#family ravine

[dustedmagazine]

Dust Volume 8, Number 12

Blood Incantation (but not Blood/Incantation)

Dusted closes out 2022 with blood and incantation.

Specifically, this Dust features two separate recordings with identical band names, one a split release by a pair of metal bands, one named Blood, the other Incantation, the other also metal but more atmospheric whose name is Blood Incantation.  It’s a lot of blood. A lot of incantation.

But never fear if your tastes are less sanguinary. We’ve also got experimental klezmer, power pop, sound art, new weird traditionalism, synth pop, deep house, death metal and jazz both free and more traditional. This edition’s contributors include Bryon Hayes, Jennifer Kelly, Bill Meyer, Jonathan Shaw, Ian Mathers, Patrick Masterson and Jim Marks.

Baltic Furs — Contemporary Ruin (Round Bale Recordings)

Contemporary Ruin by Baltic Furs

For its final release of 2022, the Minnesota-based Round Bale Recordings label offers a cassette from someone in its inner circle. Baltic Furs is the alter ego of Matt Irwin, a graphic designer whose optical artistry enswathes some of the label’s output. Irwin is a drummer-cum-synthesist whose aural hue leans toward the inky black end of the spectrum. On Contemporary Ruin, both Irwin’s percussionist origins and his tendency toward the inchoate are on display. Dreamlike, dimly lit images attempt to bring themselves into focus as warped, bell-shaped tones emanate from unholy objects. Irwin is signalling the coming of an impending disaster: it could be the end of the world or a demon emerging from its resting place. He’s happy to let the listener decide their fate. The latter half of the cassette begets emergent strains of melody that seem to brighten as the music runs its course. The tenderness is nascent and without form, but it’s also indicative that Contemporary Ruin is the first page in the next chapter of Irwin’s engaging narrative.

Bryon Hayes

 Black Ox Orkestar — Everything Returns (Constellation)

Everything Returns by Black Ox Orkestar

Even when it dances, klezmer has a melancholic air. It commemorates, after all, a Jewish-East European culture that flourished despite centuries of persecution until ending, abruptly, in the Holocaust. True, Jewish emigres brought this rollicking but wistful concoction of clarinet and fiddle, elegy and celebration, with them in the diaspora. It reached, even, the experimental precincts of Montreal, where members of Godspeed You! Black Emperor and Thee Silver Mt. Zion formed Black Ox Orkestar in the early aughts, then left it fallow for a decade and a half. Everything Returns is their lovely (and timely) return, a pensive exploration of cross-cultural discourse that melds Jewish, gypsy, Arab and European traditions in bittersweet rumination. This is music made of shadows and sighs, but ready, nonetheless, for the fight. It’s opening salvo, “Tish Nign,” layers wordless vocals over piano, then gathers its strength in martial cadences of bass clarinet. “Skotshne” sparkles with cimbalom, a dulcimer-like instrument with a ghostly echo; it skitters over a skeletal foundation of drums and acoustic bass. But it’s “Viderkol” that stops you short, a dusky lament hedged in by the low hum of clarinet, a run of piano. Even sung in English, it has a foreign, historical aura, as the principals remember the lost with the gentlest, least bitter sort of sadness. “There’s something in us that could make us whole,” they sing, and maybe they mean music and remembering.

Jennifer Kelly

 Blood/Incantation — Split 7” (Hell’s Headbangers)

Not Blood Incantation, but Blood and Incantation (see what they did there?) collaborate on this divertingly atavistic split record. Blood Incantation seems to provide the newest front opened in the Hipster Metal Wars — and to be honest, this reviewer can’t really fault the offended (“ambient death metal?”). If anyone might have any sort of right to defend the traditional boundaries of the kingdom of Metal ov Death, the dudes in Blood might be able to claim it. The German band has been making records since 1986, and the two new tracks on this split record are still the same old moldy stuff, a grinding, guttural assault on good taste. Incantation is by contrast the fresher face, having only started releasing music 1990—but the band certainly has the bigger name. Their tune, “Quantum Firmament,” is also the more engaging side of the split. Whether you find this record to be more than a sort of scenester-snarky, vinyl-mediated pun may depend on the degree of your interest in Incantation’s music; if you dig the band, “Quantum Firmament” is worth hearing.

