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lenreli · 5 months ago

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Conduit [Dreamling Week Day 2 - Flowers]

[AO3] | [Dreamling Week '24 Masterpost]

E, 2.9k. An innocently given gift becomes much more.

It starts with a simple gift. A flower, a red rose, made from dreams and everlasting, as long as Hob wanted it to last ― and one time, Dream thought of giving him one, in the 15th century, but threw it away, letting it dissolve into nothing before he entered The White Horse.

“It’s beautiful,” Hob whispers, brown eyes glued to the flower in his hands, held so gently and Dream wants, seeing how delicately Hob touches it, one finger going up a soft green stem to the bottom of the rose.

“A gift,” he says as he steps away, mouth dry as Hob continues to softly touch it, a finger softly touching the top of the red petals. “It will never wilt.”

Hob smiles so brightly that Dream’s unsure how the local star can compete as Hob holds it even more delicately, holding it close to his chest as Hob starts to ramble, going on about fake flowers and boutique, avant-garde art that Dream’s present could pass as.

“I’m glad you like it,” Dream whispers, watching as Hob walks around his various knick-knacks for the perfect vase to match it, eventually digging up a thin black vase with golden cracks through it from a spare room. Kinstugi.

It’s as he’s listening to a Nightmare’s concerns that Dream realises, a soft touch flowing through him that he stops, the Nightmare freezing in place.

Then another touch, fluttering inside and Dream vanishes into his room as there’s another touch, near his thighs and he shivers, shutting his eyes at the feeling. And also, to reach out to where the touch originates―

His flower, the red rose, intertwined with him, his yearning as Hob works at his office at university, and Dream gasps as a finger goes through the centre of the rose, arousal coiling the warmth of it so deep inside. Whining, he can see that Hob’s not even paying attention, the fingers pressing into the rose more of a fidget as he works at something on his laptop.

Keening, he can only feel the soft pads of Hob’s fingers inside, warmth pressing against suddenly-made ribs and organs, more for the soft wisps to touch as Hob lightly touches the outside of the petals, moving to the top and Dream can only cry, only aware as the fingers leave, cold returning in their place.

I should stop this, he thinks with harsh clarity―then, he can hear it, the vase being pulled closer to Hob, quiet words whispered to the flower. Not anything focused on Dream, more Hob talking to himself as he works through references and books, warm gusts of breath heating him up as Hob continues to work.

Dream closes his eyes and soaks in the warmth.

He… forgets. To stop it, although next time he visits Hob in his home, he’s glad to know that the rose is nowhere in the vicinity. “My friend!” Hob beams at him, coming closer like he’s going to hug―and then Hob stops.

“Hello,” he offers, strangling the disappointment and bitterness that he feels as Hob moves to get something close to him, a record. “No university today?”

Hob laughs and gets the vinyl record out, putting it softly onto the turntable setup he has “It’s the weekend, Dream!” Hob waves a hand and looks down at his clothes, a threadbare white shirt and blue boxer shorts, “and I was going to get dressed and mark some of my things at The New Inn.”

“Why the music?” Dream frowns and stares at the record spinning, Pink Floyd flooding the house as Hob walks into his kitchen. Eventually following, he finds Hob getting out a sourdough bread and eggs.

“It’s nice while making food, of course,” Hob mumbles, getting more things out of the fridge and other cupboards and Dream watches, the whorls of fingerprints still aching underneath his skin, his ribs.

At his Shores of Creation, working on a multi-limbed dream, he feels a light touch up his back. Stopping his work, he shuts his eyes and can see Hob’s office, hazy and transient as a thumb lightly touches the side of the rose. It’s a gift from a friend, Hob says, eyes soft as they stare down at the rose and Dream’s just-made heart thuds in his chest.

Some friend, huh? Someone else says, voice light and soft and can almost see her expression as Hob laughs, fingers going down the green stem and Dream lets out sound at the touch, hot and sharp from Hob’s nails. The press of it is maddening as a finger fiddles with a leaf on the stem.

He’s very important to me. Shut up, Hob pouts and pulls the rose closer, and Dream lets out a gasp at the touch of lips on top of the rose, on his head.

Okay loverboy, calm down, Hob’s friend says with a laugh and he can feel a huff, Hob’s hand curling tighter around the rose and Dream moans, shaking at the feel of so much, mind stuttering and falling over itself. Stop fondling that and let’s get lunch, you weirdo.

I’m perfectly normal, Hob mutters, and Dream lets out keen as the connection ends, ghostly touch no longer on him. Opening his eyes, he looks up at the sky as he takes a deep breath as he sits up, somehow ending up lying on the sand.

Shivering, Dream puts a hand on his chest, the touch doing nothing as his half-finished creations stare down at him.

The connection flares to life, effectively distracting from a report Mervyn is giving about ― flowers, red petals that he complains are flooding the grounds of the castle. He can feel the cause of that flowers, a touch pressing below the flower itself, at the top of the stem, can see Hob at his desk, a mass of white paper he’s focusing on.

“Again?!” Mervyn complains and stalks off, grumbling and Dream fades back into his bedroom, knowing that working like this wouldn’t be productive. A finger goes down the green stem and Dream gasps, sinking onto his bed as Hob talks to himself ― mainly, about the essays he’s grading, the words blurry and out of focus compared to the hand fiddling with the flower, stroking up and down the stem as Hob yawns and scratches his forehead.

