near the back of my leg. I suspect those will eventually grow to form one bigger sore as the others did.

I have been saying that the sores look like an entrance and an exit wound of a rapidly stabbing needle of a syringe, however, now I feel as though the attacking terror soldier had two different kinds of poison that was injected in tandem, with two syringes side by side repeatedly thrust into my leg. That explanation of two separate poisons makes more sense to me and fits the habits and of what I already know about the terror army, they do things from two extremes, and my symptoms are extreme cold at my toes, and extreme burning of the skin areas of the lower calf/shin.

I share this to help others, so they might help me. There is no place to get medical services here in Oregon unless you are a Canadian terror soldier or a Screen Actor Guild member, then, you can get the best health care there is.

The attack in my home occurred in the first or second week of February to the best of my recollection. The attack may have been the result of asking the Joe Biden White House for help to stop the terrorism, as I sent a note there asking for help on about February 12, 2021. The note is available to read in the entries of that time on this account.

Those photos were taken today, at about 2:30 pm, 3-27-2021.

There is little if any healing going on, and absolutely no interest of any kind from any helpful people. I am still not able to walk enough that I am willing to go check my mailbox, about a 1,600 foot walk, round trip from front door to maibox and back again ... it’s too far, I won‘t make it back, and has been a long time since I was able to get my mail. The last few attempts I made to get my mail from the mailbox included that there were terror neighbors all over the place, actually lined up down the street, waiting for me to be in the roadway where the mailbox is at for a chance to run me over.

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3:27 pm:

Also, that Joe Bonammassa email promotion always sends a email with a pertinent title within a few moments of each of the times I have shared photos of my injuries, seriously, you need look no further than the sender of that email promotion to learn more about why US Citizens cannot get medical treatment, while SAG, and Canadians in USA can get medical treatment. Joe’s people are able to change the time stamp of the emails they send, so the posted time stamp is about two hours off, maybe Joe is in a different time zone, hiding.

Joe lives on Mullhulland Drive (Valley Circle Blvd above Tarzana) at a place he calls nerdville studios, I used to go there in my youth before Joe took possession, there is even a police report I made of a murder that happened on the front porch there from about 1978.

I don‘t like that Joe Bonammassa makes fun of my injuries.

An observation and warning to others about the Joe Bonammassa terror High Command promotional emailer from Amp Guru at Vatican Choir:

In event that you sign up to receive the Joe Bonammassa Promotional emailer from On-High, be advised that I don’t think it’s possible to Unsubscribe from the Joe Bonammassa Promotional emailer. The reason is that the Bonammassa email promotions are “bottomless pit” variety of email ... the email has no end to it, When you open the Joe Bonammassa Promotional email from Vatican Choir and try to scroll to the bottom so you possibly “unsubscribe” with the button that usually allows someone to unsubscribe at the bottom of the email, where other important information about the sender is also supposed to be located, at the foot of the email.

The thing has no footer.

The emailers from Joe go on and on and on and on forever loading more and more content into the email as you are trying to scroll to the bottom to find the “Unsubscribe” button.

It’s not there, if it is there, it can never be pushed. It’s a bottomless pit, keeps loading forever with more schwagg, more tee-shirts, more coffee mugs, lapel pins, coasters, doyleys, jackets, hats, back stage at Red Rocks vacation packages, and two-week cruise ship rides that are really one-way tickets designed especially for US national security personnel.

But you can never “Unsubscribe” from Joe Bonammassa Promotional music industry terror emailer from On-High at Amp Guru of the Vatican Choir,

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Terror airplane low and slow flyover is noted above my house at 3:50 pm.

I also want to make sure I say that the terror bastards are still turning off my number pad on my computer, when I need to use a numeral, and the number pad has been shut off remotely, the cursor goes flying somewhere else on the page, I have to reset the page view to where I was typing, and manually turn the number pad back on, happens dozens of time per day, and has been happening for as long as I can remember, more than ten years the terror bastards have been turning off the number pad. The same person that makes the letter M not work is responsible for that, so, it’s someone who is in a position such as administrator at Centurylink ISP where Remote Access can be done on the computers of Centurylink ISP users.