Jonathan Shaw 

 Blood Incantation — Timewave Zero (Century Media)

Denver death metal psychonauts Blood Incantation have never concealed their love of ambient, cosmische, new age synths, et al. They also were clear even before putting out their second record Hidden History of the Human Race that their third would be their own entry into those fields. A 40-minute, two-track EP, Timewave Zero has (based on comments) clearly come as an unpleasant surprise to a grouchy, vocal minority of their existing fanbase. but those more into avowed influence Klaus Schulze than blastbeats, death metal growls and intense riffs will find that Blood Incantation know what they’re doing. This isn’t just the quartet noodling around with some neat synth sounds; there’s pacing, sculpting and evidence of a compositional eye on both halves of the EP. Timewave Zero, then, is admirable on multiple fronts, both as a totally solid record and as evidence of a band determined to follow its muse even in the face of requests to keep making more of the same.

Ian Mathers 

 Dazy — OUTOFBODY (Lame-O)

OUTOFBODY by Dazy

Power pop is harder than it looks. It balances on a knife edge between crusty fuzz and open-hearted tunefulness, and it’s easily tipped towards noise or daffiness. But James Goodson, out of Richmond, gets the blend just about right, a bit to the sweet side of Teenage Fan Club, a bit more muscular than the Raspberries. Indeed, the buzzy, frictive “On My Way” sounds like the Dirtbombs crossed with James, which is to say gloriously clangorous but with its earnest heart showing. “Motionless Parade” swoons and jangles in the vein of True West and the Rain Parade, while “Choose Your Ramone” hilariously amps it up, with a blistering, squalling guitar solo that is neither Joey nor Johnny. Goodson may never be a big star (or a Big Star), but it’s fun watching him try.

Jennifer Kelly

 Bruno Duplant — Nox (Unfathomless)

nox by Bruno Duplant

Art reckons with life on Nox, which is one of the nine full-length recordings that the ultra-productive French sound artist has realized in 2022. The artist’s statement references observations, both recent and antique, of certain bad navigational habits of humans, to wit, they closely circle things that will scorch them. At least moths, who aren’t noted for their brain mass, have an excuse… But even if you aren’t acquainted with the musician’s intent, you’re likely to grasp this immersive, 40-minute-long piece’s intimations of decay. Gathered and generated sounds creak, crackle, and bob around the listener like the chunks of debris that swirled around your surfboard that one time you fell asleep on the beach at low tide and woke up in the middle of the Great Pacific Garbage Patch.

Bill Meyer

 Kelman Duran — “Loko” (self-released)

Kelman Duran is a low-key LA-based Dominican producer who’s made his name on art school dancehall and reggaeton edits, notably 2017’s excellent 1804 Kids. But “Loko” is another animal, blisteringly zooted deep house filth all taut and suspended in that leery-eyed fork in the road where the head says no and makes the good decision but the heart speaks louder, beats yes, makes an ellipsis for you to fill in. Adriana Roslin’s epileptic video (in which she appears, by the way) is the perfect accompaniment, exuding the self-assured swagger of a fashion school grad-turned-social media manager by day and club rat queen by night; you’ll see what I mean when you watch. It’s unclear if this is a brief diversion from his usual speed or a turn toward a more permanent 4/4 producing mode, but either way, Duran has left one of the best dance tracks of 2022 rather late in the going. How late? Consider: At the time I write this, Dust is scheduled to go live in about two hours; “Loko” has been up for less than 24. But we weren’t going to miss out. You shouldn’t, either.