Dream’s skin tingles as Hob seems to notice his other hand on the flower, making him grumble to himself more ― and Dream almost swallows his tongue as Hob brings the flower closer, stubble pressing into the flower ― and into him, as Hob rests his jaw on the petals. The rough, prickly feeling makes him whimper, pleasure heightening to absurd levels so quickly that it makes him dizzy, falling into the sensations even more.

Hob sighs, expression disappointed with what he’s reading and Dream can feel the orgasm approaching as a finger goes up, tracing the edge of a petal ― and the wracking pleasure of coming feels secondary to the way the finger goes inside, pressing softly inside as Hob yawns once more, stretching in his place.

The oversensitivity itches, sharp sensation at the way Hob’s jaw returns to the petal, and a sound is wrenched out of him at the way he can feel soft hair and Dream, as always, feel the urge to reach out to touch the soft skin he can feel, the calluses on the other’s hands.

Spending a morning in on Hob’s lecture is something he’s never getting enough of ― seeing Hob in his element, around people, as he asks questions of his students, and they ask in return. Hob never seems to be awkward around people, bright and engaging, and Dream envies the ease at which Hob carries himself. Even with being a King, it feels awkward and ill-fitting, not right or true, though people never realise it.

“What do you think of―Dream?” Hob asks and he blinks, thoughts crashing since they��re in Hob’s office, and he freezes at the sight of the red flower, still in its black-gold vase. “Dream?”

“Yes?” He blinks, holding himself still as Hob hovers over his desk ― and the flower, insides becoming hot at just the sight of it.

Hob looks down at his desk and shrugs, smiling, “ah. Nevermind. I never got you a gift in return for this, did I?” Hob says softly, a hand hovering above the flower and Dream goes even more still.

“It’s fine,” he replies quickly and Hob blinks, looking at him with confusion as he puts his hand onto the table. Dream relaxes, insides scorching hot at just the thought of previous touches, still imprinted onto him.

“Still, you’re my friend and I’d want to give something to you in return,” Hob sighs and gets out some things from his bag, putting it onto the table.

“You have already given me your friendship, which is enough,” he says as Hob gets out a plastic bento box.

“Even so, might do some sort of thing for you anyway,” Hob says with a grin, shaking his bento, “gonna go heat this up. Won’t be long! Don’t go anywhere. Or, at least, leave a note or something, please,” he continues and Dream nods, watching Hob rush out the door.

Dream gives a wary look to the flower, still as red and green as the day it was made ― and drifts over to Hob’s many books, eventually finding one that seems interesting enough to read while Hob has his lunch break.

Mainly, Dream has been waiting, not much work being done as Mervyn despairs even more over the constant red petals.

Then, a fizzling sensation trails up his back and Dream sinks into the sensation, into his bed. Hob is in his office, a thumb pressing up the back of the stem, staring down at the flower in contemplation and Dream wants. Can feel himself overflow with it as the thumb presses into the petal, pushing in between them and a keen gets pulled out of him.

“Hob,” he whimpers, voice loud and Hob unable to hear it as he whines, arching into it as Hob’s thumb reaches the centre, the feeling all-consuming and rough, calluses scratching against the petals. Hob sighs and rests his face on his other hand, and Dream cries out as the thumb drifts out of the flower, moving to stroke the top of it.

Dream, Hob says, browns furrowing and Dream’s insides twist, gripping at his hair as Hob continues to stare―

―Then falls against the desk, fast asleep, fingers leaving the flower―

“Dream?” Hob says, in his realm, in his room, pulled along by Dream’s crushing want.

“Touch me,” he whines, almost out of his mind with the sudden lack of feeling as Hob gapes, eyes round, in the leather jacket, pants and top he was probably wearing, beard more like 1389.

“But I was just―” Hob pauses and hovers over him, still looking but not touching―and Hob lets out a sound as Dream’s clothes vanish, as Dream grabs onto the other’s wrist. “Dream―”

“You will not touch me?” He breathes, looking up from his lashes. Hob lets out a whine, and he shivers as a hand presses against his chest, nails lightly scratching down his torso.

“I―I do, I want, it’s just. Do you really? Want this?” Hob leans over him, his other hand caressing Dream’s side, still hesitant.

“Did you not hear me?” He growls, urging the hand he’s grabbed onto to go lower. “I want you,” he whispers, watching as Hob shivers, gulping loudly in the room. “I want you inside, to feel that fully and wholly,” he states, pulling Hob closer until Hob gasps.

“I, um. Fuck,” Hob breathes, lips so close to his own ― and he moans as Hob kisses him, as hands go down to his hips, the musk of him rich and moreish, mouth tasting of spices. “And the, um. The flower?” Hob squeaks, eyes on his lower half ― at the black flower at his groin, petals unfurling out onto his thighs, his stomach, the centre cluster of it wet and leaking.

“That flower I gave you,” he breathes, arching into Hob’s fingers, gently stroking the edge of the petals on him, knowing it’s not the answer Hob’s expecting, “accidentally I made a connection with it ― to be touched like that flower, and ever since I’ve felt it, your fingerprints engraved on the inside of me as you touched and fondled that flower.”

Hob groans, other hand going into his hair as they kiss, Hobs’ tongue probing his mouth as the other hand goes closer to the centre, dipping into the folds of the flower and making him whine. “Whenever I touched it, I thought of you, wanting to touch you too, but not knowing if you’d―” Hob strangles out, fingers reaching even deeper into him and pleasure bubbles and fizzles, some far-off part of him wondering if that’s why the flower became a conduit, both of their yearning converging onto the dreamstuff that made it.