They are interrupting and preventing reports of terrorism and mass murder, interrupting life saving information from reaching helpful people.

==========================

4:12 pm:

I haven‘t been doing my usual Twitter terror language decoding that I usually do while trying to get help, I am too focused on the pain in my leg for that, am not able to really do the level of thinking required for decoding of terror language on Twitter.

I have some that I will share real quick:

“Uighers” are said to be Muslims treated poorly, held as prisoners in China.

It’s notable that all of the news about the Uighers all seems to come from Christian oriented news sources. I don‘t see any reports about the Uighers coming from Muslim news sources.

That said, consider that the word “Uigher” is actually terror code for the word “Wire”.

That’s all I am going to say about it.

Uigher = Wire

Go back to look at all of the news stories about the Uigher’s, and see if there is any kind of way that “Wire” could be the source of actual subject, that would include British style communication “Wires”, it would include spring loaded wire snares for killing people, and include electrical high tension wires, to name a few of the ways the word “Uigher” could be a terror term that translates to “Wire”.

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4:25 pm:

Please send medical services to Josephine county Oregon.

Please send US Military to stop the terror take over in Oregon.

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5:07 pm:

Another terror airforce airplane flyover my house low and slow at 5:07 pm. This one is bigger, louder than the usual terror flyover. The airplanes drop loads of nitrous oxide over attack zones to prime the area ahead of a ground attack, and have been “priming” the area around my house for twenty years. I suspect they are using other, more poisonous gasses lately. The forest animal population around here was wiped out long ago because of so much gas released.

(big explosion just now from the north west of here, estimated at Jess Way Railroad crossing area.)

The terror bastards send the young terror soldiers into the mountains regularly to collect small animals and bring them to places where the animals have been killed off by the gas release. That has been happening a long time also.

Grants Pass Municipal Airport about seven miles south of here, used to have a US national Guard base built in to it. All of the US Guard service personnel were killed, then, the Guard sent more to replenish the base with men and equipment in around 2004, then, that group was also killed.

The bottom line on that base at the Grants Pass Municipal Airport is that technically there is a US national Guard base that you can see on a map, and maybe you could phone that Guard base and speak with someone who claims to be a Guard Officer, however, all of that is just for show, as there is no real active guard base there anymore, and hasn’t been there since about year 2000. The terror army took over the Grants Pass Municipal Airport long ago, the terror army has been flying out of there since before 1996, that is as far back as my knowledge goes about that airport and the airplanes that are used for priming attack areas with nitrous oxide aerial drops prior to a ground assault with terror soldiers armed with more gas, and swords, while dressed in street clothes and driving regular automobiles same as any citizen would be driving.

Please send help.

=============

5:26 pm:

The airplane again, different one, just a little south of here...

5:27 pm: airplane made another pass.

===========================

5:42 pm:

I am pretty sure the bastards saw the photos of my leg, then decided what particular poison gas they have that would make my symptoms worse, then loaded an airplane or two with that and flew over my house to drop the specially mixed poison over my house today. Suddenly my leg turned bright pink, the skin is burning, and I am having coughing fits in ways I have not had before.

Please send help.

Is USA and it’s people disposable?

Why are my reports of terror takeover ignored?

Twenty years of ignorance, not one single interested person has asked me to say more.

Why?

================

6:20 pm:

For those who may be interested in doing terror language decoding work to get information used by the SAG leadership for advancing terror events, I have this to offer besides all of the other information I already explained and demonstrated elsewhere on this account and also most of that is contained in two of my suspended Twitter accounts, nsa could gain access to the contents of those accounts to learn more about the decode work I was doing back then.