Patrick Masterson

 Family Ravine — Jumpthefox (Round Bale Recordings)

Jumpthefox by Family Ravine

With his Family Ravine project, Kevin Cahill navigates a similar path to that of Henry Flynt, welding his avant-garde sensibility to traditional musical styles. Jumpthefox follows hot on the heels of Away & Instinct, and both records document Cahill’s polyglot approach to music making. The musician has created an Interzone-like fusion of American, British and European folk forms, which he has processed through his tireless creative instinct. Cahill builds a fluid-like loam from loops and fragments, which he layers repeatedly into a strange topography. Working primarily with stringed instruments and melodica, Cahill materializes his songs in a spectrum of shades, from shimmering and bright to muted and foreboding. It must be magical to hear his songs being crafted in real time, but we’ll have to settle for experiencing the finished product. This writer is certainly not complaining.

Bryon Hayes

  Hot Chip — Freakout/Release (Domino)

Consistent quality is a great asset for a band and a thrill for fans, but it can have the opposite of a silver lining for us music writers. Freakout/Release is another topnotch set of emotionally mature, sometimes melancholy synthpop bangers from the now sort-of-venerable Hot Chip (their eighth!). It’s not as if they’re not trying new things, heck here you actually hear a couple of guest vocalists (Lou Hayter on “Hard to Be Funky” and a blistering Cadence Weapon on “The Evil That Men Do”) and the title track is more rough-and-tumble than the Chip usually gets. “Down” rides a Universal Togetherness Band sample to dancefloor glory, while tracks like the hopeful “Broken” and the gossamer “Not Alone” show their more emotive strengths. It’s another great record in a career full of them, and if it’s hard to know what more to say, it feels unfair to them to leave it at that.

Ian Mathers

 Keefe Jackson / Jim Baker /Julian Kirschner — Routines (Kettlehole)

Routines by Keefe Jackson / Jim Baker / Julian Kirshner

Routines? I don’t know. On the one hand, the title might acknowledge that the three musicians on the album can, either together or separately, be counted upon to be heard in some small space that hosts Chicagoan improvisers, on a pretty routine basis. But the music itself is far from routine, unless you want to take a step back and acknowledge that each musician habitually figures out apposite responses to any given situation. Jim Baker can be relied upon to completely change any sound environment with a pivot of his seat, since that will determine whether one is going to hear his restlessly assertive voice on the piano and or the ozone-scorching sizzles he obtains from his ARP 2600. Keefe Jackson can likewise be counted upon to be equally engaged playing either sopranino or tenor saxophone, but lightning disruption he launches from the first differs profoundly from the mercurial forcefulness he summons on the second. Kirshner can also be expected to keep things moving without lapsing into cliché. But the trio keeps enough variables in play that you’ll never know quite how the music is going to get from start to end.

Bill Meyer

 Philip Jeck — Resistenza (Touch)

Resistenza by Philip Jeck

Touch has never been about staying in the past, so it makes sense that the firm would experiment with new formats. Resistenza is a digital-only recording issued on what would have been the 70th birthday of the late Philip Jeck, whose passing was just one of those that has made 2022 an especially rough slog. It’s simultaneously a bit sad and quite poetic that the first (and hopefully not last) posthumous release by an artist whose work was all about the stubborn physicality of vinyl would be a non-physical edition. It comprises two live recordings, both made in 2017-18. The more recent is “Live in Torino,” a fittingly ephemeral sequence of sounds snatched from old records and manipulated into ghostly scraps that spin and bob like the luminous traces left by deep sea fishes. “The Longest Wave,” which was recorded in Jeck’s home town of Liverpool, is quite the opposite. Jeck is joined by Jonathan Raisin, whose piano trills augment Jeck’s already lush flow. The best moments come when the turntablist breaks out some sub-aquatic bass figures that ballast Raisin’s delay-dampened drizzle of notes.