“I would like for you to stop being a tease,” he grabs onto Hob’s clothes, getting rid of them with a thought and they gasp as their skin touches.

Hob laughs, wild and cracked as he bites down his neck, making Dream moan at the feeling, “I’m still wrapping my head around this, cut me some slack,” Hob speaks into his collarbone, “and this,” Hob’s fingers crook inside the part of the flower and he keens, a hand threading through Hob’s chest hair, other hand gripping onto the back of Hob’s neck, “this is just so ― you’re so beautiful.”

Dream tries to say something, but he can only shudder as fingers leave him, ghosting over the petals, closer to the his leaking centre, watching through his lashes as Hob stares at him reverently. And looking down, Dream can see how hard Hob’s cock is, still not inside ― so he digs his nails into Hob’s neck and pulls him down, their mouths meeting desperately as a hard cock brushes against him, feeling pre-come dripping down his petals.

“Fuck,” Hob swears, language going more Old English as they rut against each other, petals sliding against the hardness so―Dream gasps, feeling fingers go into the centre, twisting roughly and making pleasure jolt through him. “How do you―you feel so soft, like silk,” Hob breathes, nails scratching against his walls and he shivers.

Putting his other hand into Hob’s hair, his thumb presses the silvers under it―then pulls him in for a brutal kiss, biting into his mouth as Hob whines and shudders against him, fingers twitching sporadically inside him. “And yet,” he doesn’t finish, their mouths connected by a string of saliva, for little how they part.

Hob swallows, eyes dark as his fingers slip out. “It’s not my fault. I’d want to play for hours if you’d let me,” he says, licking his lips as Hob lines himself up, making Dream scrabble to hold onto the other’s back as his cock finally slides in.

“After,” he manages, eyes rolling to the back of his head as Hob starts to fuck him, walls clenching tightly around the other’s cock as it slides out, then pushes back in.

Dream comes either after hours or seconds, time stretching as he is already so coiled tight from lingering ghost touches, flower at his groin curling up tightly around the other’s cock as bliss rocks through him. Hob follows him shortly, gasping as their fluids mix and leak out of him.

Dream is floating, mind clear and feeling the sensations, even after Hob’s gone back to the Waking World.

Then there’s a familiar connection, a thumb pressed against the edge of the red flower. Dream, Hob says, the hazy connection showing his home and Dream blinks, sitting up as he puts on a sheer black robe and steps into Hob’s apartment. “You’re lucky I keep spare clothes at work after that,” Hob points out, nail dragging under the top of a flower petal ― and Dream bites down a moan.

“I ― apologise,” he whines, nails and calluses pressing against his skin as a thumb goes into the outer layer of the rose.

“Nothing to be sorry for, Dream,” Hob says, a nail pressing against the bottom of the rose and Dream kneels underneath the touches. “You did say we could play after though. If you still want.”

Hob walks closer, the smell of him more concentrated in the Waking, sharp and floral ― or some of that might be the rose still in his hand, other fingers dancing along the outside of the flower and Dream’s mind scrambles under so much as he rests his head against Hob’s thigh. “Yes.”

A dual touch, a finger sliding inside a petal, inside him, as well as Hob’s other hand touching his hair, pulling a moan out of him as Hob kneels down next to him. Buzzing with pleasure, he stares at the other’s dark eyes as Hob tugs him in for a kiss, hair roughly held in his fingers ― the finger in the flower also pressing against the bottom of the flower and he shivers, the touch inside and deep.

The dual touch may be a lot, but the lack of it is even worse as Hob gets up, leaving him cold as nails scratch up the stem, and he somehow manages to get up, latching onto Hob’s waist as they kiss.

[Fin]

#dc #the sandman #dreamling #dreamling fanfic #dream x hob #hob x dream #hob x morpheus #dream of the endless #hob gadling #dreamling week #dreamling week 2024 #writing #not sfw #enjoyed this one a lot

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dustedmagazine · 6 months ago

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Otomo Yoshihide and Chris Pitsiokos — Uncanny Mirror (Eleatic)

When talking about Otomo Yoshihide, one has to be specific as to whether they’re talking about the rock deconstructionist (as a member of the seminal Japanese avant-rock group Ground Zero), the Onkyo pioneer, the big band leader, or the improviser, amongst many other hats. Over the course of more than 30 years, Yoshihide has occupied a space within the avant-garde that no other musician dwells in. In recent years, however, he has found a more than capable improvising partner in saxophonist Chris Pitsiokos. Pitsiokos has managed to forge new forward-looking directions in spite of the retro-fetishistic tendencies of the free jazz scene, working with luminaries such as Luke Stewart, Wendy Eisenberg and Brandon Seabrook along the way.

Uncanny Mirror, the duo’s second release,features Pitsiokos on saxophone and laptop and Yoshihide on turntables, save for one track where he plays guitar. Yoshihide’s approach to the turntable as a vehicle for improvisation is a story of its own. Turntablists such as Christian Marclay, arguably the forefather of experimental turntable music, often use the instrument as a means of referencing various songs and sounds and taking them out of their original context, sometimes in a humorous manner. Yoshihide’s turntable work on Uncanny Mirror, however, is pure sound. The cracks and skips of the turntable are the instrument. The records used as source material are inscrutable, and knowing what they are seems to be beside the point.