For now, this: Read each Twitter news story as if its a taxi cab. You get into the cab, the driver does not speak English, and you don‘t speak the language that the driver is speaking, and, you cannot figure out what language the driver is using. So, you read the news article, while also sort of knowing that it’s not really English. You do that enough times, get into different cabs, read the story as it’s written, and pretty soon, when you compare what is said on the taxi cab ride to what you absolutely know is real in real life, you will begin to see that you have been taken for a ride in the cab. The driver takes you everywhere there is to go, other than the place you need to be, so, that is an important part of the Twitter decode. You need to treat all of the Twitter stories as if you already know the driver is not going to take you to the place where you need to be, so, that narrows things down considerably, not much, but it does offer some guidance in knowing for sure that the face value of the each Twitter story is nowhere near what is really being said in the coded language spoken by the Twitter taxi cab driver of news stories. You know before you get into the cab that it’s going to take you for a ride somewhere far from where you need to be.

What I do, is I consider the face value, then turn it completely around the other way backwards. If the news story says something about a new small asteroid was discovered in space orbiting just passed Pluto. then, I consider that the real story is close to my neighborhood, is big, can be seen without special viewing apparatus, is always there, always has been there, and that I need to be aware of what it’s going to be doing. That works as a start, to figure out why did the taxi driver take me to space to see a new asteroid? The answer is he did that so you won‘t be thinking about that other thing, the thing that is real close to home,

From there, you need to go read more news stories, to take more taxi rides, so you can find out more about what it is that the Twitter Taxi driver does not want you to be thinking about. Granted, most of the time I don‘t find the answers, but there are many times when I did find exactly what was being said. You have to take a lot of Twitter Taxi rides to space in order to see that there is a big yellow airplane parked on your front lawn, and Twitter put it there. They don’t want you to see or ask questions about the big yellow airplane, so they baffle you with bullshit.

Basically, whatever the face value is, the real story is something that is polar opposite of that in some way.

The other methods I already explained in many places in this account and the ones in the suspended Twitter accounts will help from there. There is “word magic” and there is the “Russian Mother of all Hoaxes” were established bullshit is adhered to, it’s handy to have a set of lies that are so old and accepted that the lies can be told with a straight face among many, in such a way that the lie reaches the terror operatives as a marching order, in main stream media, prime time, film at eleven, and in newsprint at the news stand.

The Russian Mother of all Hoaxes is everywhere, you can see it very clearly in commercial advertising at holiday seasons for example.

The terror comm is intuitive, is presented with alternate use of English language, and is told in aggregate within multiple news stories on Twitter in effort to guide the terror soldiers who need to read the marching orders, by repeating the same basic information within many different shell language host stories.

I did not go to the terror decode school at the local church on Russell road like my neighbor terror cell members did, I had to learn the hard way to save my own life. My way of reading may be different than the way the terror soldiers do their reading of daily Twitter marching orders.

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7:10 pm:

With all of that in mind, and knowing that the face value is bullshit, ask some questions:

Why is the Twitter taxi driver taking everyone to the Suez Canal to see a big ass boat stuck in the canal?

Ok, we know it’s bullshit to start with, We know, or should have known, that USA was hijacked, all of the government are shills, there are other SAG members someplace else calling the shots, and there are the top leaders who are in the Music industry at Vatican Choir HQ on the Island of Kauai at a place called Kauai Ranch. We know that much but no one is interested in saving USA from being dismantled by those people.

With that in mind, we also know that much of the US Military equipment is in the hands of the Canadian terror army soldiers who are disguised as US Troops. They are positioned all over the world, and have the US equipment to use as they are instructed to use it by Vatican Choir.

now, we need to think about “Time Warp Terror” the story about the Ever Given is old, that story happened in around 2008. Twitter terror command is running the story again as a current event.

Set that Time Warp part aside for awhile, and look at what we are shown. The boat is stuck, we can see that. There are hundreds of other boats waiting on each side of the canal.

That is where the terror warfare is at.

A well equipped Canadian force tbat is really an extension of British Power composed of Canadians who hijacked US Military, are poised there on each side of the Suez Canal. The Canadians disguised as US forces are said to have gone to the region “to help” as Army Core of Engineers.