Bill Meyer 

 Niko Karlsson — Its Own Phantom (Feeding Tube)

Its Own Phantom by Niko Karlsson

Look out the window of your Finnish country cabin in the winter and your view is likely to be reduced to a few essentials. Grey sky, green trees, white snow — that’s about it. Its Own Phantom is an apt soundtrack for an afternoon spent gazing upon such a vista. None of its tracks are in a hurry, and each sweep of hand across strings (mostly guitar, sometimes banjo or sitar) unleashes a stream of melodious sound that’ll draw your mind into an imaginary space situated somewhere beyond the farthest visible fir. The term “acid folk” implies a potentially psychedelic experience generated by not entirely voltage dependent means. Let’s call this tape snowshoe folk; it may not induce hallucinatory states, but it has its own way of elevating the listener beyond the cold ground.

Bill Meyer

Eva Klesse Quartett — Songs Against Loneliness (Enja)

Songs against loneliness by Eva Klesse Quartett

Holiday season got you feeling isolated? Eva Klesse is here to help you feel better with Songs Against Loneliness. This new set of jazz originals by her quartet (joined occasionally by guitarist Wolfgang Muthspiel) is soothing but not sleepy. Klesse, a drummer, composed five of the 13 tracks here, and the other members of the group, Evgeny Ring on sax, Marc Muellbauer on double bass and Philip Frischkorn on piano, contributed the rest of the compositions.

In practice, apart from the titles of the tracks (“Glory Glory Misfits,” “Der Eremit,” and so on), there is nothing ponderous (or overly perky) about the melodies and arrangements on display here. The quartet’s decade of playing and recording together (apart from Muellbauer, who replaces Robert Lucaciu this time around) is evident in its cohesiveness. Muthspiel and Klesse have worked together before, and his contributions here are fully integrated into the quartet’s sound, beginning with the poignant chords that open the title track “Minor Is What I Feel.” That track and some of the others seem carefully composed, while others, such as “Past, Tense,” are more improvisation. This cut builds slowly from a solo by Muellbauer to the full quartet. Klesse’s rattling percussion keeping things together without ever quite settling on a rhythm.

So take heart if you’re feeling left out and let these well-crafted tunes serve as your soundtrack for the journey back from loneliness. And if you’re already in the holiday spirit, Songs Against Loneliness will help keep you feeling warm and fuzzy.

Jim Marks

 Mdou Moctar — Niger EP Vol. 2 (Matador)

Niger EP Vol. 2 by Mdou Moctar

This is the second in a series to collect early cassette tape recordings of the Niger-ian guitar phenomenon as he and his band travelled, often by bus, to informal gigs: weddings, rehearsals, house parties. The vibe is not much different from Moctar’s studio recordings, pacing torrid runs of guitar with homespun handclaps and hand drums. The difference comes in the ambient sounds. A motorcycle zooms away at the end of “Iblis Amghar,” birds chirp and people go on with the ordinary activities in their lives, even with such incendiary music going on around them. And, indeed, it is fire, this music, balancing locomotive percussion and hypnogogic trance, as on driving, dreaming “Ibitilan” or the searing blues of “Asditke Akal.” “Chimoumounim” sounds as if it comes in from a great distance, its groove approaching, then taking up a central place in our ears and hearts. Moctar’s grooves sound great in the studio, but maybe even better here in their natural space.

Jennifer Kelly

 Mister Water Wet— Top Natural Drum (Soda Gong)

Top Natural Drum by Mister Water Wet

Top Natural Drum is Kansas City producer Iggy Romeu’s third album as Mister Water Wet. It’s also his first to arrive via a label other than West Mineral Ltd., the imprint founded by his buddy Brian Leeds, who most know as Huerco S. Although they’re connected, Romeu and Leeds have taken divergent paths. Romeu’s first two MWW outings were colorful and strange in comparison to Leeds’ grainy, monochromatic fog banks. He brews up his ambient tinctures with hints of jazz, hip hop and elements sourced from his Puerto Rican roots. Romeu is also careful to add subtle bits of the arcane to his concoctions, revealing himself to be a master crate digger. With Top Natural Drum, he drops the ambient veil to show off some rhythmic chops. The result is a series of head nodding beat-scapes sure to please those who spent the 1990s with their ears glued to the turntablism scene.  