The first track is titled “Original Glitch,” speaking to the fact that Yoshihide has employed technological malfunctions as sound sources long before doing so became an idiom of its own. Yoshihide sounds as though he is shooting sparks and fireworks out of his turntables, and Pitsiokos plays off of the madness. His saxophone style is deep and guttural, but also far more intricate and subtle than the typical Brötzmann worship would allow. Somehow, he sounds as though he is peeling apart his saxophone piece by piece through his playing. This frenetic energy is kept up throughout the duration of the record, pausing only on the sixth track “Lava Flow.” This track is a tense, ominous dirge; Yoshihide’s turntable sounds less like fireworks and more like waves flowing out from the ether, and Pitsiokos substitutes his growl for a slow, but no less aggressive, whining tone. The end result shows that, even after nearly a decade of working together, Yoshihide and Pitsiokos are far from exhausting the possibilities of their improvisational practice.

Levi Dayan

#otomo yoshihide #chris pitsiokos #uncanny mirror #eleatic #levi dayan #albumreview #dusted magazine #ground zero #onkyo #jazz #free jazz #free improvisation

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burlveneer-music · 2 years ago

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Økapi & Aldo Kapi's Orchestra - Pardonne-moi, Olivier! (feat. Geoff Leigh, Mike Cooper) 16 oiseaux pour Olivier Messiaen - plunderphonics + instrumental overdubs

The album is a plunderphonic parabola of the imaginary world, mystical and ornitological, of the French composer of the XX century, Olivier Messiaen. A sort of birds' catalogue, as Messiaen tried to do during his life. As always, even in this case økapi composed a little sound-collagism opera, which includes a video development. This is the soundtrack of this "movie". For this A/V-project, økapi is co-working with the italian video-artist Simone Memé, part of the collective MoreTv-V. Because of his dixit plunderphonic nature, and for the occasion, økapi involved Geoff Leigh (sax/flute) and Mike Cooper (guitar) into his phantomatic virtual orchestra. Økapi is Filippo Paolini (see also OCD032 K-Mundi), an Italian turntablist and sample cutup artist. Filippo has recorded several solo albums, as well as recording in the duo Metaxu and with the trio Dogon. He has performed live for national Italian State radio broadcasts (RAI) with renowned avant-turntablist, Christian Marclay and collaborates with numerous international artists such as Mike Cooper, Geoff Leigh, Peter Brotzmann, Mike Patton, Matt Gustafson, Zu, Damo Suzuki, Andy EX, Kawabata Makoto, Metamkine…

ØKapi's album releases illustrate his unique and edgy use of turntables and computer beyond the hip-hop school of chopped up music, creating music that veers from orchestral to lounge with quirky experimental electronics that maintain a delicate and spacious sound throughout. Website: www.okapi.it. Økapi: Direction Geoff Leigh: voice, soprano sax, flutes Mike Cooper: guitars Aldo Kapi’s Orchestra: Olivier Messiaen - Jon Appleton - Senking - David Berezan - Kyoka - Marc Tremblay - Aoki Takamasa + Tujiko Noriko – Paul Dolden - Ryoji Ikeda - Mochipet – Elsa Justel - Circuit Bent- Subjex - Mr. Ours & 4bstr4ck3r - Coh - Martin Leclerc - Herve Boghossian - Monty Brigham bird sounds collection - Adrian Moore - Signal - Christian Bouchard - Anemone - Kangding Ray - Louis Dufort - Hildur Gudnadóttir - Wolfgang Voigt - Marc Tremblay - Atom Tm - The Three Suns - Åke Parmerud - Emptyset - Spontaneous Music Ensemble - Ivor Darreg Visuals: Simone Memè

#Økapi #Aldo Kapi's Orchestra #plunderphonics #turntablism #messiaen #2023 #modern classical

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tightbrosnetwork · 2 years ago

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KBC is only two weeks away, and we are thrilled to share the latest lineup with you! Join the vibrant and exploratory #KirkwoodBallersClub, the avant-garde monthly forum as it celebrates its 19th year on Thursday, March 16 at the eyedrum art & music gallery. KBC has a history of moving to different venues, including now-defunct places like Lenny’s Bar, 11:11 Teahouse, The Highland Ballroom, and The Big House. It even had a stint at The Star Bar in Little Five Points. KBC also had a brief New York version in 2011 at Brooklyn's Zebulon Concert Cafe. The year 2021 saw the resurgence of the eyedrum art & music gallery, ushering in a fresh iteration of the Kirkwood Ballers Club. The KBC's revitalized spirit has captivated a brand new generation of musicians and performance artists, eagerly signing up for a 15-minute slot. The evening's enduring motto, "Bring an instrument, record, beat, turntable, laptop, prepared piece, song, film score, voice, bag of blood, agenda..." invites an eclectic assortment of creative expressions. Over the years, KBC has hosted notable figures in Atlanta such as Girl Talk, a mashup artist, Jana Hunter, a songwriter, and John Dwyer of psych-punk group Osees.