There are hundreds of boats on each side of the canal, those boats represent the largest global movers of freight on earth, all of the biggest shipping contractors are there, with no where to go, waiting, floating there.

USA has the Iran Terror Rental Service that I talk about from time to time. I think media calls it “Iran Contra”.

That puts some logistics in place to think about what could be happening, I say that when the story was fresh in 2008, that is when most of the global freight companies were hijacked in the night by US equipment manned by Canadians who work for Britain, and are commanded by Screen Actor Guild and it’s sub unions as leadership.

nitrous oxide mixed with Medazolam released in vast quantity to overwhelm the boat captains and crews of the ships that were waiting for the Ever Given to get out of the way. It did not get out of the way, because it was supposed to get stuck as part of the plan. While everyone is watching the antics of what is happening in the canal, the real story is what was happening on each side of the canal where most of the major global freight companies had at least one boat in the water there.

Basically, US equipment manned by Canadians, who were already secretly stationed at Iranian ports, attacked and took over those ships that were waiting there. It was done super quiet, and in the night time on the high seas where the shipping boats waited patiently.

The captains and crews of those shipping boats are small numbers of people. The success of such a take over only requires that as many of those boats as is possible, simply experience what could be said was a “Crew and Management Change”, a few dozen people on each of the larger boats, and less than that on the smaller shipping boats that were hijacked.

There is no news reports that feature the ships that are waiting, all of the focus is on the Ever Given.

now apply the “Time Warp” terror.

Maybe the terror bastards are repeating the same thing at the Panama Canal, and only need the shell host language of the Ever Given at the Suez for saying the marching orders online in main stream media.

That is what I think already happened twelve years ago when the story of the big ass boat in the Suez Canal was a current event.

====================================

7:52 pm:

In order to stop terrorism everywhere on earth, the very first thing that has to be done, is to remove Twitter from the internet completely.

Any attempt to thwart terrorism will fail as long as Twitter remains actively spewing out the terror marching orders.

The reason includes that the US and other nations governments, militarizes, national security offices, and public safety offices are all infiltrated by the SAG/Britain/Canadian/Vatican representation that if Twitter remains active while global security forces who are in opposition to a British/SAG power structure ruling the world are doing counter terror work to fight against that, those offices I mentioned that are infiltrated will continue to spew leaked information that will end up contained coded in a Twitter news story, and the Twitter taxi driver will simply bring terror soldiers to the places they need to be for protecting the Britain/SAG power structure, while also taking everyone else for a ride to see asteroids orbiting Pluto.

Twitter needs to come down in order to keep leaked national security information associated with counter measures, off of the internet mainstream news,

===========

8:12 pm:

Also, look at the time frame that the Ever Given has been stuck there, then look at all of the other news stories told by the Twitter taxi driver during that same time period.

How many “Schul Schutes” have taken place since the time the boat was stuck?

Is the other news in quality and quantity as per usual with regard to it’s subject matter, or has the month of March been more bad news than usual? Include that Joe Biden did a news conference in that time frame, and for some reason, the notion that Joe Biden did a news conference was a news story of interest all on it;s own. I found that the excitement generated by the existence of a planned Biden news conference was a bigger news item than was the conference itself.

What I am pointing out is that there seems to have been a lot of effort on the part of all of the news media networks to make ample distraction stories during the time that the Ever Given has been stuck in the canal. The relevance of so many “Schul Schute’s” and other exciting news is partly that each news item, of those that could be said were “extra bonus distraction stories” is such that each one of the extra curricular stories presents a shell of specific terror language. and there are many “extra bonus distraction“ stories, so, there is sort of a shell language base of terms and directions that can be used for the multitude of outcomes of shipping companies that were hijacked by virtue of a faked Suez Canal Clog.

Say the terror army only took over one shipping company boat, by flooding the boat with a cloud of nitrous oxide/medazolam gas mixture, and were able to board a boat, take the captain and crew into captivity, interrogate to gain company information, then send special terror soldier/actors to the HQ of that company to quietly and completely replace everyone who works at the management level and boat captains. The terror army would have enough information to continue to run the company as it is normally run, with exception of special cargo in the post hijack shipping docket, be it human cargo, munition cargo, poison gas cargo .., cargo that suits the needs of global domination efforts. Personally, I feel that such a takeover would present an opportunity to secretly move many thousands of people.