Bryon Hayes

 The Modern Folk Trio Band — Always Be Recording (Island House)

IH-002 Always Be Recording by modern folk trio band

The Modern Folk Trio Band is actually a quintet, formed around J. Moss’s languid, liquid guitar, but including Austin Richards, Zach Barbery, Remi Lew and Trevor Schorey trading off on additional guitars, bass, drums and synthesizers. This cassette includes three tracks, two lengthy and one succinct, but all three fluid and luminous. “Diet Coke Extra Ice” winds placidly through slow, chugging lyricism, its lead guitar high and clear and full of light. “Slide Solo,” the short one, is just what its name implies, an interlude of intriguingly bent and haunted sounds, tinged by blues but not exactly boxed into it. And “Hot Jam,” the final cut, is not as viscerally physical as its title suggests, but rather a glistening, nodding, extended drone, grounded by the thud of drums but reaching always for an ethereal other-ness. Throughout, a loose improvisatory air presides. If you’re always recording, sometimes you get something good.

Jennifer Kelly

 Woody Sullender — Music from Four Movements & Other Favorites (Woody Sullender)

Music from 'Four Movements' & Other Favorites by Woody Sullender

What’s the difference between listening and performing listening? If you have the time and credit, you could take up the matter while you pursue an MFA. Or you could go to www.fourmovements.woodysullender.com and download Four Movements, a video game space that “consists of several navigable environments where the virtual participant can perform listening” and live the difference. It is the work of an artist and musician who has studied under Maryanne Amacher and previously performed banjo music under the guise, Uncle Woody Sullender, and it provides the sort of disparate yet cohesive sound experience one might expect from a person whose creative map contains such aesthetic/methodological coordinates. Cantering banjo in just intonation coexists with techno beats, a Robert Hood cover sounds like a streamlined remembrance of Conlon Nancarrow’s player piano music, and moments arise when you might wonder if this guy’s spent some salon time with Horse Lords.

Bill Meyer

 Tchornobog/Abyssal — Split LP (Lupus Lounge)

Tchornobog / Abyssal by Tchornobog

You get two epically scaled tracks of death metal-adjacent mayhem on this split LP. More bang for your buck? More yuck, for sure. Markov Soroka’s utterly whacko project Tchornobog is given the A side, and his 25-minute song “The Vomiting Choir” pummels and roils, blackened on its edges but still very much belly-down in layers of rancid muck (see that title…). There aren’t many opportunities to lift your face out of the sodden slurry and grab a breath — which is sort of impressive for a song so long, and by its halfway point, pretty oppressive, too. So, you may be grossed out by the bubbling, gurgling noises that become audible around the 11-minute mark, but at least the mix is a little less clogged up with clangor and crunch. Abyssal’s contribution, titled “Antechamber of the Wakeless Mind,” is only a minute shorter, but the song seems by contrast rather mannered, alternating slowly suppurating death-doom with long spells of churning, dissonant riffage that always feel consciously composed. The split is not a pleasant experience so much as it is an interesting experiment in differing modes of metal excess.

Jonathan Shaw 

 temp. — Taking notes (American Dreams)

Taking Notes by temp.

temp.’s Erica Mei Gamble is a producer, DJ and video archivist based in Chicago—and one half of the experimental electronic duo Dungeon Mother, but her Taking notes represents a significant step forward for the artist. It gathers music previously posted on Soundcloud into a chilly, cerebral and surprisingly cohesive statement; that is, it sounds very much like an album. It starts in wordless abstraction, the cut “Air” lofting translucent tones of synthesizer onto a pristine background. They pulse and flare like northern lights, unearthly also visceral. “Yah” finds the ghost in the machine as a human cry punctures glistening electric pulses; the cut is clean and a little spooky, like a quieter Shackleton. But it's “What’s Beyond,” performed with Gamble’s Dungeon Mother collaborator Sarah Leitten, that fully realizes the juncture between unreal, ominous sonics and fragile human consciousness. Leitten chants poetry against a seething mesh of synth tones, her words encompassing both natural and super-natural imagery (For example: “I’ll dance with the stars above/and I hold the moon in my hands/and I drink the sun with my eyes/and I am the darkness/I am the abyss.”) Later, with Emme Williams in “Trying to Climb,” Gamble stakes out a minimalist corner of the disco floor, with beats that glitch and blot and corrode and a half-remembered recorder melody tootling in the background.