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stealreserve211 · 1 month ago

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Huge list of album recommendations (continually updated)

Gille' Loves - 薔薇彩の吸血鬼 (Gothic rock, Visual kei)

Prefab Sprout - Swoon (sophistipop, indie pop)

SOS Band - Sands of Time (synthfunk, boogie, disco)

Happy Rhodes - Rhodes I (singer-songwriter, freak folk, prog)

David Sylvian - Brilliant Trees (art pop, singer songwriter)

Nelories - Mellow Yellow Fellow (Shibuya kei, indie pop)

The Kinbotes - S/t 1984 (lofi rock, indie rock, outsider music)

Dream Dolphin - Atmospheric Healing (ambient, new age, downtempo)

Muslimgauze - Mullah Said (tribal ambient, dub techno)

Antonio Vega - Oceano del Sol (alternative rock, singer songwriter)

Terry Allen - Juarez (outlaw country, alt country)

03 Greedo - Purple Summer (hip hop, cloud rap, trap)

Acetone - S/t (1997) (slowcore, alt country, indie rock)

Marine Timekeepers - A Perfect Knowledge of Dreams (dream pop)

Strawberry Switchblade - S/t (dream pop, synthpop)

Steve Hiett - Down on the Road by the Beach (Ambient rock, singer-songwriter, surf rock)

Jim O'Rourke - Simple Songs (indie rock, singer-songwriter)

Angel'in Heavy Syrup - IV (psychedelic rock, noise rock)

Maniac Mansion - Collection Plate (underground hip hop, outsider music)

Maria Kannon - Maria Kannon (1991) (psychedelic rock, garage rock)

Felt - Ignite the Seven Cannons (jangle pop, post punk)

Durrutti Column - LC (post punk, dream pop)

The Chameleons - Script of the Bridge (post punk, gothic rock)

Laughing Clowns - Ghosts of an Idea (post punk)

Kan Mikami - Mikami Kan no Sekai (singer-songwriter, avant folk, enka)

Todd Edwards - Prima Edizione (UK garage, garage house)

Pictures - Pictures (1983) (art pop, experimental)

Johnny "Guitar" Watson - I Don't Want to Be Alone, Stranger (Funk, soul)

The Orb - Orbus Terrarum (ambient, downtempo, sound collage)

Annie - Anniemal (Electropop, dance pop)

Mandy More (with one 'o', not Mandy Moore) - But That is Me (singer-singer-songwriter, folk, psychedelic pop)

Ka - The Thief Next to Jesus (concious hip hop, abstract hip hop)

Todd Rundgren - Something / Anything (psychedelic rock, pop, singer-songwriter)

Djavan - S/t (1989) (MPB, sophistipop)

A Forest Called Mulu - A Search for the Unexplored (trance, downtempo, trip hop)

Strange Boutique - The Loved One (dream pop)

Gigi Masin - Wind (ambient)

Main Attrakionz - 808s & Dark Grapes II (cloud rap)

Revolutionary Army of the Infant Jesus - The Gift of Tears (psychedelic folk, avant folk)

Bear Garden - I am a Gardener (singer-songwriter, indie pop, electronic)

The Wake - Here Comes Everybody (dream pop, jangle pop)

Negativland - Escape the Noise (plunderphonics, sound collage)

Mike Oldfield - On Hergest Ridge (new age, ambient folk, celtic)

High Tide - Sea Shanties (heavy psych, prog rock)

Bigg Jus - The Black Mamba Syrums pt. 1 (experimental hip hop, concious hip hop, turntablism)

Tales of Terror - S/t 1984 (Hardcore punk, horror punk)

Chrome - Alien Soundtracks (Experimental rock, post punk, noise rock)

Cressida - Asylum (psychedelic rock, prog rock)

Telex - Wonderful World (synth pop, electro)

Sophie & Peter Johnston - S/t 1987 (synthpop, singer-songwriter, new wave)

Exposé - Exposure (freestyle, pop)

ILoveMakonnen - Drink More Water 3 (hip hop, singer songwriter)

Sequentia - Canticles of Ecstasy (classical music, gregorian chant)

Harry Case - In a Mood (synthfunk)

#music #music recommendation #album recommendation

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kickmag · 1 month ago

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Upcoming Documentary About House Pioneer Ron Hardy Has A Crowdfunding Campaign

Chicago house music pioneering DJ and remixer Ron Hardy is getting a new documentary made about his life. Director Vito Nicholas has set up a Kickstarter campaign to raise money for I Was There: The Rise of House Music in Chicago. Hardy inspired a new generation of artists with his intense style of playing music that was sped up and many times played backwards on his turntables at the Music Box nightclub during the '80s. He made sure that disco didn't die and nurtured its successor, called house, by adding new songs to Chicago's dancefloors and using rhythm and sound effects as a weapon against the propaganda of Disco Demolition Night.

Frankie Knuckles pioneered the house sound with more professionalism and politeness at the Power Plant and Warehouse Clubs, but Hardy was an avant-garde underground hero with no restrictions on what he did in the DJ Booth. Hardy's live remixes gave inspiration to legends like Jesse Saunders, Steve "Silk" Hurley, Farley Jackmaster Funk, and more. Unfortunately, Hardy died young, at the age of 33 in 1991, as a victim of the A.I.D.S. epidemic, and he never became as known as other artists from the scene. Nicholas has interviewed house legend Robert Owens and others to uncover Hardy's legend and reveal the true story of house music. The crowdfunding campaign is scheduled to end in October.

#ron hardy #house music #chicago

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fineartsjournal · 7 months ago

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213341 Art Studio IIIA ⋆ Week 7 - It's Like Breathing

If you’ve heard David Bowie’s Space Oddity, then you’ve probably heard the Mellotron. A beefy keyboard running a tape loop, it was expensive, but cheaper than a string section. It was also what we would later call a sampler.

Tape degrades with time, however. Digital doesn’t, and electronic engineer Roger Linn addressed this with his LinnDrum, introduced in 1980 as the LM-1. Unlike previous drum machines, Linn’s used a chip, sampling acoustic drums rather than generating synthetic ‘clicks’.

