Category Archives: Vinyl Cut Prose

Vinyl Cut Prose: The Hills Are Alive… with the sound of muses

I riffed on The Sound of Music tribute at The 87th Annual Academy Awards Ceremony for ten minutes and twenty-eight seconds: this is the verbatim transcription…

So it would seem the hills are alive with the sound of music… the Hollywood Hills to be exact, this night, this beautiful night, Oscar Sunday… and amidst all of the flashing lights, Mother Monster, the pop mistress, the matriarch of music on behalf of a flailing industry – thought to be dead thought to be gone, thought to be sold out – rose to the occasion only to prove that all the charlatans were dead wrong.

Music is that which cements the experience of any moment, that auditory moment where those aural architects, as I said before, are able to manipulate the invisible… to be able to tap into those currents and those frequencies that you cannot see, but that you can feel stronger than any other sensory experience you’ve ever felt before… when you close your eyes, and you can feel your heart beat. When you close your eyes, and you can feel the goosebumps rising; when you can feel that ugly duckling becoming that beautiful swan, rising above it all because it found the rhythm, and it could never fall – it would falter – but never off that cliff never to never be seen again…

Continue reading Vinyl Cut Prose: The Hills Are Alive… with the sound of muses

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re:mind : on brief behalf of Pop music

In a brief defense of Pop music, I would just like to say…

Pop music is here to elevate you. Pop music exists to channel transcendence. Pop music is not relegated to a single frame of performance or musicality. Pop music is the amalgam of experiential sonic rhythm, crafted and delivered for and to the contemporary body. Pop music is founded upon Pop musicians.

The contemporary is inundated with “new” media. The contemporary is a global marketplace. The contemporary is spectacular. Pop musicians, as such, are here to reciprocate and satiate said contemporary. The contemporary is a stage, the contemporary are performers – the audience are exhibitionist voyeurs and the actors are voyeur exhibitionists, we’re all in this Factory frame together.

And so, we dance, we sing, we get up, we do our thing, we put on a show tonight, do whatever the collective they like – for the fame, so they see our face and know our name. So, know this space. Know that the ones in the brightest lights push hardest in the darkest nights, know that the ones who do it endlessly – the ones who first trigger the reflexive ennui – do it for you.

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Never Be Low Brow: Pop Canons.

Continue reading re:mind : on brief behalf of Pop music

re:take ep. 2: wonderlaust

I date many things… cities, sounds, dreams. These things happen. When I date sounds, it is a full-stop courtship: get to know their interests, their background, their dreams, with whom they engage, do they have siblings, where do they post up to get down – can they read. These things. Eventually, the dalliance fades and something worthwhile is made. Eventually, we mix a master, and reverberate rhythms of the most loyal low-fidelity.

All of this is to say, I mingle with sonic musings. I’m a made match for muses. What does a first date sound like? Like the first take. It’s slow on the uptake, but fairly deliberate. It finds a track it grooves with, and explores it from myriad angles, pitches, and plays. We talk about life, shared experiences, we find lyrical camaraderie and beat-driven commonality. We find freedom in the music. There’s liberation in improvisation. You take an understood foundation and say: “I know you, you know you – here’s how I hear you, here’s how you appear to my ears… Here’s how the finished product unravels into the unknown.”

It gets weird. It remains inspired. It leaves few scores unsettled. It’s somewhat manic. It’s experimental. It is not interested in how you move, more so in the guarantee that you move and what compels you to move at all. It, takes, its, time.

Continue reading re:take ep. 2: wonderlaust

My-Fi: 808s and Heartbreak – Kanye West

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If Graduation is Fame, 808s & Heartbreak Kills. In the wake of Graduation‘s superlative Indian summer high, 808s and Heartbreak is the inevitable comedown – the crash of the coldest winter. West described this album as “Pop Art,” in its ability to merge hip-hop credibility with mainstream appeal to innovate authentic music in a way only paralleled by Pink Floyd: Welcome to heartbreak – the dark side of the moon.