Jennifer Kelly

  Wild Pink — ILYSM (Royal Mountain)

ILYSM by Wild Pink

John Ross got the idea for his song, “Hold My Hand” while lying on an operating table, waiting for the anesthetic to knock him out before surgery. Ross, who is the main creative force behind Wild Pink, found out he had cancer mid-way through recording this fourth full-length. His uncertainties around this diagnosis, combined with his dogged insistence to finish anyway, define this album, whose bright, soft indie pop textures wrap around some very dark textures. Consider, for instance, “Hell Is Cold,” with its thumping rhythms, its half-focused glitch textures, its shimmering layers of piano. Ross sings just above a whisper, here and elsewhere, in a confiding tone that tickles the hairs inside your ear. Yet while the sonically, the song bounds and wafts, its message doesn’t. “I know I’ll be free when I die,” sings Ross, and the song ends abruptly like a life snuffed out. Likewise, the title track, aims at the kind of soccer stadium anthemic-ness that sends beach balls bobbling out over festival crowds. “I love you so much,” Ross intones over surging synths and pounding drums. Still, despite its ebullience, the cut has a vertiginous feel, as if the bottom is dropping out. Like many people facing difficulties, Ross reached out to friends for aid. The album has striking cameos from Julien Baker (“Hold My Hand”) and a multigenerational brace of guitarists, J. Mascis (who rips a sidewinder “See You Better Now”), Ryley Walker (breezily anthemic in “Simple Glyphs”) and Yasmin Williams (shimmering and gorgeous in “The Grass Widow in the Glass Window”). And yet, for all that, and despite the serious subject matter, the music mostly feels bland and oversaccharine, except for the sludgy, guitar-driven fury of “Sucking on Birdshot” and, at the end, “ICLYM” shuffling out like the Beta Band in shambolic triumph.

Jennifer Kelly

[barksbog]

i want it to have cold weather but without the sun setting at 3pm

i know that's not how the rotation of earth around the sun works but a man can dream

[one-time-i-dreamt]

I was going on a joyride through the British countryside with my grandfather until we went over what seemed to be a very small hill but turned out to be a giant cliff and we both fell to our deaths into a (very scenic) ravine.

[transfemjoker]

aita for unleashing a brain-eating zombie amoeba on a new york sized city and corrupting the most powerful superheroes in the world and revealing myself as an immortal being that’s been feeding on dionesium in a cave system beneath the earth because the guy i’ve been obsessed with for 30+ years wouldn’t murder his whole family to be with me

[huntressundone]

Howdy folks! I just updated my series "Searching for a Place to Call Home" with a new work! I'm really excited 😄 This series is about Jason adopting a little wolf named Tim Drake after he finds him in the woods one night. As they grow into father and son, they work through their trauma and mend relationships in the Batfam. It's fluffy and full of platonic hurt and comfort :)

The first of the series is here if anyone wants to read it!

The most recent update is here:

[doctorbrown]

MCFLY JULY ‘24 ⸺ 「 16 / 31 * SYNCHRONICITY 」

September 12, 1885

Maggie always cautioned him his bleeding heart would get him into trouble.

He couldn’t help that, though. There was already enough suffering in the world—what harm did it do to be kind? To look after others as if they were your own?

Mr. Eastwood was a good soul. Oh, like his brother, poor Martin, may God rest his soul, he had his troubles, that all-consuming need to try and prove himself—he’d wager the farm he was somebody’s little brother too, so certain was he of that—to win the fleeting gossip of a group of people whose affections only lingered on whatever was most exciting in this dust bowl of a town.

The only people a man had to prove himself to was himself and to God.