A year later, E-mu systems would come through with the Emulator, a sampling keyboard that worked - with a 128kb capacity - off a floppy disk that the artist themselves would supply. While swapping the sample 'source’ was possible in previous samplers, to be able to record onto a floppy disc was cheaper, more accessible - and you didn’t have to rewire the damn thing to do it!

In 1984, AKAI would bring Roger Linn’s expertise along for the S612, a rack-mounted sampler designed to be connected with a MIDI keyboard.

MIDI, or Musical Instrument Digital Interface, had been introduced some years prior as a standardised 'language’ between different makes of synthesiser, and saw the creation of MIDI instruments - that don’t synthesise sounds themselves, but rather trigger sounds on a MIDI-connected device.

MIDI is in just about any digital instrument worth its salt nowadays.

Collaborating on the production of Death Grips’ avant-garde 2014 album N[____]s on The Moon, Bjork provided the band with a number of her vocal samples, with which the drummer, Zach Hill, connected, via MIDI, to different pads on his electronic drum set.

The second half of Big Dipper features a solo entirely made out of MIDI Bjork noises. It’s beautiful.

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In 1988, the modern sampler was born. The Akai MPC60 is what was called a groovebox - an all-in-one workstation designed for affordable, accessible use. Samples could be loaded on, edited, and assigned to big juicy pads for replaying. The whole thing was portable too; the people’s sampler.

Four years later, a struggling artist that we now know as DJ Shadow saved up his money and brought one.

Mastering his craft, DJ Shadow released his debut album Endtroducing in 1996, a culmination of two years of entirely sample-based composing; minimally produced on the MPC60, a turntable, and an eight-track tape recorder. It’s straightforward.

Oh, but it pays off. With front-to-back trip-hop instrumentals, DJ Shadow put the beats to the forefront, the samples the main attraction. Hours a day, spent at the record store, listened to over and over for the perfect little snipped, every sample raising its voice, stating its case, and leaving politely.

One of my favorite examples of this is on Organ Donor, where an organ sample of a descending scale is transformed into a groovy solo. Listening closer, every note from the sampled organ has been assigned and re-arranged on the sampler. Y'know, he could’ve just brought a keyboard, but he didn’t.

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Presentation week! Chasing down Mike at last, we got to talking as to the audio side of Em and I's dual presentation.

A projector was already set up, but speakers still needed to be brought in. He let me borrow a pocket MP3 drive to load my track onto, which would then connect via Bluetooth to the speakers. Meeting two days later, and bringing in the speakers, we had a little tech test, and things were working well.

On the day of critique, I came in 10 minutes before class, set up the tech, and all was good! It feels nice to have things go right.

CRITIQUE TIME, BABY.

Aside from some hiccups with the projector, presentation went just as planned. The speakers were fantastic, and as the critique group walked in for viewing, neither our pieces were beginning or ending.

Following a full four-minute cycle of my song, they had this to say:

The audio achieved a calming atmosphere, at points nostalgic, and even descending into an eerie distortion; flowing in forward, circular motion that neither ended nor began. The ambience created by this soundscape would likely work well with most visuals, remaining ‘level’ in its tonality throughout.

While both pieces were made separate to one another, the two pieces sync to the degree that they appear inseparable, to which the experience would differ without one another.

In watching, the mind yearns for a narrative, as Em’s hopping, dancing motions appear to respond to the music. Fabric bellowed and swayed like butterfly wings, evoking the emotions towards the slow, comfortable sounds that came and went in forward progression; that moved in ‘one direction’ that reflected the forward motions of the video.

Although sonically enjoyable, it doesn’t come across as a work of plunderphonics. The sound palette and smooth transitions progressed with too little markings of its choppy creation process, looping not as the focus, but as the accompaniment to Em’s video.

Over-polishing seems to be the issue behind these issues of distinction– if I wanted to better convey the actions of sampling, there could always be a more jarring variety of sounds present; even drawing from non-music samples – and still striking that balance of audible creation and visual representation.

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funkatello · 10 months ago

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Why Darlinghurst Should Be Your Next Restaurant Hop in Sydney

Sydney has a lively dining scene. It always has new restaurants and concepts. They keep our taste buds interested and satisfied. Darlinghurst has the est best Italian food in Sydney. It is underrated but worth visiting. The food is great and it is a nice change of scenery. This area has special old buildings, small shops, and a mix of different cultures.

It's a great place to go out at night because it combines old-fashioned charm with delicious food from both well-known places and new ones that are changing the way we think about hospitality. Join us as we explore Darlinghurst's restaurants. Discover Sydney's new iconic eat street.

1. Savour Classic Trattoria Ambience

Checkered tablecloths, straw-wrapped wine bottles, operatic soundtrack, and effusive waitstaff instantly transport diners into festive Italian moods. Your post-work stress evaporates instantly when you are seated. The Apollo is a restaurant in Sydney. This Darlinghurst restaurant serves traditional regional pastas and wood-fired pizzas. The food is full of incredible flavors. They also have Italian red wines. The prices are reasonable. Try our signature sporting boards. They have cured meats, marinated veggies, and piquant cheeses. They are delicious and rustic.

2. Sample Inventive Modern Eclectic Plates

Sydney is a dynamic city with diverse cultures. It has bold culinary marriages that showcase fusion results on sharing plates. Nomad is a restaurant that serves a unique menu. Stanley street restaurants have interesting dishes like miso-marinated chicken tacos, green curry arancini balls, za'atar manoushe flatbreads, and maple bacon glazed Brussels sprouts. These dishes combine different flavors in a surprising way. Their kitchen is trendsetting. It deserves applause. They push boundaries. They advance Australian food identities. They do it progressively and respectfully.