That would suit global domination efforts.

Consider:

There is no place on earth called Russia. The existence of Russia is part of the Russian Mother of all Hoaxes. With a lie supported by news media, and much of the worlds European global leaders, a perpetuated lie of the magnitude of existence or Russia and everything we were told about the Russia military and possession of nuclear warhead missiles, and including that Russia is a Communist ruled place, all of that when accepted as truth sets global power in a false light, one that serves the British/SAG/Canadian offensive quest for global domination.

Everyone on earth is terrified of a boogie man bad guy who has big guns, is as powerful as is USA or China. That bad guy is Russia, a place the never existed.

When you take Russia out of the global power equation, that changed everything about what we thought we knew about global power.

no Russia means USA is pretty much equal with China as far as military strength is concerned.

However, the real truth includes the reason that there needed to be a Russian Boogie man in the first place, that the US Military was already taken over by the British/SAG/Canadian terror army. The existence of Russia was amplified at the time the British plan to take over the world was initiated for the taking of USA phase when they news media pulled down “The Iron Curtain” and the “Cold War“ was said to be over, all of that breathed new life into the lie that is Russia.

now the reason that the freight company take over could include that the reason for it was partially to move vast quantities of people quietly, unnoticed in unexpected ways, but at expected, normal and customary locations.

Hong Kong.

Shipping boats parked at Hong Kong ports, could pick up large quantities of Hong Kong resident terror soldiers trained under Britain rule the same way that Canadians were trained for taking over USA.

The boats loaded with Hong Kong terror soldiers who are loyal to Britain, would then be “shipped” to Chines ports, take over the port cities, quietly kill & replace the Chinese population and blend in while working on land to take more shipping companies in effort to move ever closer to Beijing, and once in Beijing in great numbers, could take the capitol city the same way that Washington DC was taken in USA but much faster, because in USA the attack was over a long period of time, done by individual vote of each individual impostor of a murdered US Citizen.

In China at Beijing, the Hong Kong terror army would not need to wait for election day over many years.

Since there is no Russia, there will be no Russian interference.

Since there is no US Military, all is hijacked by Canadians, any US boats in the area will support the British Hong Kong take over of Beijing.

It’s really not that complicated of a plan. The magic that makes all of that takeover work so successfully is the quality of the lies told many decades ahead of time, lies that are so big, that everyone believes that the lie is truth.

When truth includes that Russia is a lie, that there is no Russia and never was, trying to help people by informing them is not easy, is a losing battle. The lie will win every time when the lie is that there is a place called Russia that is a communist nation and is armed with atomic weapons.

Truth is that China is the Global super power, and that became true starting in around 1965 and it got more and more true over time as the US military was quietly destroyed by what was perceived as it’s own leadership. By the time Bob Hope and USO shows aboard US navy vessels and at the US bases became the accepted norm, that was the beginning of the end of US as a global power.

Today, USA is perceived as a global power, but there are no more wings on that bird, the wings of the Eagle were denied. amputated, the bird is lame, cannot fly.

Screen Actor Guild killed the Eagle that once was US Military, making China the worlds strongest war power, but the Chinese do not know that, and are about to be taken by Britain, through Hong Kong at Beijing with Britain supported by Canadians who are using US Military equipment.

The current “Asian Hate” narrative is there to discourage compassion for the Chinese when the shit goes sideways there, and gets very, very real, the way it is in USA, all is very real under secret Canadian rule with Britain and SAG at command.

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March 28, 2021: 2:20 pm:

Bonammassa again, he says I upset him. Yes, it is that personal, but is done in true terror pansy fashion, hidden in the open, in plain sight, where everyone can see it, but only few understand it.

That’s how real terror is done. In your face, but no one will fight against it, they just roll over and die.

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