But, like Martin, Mr. Eastwood had a heart as big as the country, caring just as much about others as he did for himself. That much was obvious that very first night he blew into their lives like a whirlwind, taking the fence with it, only to slot into their little home—their lives—almost like he belonged there.

It's funny how just a few short days can really make a man feel like he knows somebody...

And little Will had taken to him almost immediately, reinforcing his opinion that, whether this be an act of Providence or sheer luck, Clint Eastwood had entered their lives for a reason and had a place amongst them, if he so wanted.

He’d never felt quite a connection to anyone like that before, not since the day his younger brother was ripped away from him, taken somewhere he couldn’t follow. Not yet.

Just like Martin, Clint Eastwood, too, was gone, and Seamus wasn’t planning on that news to tear a hole clean through him.

Supposing it was a man’s time, there was just nothing that could be done, but like he did what feels like an eternity ago now, Seamus lifts his head heavenward and stares long and hard at the perfect blue. Squinting against the afternoon sun’s harsh light, Seamus searches for something, though he isn’t quite sure what. A glimmer in the sky, perhaps. A flash of something, a revelation, a gust of wind rolling through the countryside carrying a message for his ears only, anything.

The heat lashes across his pale cheeks as he waits. Nothing changes, not so much as an errant cloud in the sky for his troubles or to signify that someone was listening, but Seamus keeps his eyes trained on the sky.

Why, God? I did everything I could. I thought You were trying to tell me this was my second chance—isn’t that why You put Clint Eastwood in front of me, gave him Martin’s face, and gave him the same troubles?

He did it—he didn’t fight that brute, he made it out okay—and this is what he’s given for overcoming that? A freak accident sending him to the bottom of the ravine?

“Seamus!” Maggie’s voice cuts across the silence like the crack of a whip. “When you’re done, hurry up inside—we’ve got guests. Mister Brown has come to pay us a visit. He says he has something he wants to share with us. And don't you forget to wash up first!”

[notonlymice]

Emilie de Ravin as Ally Craig in Remember me (2010) [part 4]

[lolathelotus]

The Vatore Family Master Post

Lilith Vatore / Ravin Vatore

Stuart Rosa / Quest Vatore

The Beginning

Round 4

Round 5

Round 6

Round 7

[cuntwrap--supreme]

I bought a $500 vacuum for $250 as a black friday thing. Left it at my mom's because I didn't have space to move it the other day. Go to pick it up earlier. It's completely full of laundry detergent (which is what my sister uses to keep fleas off her cat?? and she thinks it cleans the carpet?????) and cat shit and I'm livid. The wand was shoved back in in a way where I had to disassemble the entire vacuum and break it a little to get it unstuck. It smells horrendous, even through the scent thingy that is supposed to prevent that. My sister's acting like it's not her fault. Says she'll buy me a new vacuum from Target, then sent me a listing for some $50 crap that by no means is the same fucking thing. I left the vacuum with all my other stuff I had to collect today, and she said she thought our mom bought a new vacuum. I asked why her new vacuum would be with all my stuff and she said she didn't even think of that. So cool! I can't return it like this and they don't sell them in stores. So here I am, $250 in the hole with a vacuum that reeks of cat shit and doesn't work right any more.

[ohanny]

yesterday i started binge watching kinnporsche with a friend who has never heard anything about it past it being a gay lil mafia show and there is something so awe inspiring about witnessing someone go in completely blind. like her face when vegas intercepted pete snooping in the hallway in ep 7 and! the way she looked at me and went "... wait. is this going to be a thing?!!?!?!" i assume this is how parents feel when they see their babies take their first steps.

[dustedmagazine]

Bryon Hayes’ 2022: Bleak, Uncertain, Beautiful…

Ayal Senior

It’s been a tumultuous year. Need I say more? 

The best part of the year for me was the return of live music. With mask on, I ventured out to see a handful of shows, beginning with Phil Elverum’s live rendition of The Microphones in 2020. I was frightened the entire time, as the unmasked throng of concert-goers around me seemed not to care about the on-going pandemic, but I emerged unscathed and with a smile on my face (hidden by my mask). Little did I know that I’d catch COVID a month later following the abolishment of the mask mandate in Ontario’s schools. I’m thankful that, unlike countless others, I survived the ordeal without any long-term health effects.