3. Experience Dinner and Show Dazzle

Do you want to have a great time going out at night, enjoying cocktails, canapes, and entertainment in a stylish way? The Dragon Phoenix is a sparkling place. It has lanterns and turntables. Singers and dancers perform there. It is very exciting! Executive Chef Victor Lee creates delicious yum-cha banquets. The menu includes crispy duck pancakes, caramelized Berkshire pork bellies, XO prawn dumplings, and silky handmade egg noodles. The food is visually stunning.

4. Catch Legendary Hospitality Class

A Sydney food safari is incomplete without paying respect to institutions that have defined world-famous hospitality for decades. Bar Coluzzi was launched in 1953. It serves as a spiritual home for espresso coffee culture. They are known for their trademark velvety brews and Milkshake thick hot chocolates.

People enjoy these drinks in cozy Victorian surroundings. Bar Coluzzi became popular before Starbucks arrived. Their legacy is in Australian coffee history books. Visit the Darlinghurst restaurant to see the iconic living heritage. They still serve steamy cups with character every day. It brings joy to generations and creates lasting memories. Classics are priceless.

The conclusion.

Darlinghurst has a special village-style hospitality. It combines classic trattorias, artistic avant-garde eateries, and legendary pioneering cafes. This makes restaurant hopping in Darlinghurst irresistible. It is a unique and inventive experience that is very Sydney. Visit Funkatello. Experience these winsome gems personally. I recommend them wonderfully!

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impress-vinyl · 1 year ago

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The Vinyl Record Sleeve and It's Significance

In the age of digital music dominance, the vinyl record has staged a triumphant comeback, capturing the hearts of audiophiles and music enthusiasts. The vinyl experience is a holistic one, involving not just the rich, analog sound but also the tangible, visual journey that begins with the vinyl record sleeve. This unassuming protective cover is far more than a mere housing for the vinyl; it is a gateway to sonic stories, a canvas for artistic expression, and a vessel of nostalgia. In this exploration, we delve into the significance of the vinyl record sleeve, examining its role in the revival of vinyl culture.

1. Guardian of Analog Sound

The primary function of the vinyl record sleeve is protection – shielding the delicate grooves of the record from dust, scratches, and environmental elements. In the vinyl realm, where the pursuit of pristine sound is paramount, the sleeve acts as a guardian, ensuring that the analog sound remains unblemished. Audiophiles understand that the condition of the vinyl directly influences the quality of the auditory experience, and the sleeve plays a pivotal role in preserving this sonic fidelity.

2. Aesthetic Portal to Music

While protection is fundamental, the vinyl record sleeve is also a visual portal to the sonic world within. Iconic album covers, from the psychedelic swirls of the '60s to the avant-garde designs of today, adorn these sleeves, turning them into miniature art galleries. The significance lies not just in the artistic expression itself but in the seamless marriage of visual and auditory elements. The cover becomes an integral part of the storytelling process, inviting listeners to engage with the music on a multi-sensory level.

3. Preservation of Album Artwork

Album artwork is more than decoration; it's a form of visual storytelling. The vinyl record sleeve ensures that this artwork, often carefully curated to complement the music, remains intact and accessible. From gatefold designs that unfold into panoramic vistas to inner sleeves housing additional artwork or lyrics, the sleeve preserves the complete artistic package, allowing listeners to immerse themselves fully in the album's visual narrative.

4. Connection to Music History

Vinyl records are time capsules, encapsulating specific moments in music history. The record sleeve, adorned with liner notes, credits, and other contextual information, becomes a tangible link to the past. Collectors cherish sleeves that provide insights into the recording process, the musicians involved, or the socio-cultural climate of the time. In this way, the vinyl record sleeve becomes not just a protective cover but a historical document, telling the story of music through the ages.

5. Collector's Pride and Rarity

For vinyl enthusiasts, the sleeve is as much a part of the collectible allure as the record itself. Limited edition releases, special packaging, and unique sleeve designs add an extra layer of value to vinyl acquisitions. Collectors take pride in owning records with rare or specially designed sleeves, turning the pursuit of vinyl into a treasure hunt where the sleeve is as coveted as the vinyl it houses.

6. Personalization and Artistic Expression

The vinyl record sleeve is a canvas for artistic expression, providing artists with a platform to convey their visual identity. From album cover art to innovative packaging designs, the sleeve allows for a level of personalization that transcends the auditory realm. It becomes a tangible representation of the artist's vision and a testament to the belief that the music experience extends beyond the audio waves.

7. The Ceremonial Unveiling

The act of sliding a vinyl record out of its sleeve is a ritual. It's a moment of anticipation, a deliberate and ceremonial unveiling that sets the stage for the sonic journey about to unfold. The tactile sensation of holding the sleeve, admiring the artwork, and carefully placing the record on the turntable contributes to the immersive and intentional experience that defines vinyl culture. The vinyl record sleeve, in this context, is not just a cover but an integral part of the ritual that makes vinyl unique.

Conclusion:

In the resurging world of vinyl, the vinyl record sleeve is not a mere accessory; it is a vital companion on the sonic odyssey. Beyond its protective role, the sleeve is a storyteller, a curator of visual artistry, and a time traveler connecting us to the music of the past. It is a testament to the enduring allure of analog sound and the timeless marriage of music and visual expression. As vinyl continues to weave its melodic spell, let us not forget to appreciate and celebrate the significance of the vinyl record sleeve – a humble yet indispensable companion on our musical journeys.