Another thing that brought me joy this year was the series of collective deep dives executed by the Dusted staff under the Listening Post banner. For me, these exercises in conversational scrutiny led to the rediscovery of artists I enjoy (The Clean, Wire, Tall Dwarfs, Broadcast) and the discovery of those I hadn’t yet investigated (Les Rallizes Dénudés, Masayuki Takayanagi, Wadada Leo Smith). It’s always pleasurable to witness my well-educated peers eloquently discuss the music that they love, and it’s a plus when I’m able to engage in the process with a comment or two of my own. 

If I had to call out a single artist that I feel had a particularly fruitful year in 2022, I’d have to pick Oren Ambarchi. Starting with the 10-year anniversary reissue of his Saggitarian Domain piece, and culminating with Shebang, Ambarchi seemed to be everywhere this year. He, Keiji Haino and Jim O’Rourke released what must be their most eclectic trio record to date, which is also their eleventh thus far. Ghosted, in which he joined up with Fire! Trio’s Johan Berthling and Andreas Werliin might just be my favorite of the bunch. And of course, we mustn’t forget Ambarchi’s Black Truffle label, which put out a number of essential releases this year. 

Last year, I listed a bunch of Canadian records that filled my bucket, but for 2022 I want to focus on one LP that I kept turning to in the latter half of the year: Ayal Senior’s Az Yashir. Senior assembled the record from tunes he worked up with Matthew “Doc” Dunn, and these acoustic 12-string meditations really enswathed my soul with their warmth. Additional embellishments include pedal steel, percussion, and a few electronic adornments, all of which come together to plant these songs in the furrowed fields first harvested by lunar raga enthusiasts MV and EE. This is unsurprising considering the pedigree of all involved.   

And finally, I know that everyone loves a list, so I shall abide. Like last year, this isn’t a “top 10” list exactly, but the following ten records feature some of the music that made this year more than bearable for me: 

Pan*American — The Patience Fader (Kranky)

Winged Wheel — No Island (12XU)

Cate Le Bon — Pompeii (Drag City)

Julia Reidy — World in World (Black Truffle)

Horsegirl — Versions of Modern Performance (Matador)

The Reds, Pinks, and Purples — Summer at Land's End (Slumberland)

Ayal Senior — Az Yashir (Medusa Editions)

Ambarchi/Berthling/Werliin — Ghosted (Drag City)

Pulse Emitter — Dusk (Hausu Mountain)

Family Ravine — Away and Instinct (Round Bale)

Bryon Hayes

[todayisafridaynight]

and if we got to see sawashiro daddy up on aoki just Once i think i wouldve cheered, applauded even

[imwritesometimes]

I don't want to take my mascara off & wash my face I just want to evaporate into another plane of existence that sounds easier

[eine-wie-wir]

Michael, Caroline hat gefragt, was ich dir sagen würde, wenn ich wüsste, dass du mich hören kannst. Ich sagte, ich weiß, dass du mich hörst: Ich liebe dich. Ich vermiss dich so sehr. Und, ich vergebe dir.

[lilibetbombshell]

[lolathelotus]

The Vatore Family Round 7

The Vatores spend one night per week watching movies together. Caleb often joins them.

As Ravin has gotten older, she has continued to connect more and more with her father, Alika. Now that Mele knows about Ravin, Alika is free to have his daughter visit on the weekends.

After meeting Mele and Alika's other children, Ravin is sad to fully realize her mother and father will mot likely never be together.

After a few years of not really pursuing her relationship with Lucia Markovic, it is all Lilith could think about this round.

While on a date with Lucia at the Windenburg Art Center, Mateo unexpectedly shows up and catches them together for the first time. Lucia and Lilith's decade-long secret affair is no longer secret.

Lucia hasn't even had time to file divorce papers yet, and Lilith is on one knee.

The Vatore Family Master Post