Source: Importance of record sleeves

#importance of record sleeves

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nickward · 2 years ago

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what are some of your long term and short term goals?

didn't organise into short and long but

be able to live off music comfortably for the rest of my life

own my own studio and be able to make whatever I want

if full circle and our friends can contribute to a wave/revival of music here in australia (and worldwide)

have music on vinyl

compose a film soundtrack (to a great movie)

eventually branch out into classical/avant garde music but still have a foot in the pop world like brian eno

criterion closet video

amoeba what's in my bag video

create a truly, truly great piece of work

would love to learn how to be a good DJ

have a nice pair of speakers/turntable

exec produce someone else's record

go overseas for music (i've done this to work on other ppl's music but not for my own)

would love to be able to travel more. india, vietnam, italy, norway, taiwan, africa

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lovejustforaday · 2 years ago

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2022 Year End List - #2

Aethiopes - Billy Woods

Main Genres: Conscious Rap, Abstract Rap, Experimental Rap, Political Rap

A decent sampling of: Jazz Rap

WARNING: This album features very graphic and disturbing lyrical imagery, and explicitly discusses addiction, poverty, and institutional racism.

After spending a few years getting into his work as one half of the socially conscious, socialist-leaning abstract hip hop duo Armand Hammer, I finally decided to check out Billy Woods solo material. According to many of the online music spaces that I frequent, I could not have picked a better time.

Woods himself is a man radical both in thought and in his approach to his songcraft. He has been somewhat of a dark horse in the New York hip hop scene for many years now, and he almost had to quit making music at one point. Essentially, he is one of the very most scholarly and lyrically gifted rappers in hip hop today, a true lexicomane, and in general is just way too slept on.

As part of Armand Hammer, Billy Woods is a bit of a Blue Oni to Elucid’s Red, more often taking to a slightly more reserved and introspective delivery, where Elucid often spits rhymes with a more brazen appetite. Regardless, both of them can really tear up a mic and dish out some very intellectual, brute force lyricism.

I was a big fan of Armand Hammer’s ferocious and highly political 2020 LP Shrines, less so of their collaboration with The Alchemist on their 2021 LP Haram. Going into my first Woods solo record with an entirely different lead producer, I didn’t really know what to expect. Fortunately, I was blown away.

Billy Wood’s latest record Aethiopes is a mix of smoldering images of violence and poverty, ideological subversion of the systems of power and post-colonialism, and a raw, cold, venomous, and avant-garde production style courtesy of his collaborations with producer Preservation. This is the sound of a seasoned veteran from the underground showing everyone else how it’s done, creating his own entirely contained world of bleak and labyrinthine storytelling.

The second track “No Hard Feelings” really sets the stage for this record, with strange horns that evoke air raid sirens. My mind’s eye immediately visualizes cracked concrete and flickering street lights. On just this one track alone, Woods addresses the relationship between poverty and addiction, personal guilt in the face of other’s misfortune, and the Global North’s ongoing exploitation of African peoples and their continent. Woods’ highly animated and severe expression feels like something really critical and dire is about to happen, as if the record itself is going to cause an earth-shattering event. One hell of a track, and one of the three or four very best songs of the year.

The uproar is silenced immediately with “Wharves”, a sinister and invasive little track of rippling beats and a disquieting gamelan melody. Woods describes vivid, beastly imagery of cannibalism, mirroring how the powerful cannibalize the poor and the marginalized.

“Sauvage” is a paranoia-inducing, unsolved puzzle of a hip hop track, with a minimalist beat of disparate sound effects brought together like some sort of auditory code. I feel like this is the kind of beat that is incredibly hard to pull off correctly, even more so rap over. Likewise, this track astounded me the first time I heard it. Experimental rap done masterfully.

“NYNEX” is absolute madness from start to finish. The beat stutters and clucks, and is what I imagine the last foundation of sanity in your mind snapping under the pressure of society would sound like. Excellent features all around including Denmark Vessey and Armand Hammer’s own second half Elucid, but it’s Quelle Chris who really steals the show here with the last verse. “That’s no cap all caps at the same time” is a very witty line.

The sense of menace continues with “Heavy Water”, featuring El-P and Breeze Brewin on top of some very old-school turntablism, and a jazzy beat right out of a mafia movie.

The record closes with the ghostly sorrow of “Smith + Crosses”, a mournful piece that reflects on the legacy of anti-black colonial violence and the slave trade, and how it continues to manifest in the modern world. It is a bitter ending that’s befitting for a record that explores such uncensored ugliness in both our past and present.

I feel like this will be a grower as I continue to digest this project. It is immensely dense lyrically and production wise, and some of it still confounds me and is not as immediate as the other tracks, but then I feel that my feelings are definitely subject to positive change (possible future 10/10?).

But even as it is right now, this is one of my absolute favourite records of the year. Aethiopes is a highly intellectual and mind-bending piece of art that was so obviously crafted with great care in a way few records are. Billy Woods has no competition in the rap game right now, because he is doing his own singular, incredibly profound thing.

9/10

Highlights: “No Hard Feelings”, “NYNEX”, “Sauvage”, “Wharves”, “Smith + Cross”, “Heavy Water”, “Protoevangelium”

#billy woods #aethiopes #experimental hip hop #conscious rap #abstract rap #political rap #2022 #aoty #year end list #list #album review #music review #best music #hip hop

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