Continue reading My-Fi: 808s and Heartbreak – Kanye West

Vinyl Cut Prose: “Cheek to Cheek” – Lady GaGa, Tony Bennett

Cheek to Cheek is an aural alloy of the most masterful. Elements converge in a record album of jazz standards and one-take suzies, tears and tempos, fine-tuned fibres of the greatest art form to emerge from this American soil… classical and contemporary pillars found a musical canon of the most necessary, that which maintains the known order between high art and popular culture by collaboration and hybrid creation… in its pairing of Tony Bennett and Lady GaGa, the immense everything of said reality (think about it, think harder) Cheek to Cheek is ARTPOP, Vol. II.

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If, IF I were to blinkk this I’d probably say… don’t rush it, let it linger and waft along those invisible currents only the audible architects can manage to manipulate with their coursing lyrics and lifted crescendos…

For a girl who doesn’t wear pants, who dons only the holiest of stockings… and for a gentleman who watches an industry of beat-backed four-letter woes, where he once wailed infinite rhythms of legendary prose – anything goes. What’s old is new, and what’s new is never lost, just hidden beneath the aura of pop culture:

[Tony Bennett:]
The world has gone mad today
And good’s bad today

[Lady Gaga:]
And day’s night today
And black’s white today

[Tony Bennett:]
When most guys today that women prize today

[Lady Gaga:]
Are just silly gigolos

Heaven… I’m in Heaven… rocket number nine blast off to the planet: Heaven. Upon the melodious manifesto of eponymous nomination, one must step back from the phonograph and ask themselves: “What is an artRAVE, really and truly, beyond a neon-flashed, adrenaline-fueled speakeasy of the cheekiest nature? Boy…” When is the last time you saw divinely choreographed dialogues between musically-driven facades and figures… dancing and bad romancing in the elevated state of sonic sublime…

It was at this point in time when I pressed pause and decided, this is not a blinkk… I cannot contain the breadth of this “beat.” So, I tried something new… I riffed for a few… fifteen to be generally exact… because, well, this is The Fame... part forever and always.

 

FIFTEEN MINUTE TRANSCRIPTION

I riffed about Cheek to Cheek for fourteen minutes and fifteen seconds into a recording device. This is the verbatim transcription:

Continue reading Vinyl Cut Prose: “Cheek to Cheek” – Lady GaGa, Tony Bennett

Vinyl Cut Prose: The Crossroads, Laurel Canyon + Mulholland Drive

I riffed on Laurel Canyon and Mulholland Drive into a recording device for eight minutes and forty-nine seconds: this is the verbatim transcription.

Okay, fifteen minutes. I’m at Mulholland and Laurel Canyon.

So, I guess the most fitting thing for me to do at this point would be to talk about what Laurel Canyon and Mulholland mean to me. Fifteen minutes. So we’re on the clock, and we’re twenty seconds in: so, to me, Mulholland Laurel Canyon is just The … I wanna say The Fame. Oh. I wanna say The Fame, but it is fame: it’s American fame. What is The Fame to me? Mulholland and Laurel Canyon are Hollywood. It’s Cal – it’s … we’ll figure it out together.

Laurel Canyon is the Hippie Movement, right. It’s this, y’know, makeshift cobblestone ver– y’know, sloping – It’s… this canyon. It’s a canyon. It’s a cavity. It’s a cavity; but it’s the vein, and it’s the artery at the same time. Y’know like, you get traction. Y’know Laurel Canyon is the Hippies, is the Sixties, it’s the counterculture. It’s Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix, Jim Morrison. Umm, it’s an odd counterculture. It’s very calm and weathered. And then you’ve got Mulholland, which is fame to me.

Continue reading Vinyl Cut Prose: The Crossroads, Laurel Canyon + Mulholland Drive

re:take ep. 1: pneumatose

SC POP

I date many things… cities, sounds, dreams. These things happen. When I date sounds, it is a full-stop courtship: get to know their interests, their background, their dreams, with whom they engage, do they have siblings, where do they post up to get down – can they read. These things. Eventually, the dalliance fades and something worthwhile is made. Eventually, we mix a master, and reverberate rhythms of the most loyal low-fidelity.

All of this is to say, I mingle with sonic musings. I’m a made match for muses. What does a first date sound like? Like the first take. It’s slow on the uptake, but fairly deliberate. It finds a track it grooves with, and explores it from myriad angles, pitches, and plays. We talk about life, shared experiences, we find lyrical camaraderie and beat-driven commonality. We find freedom in the music. There’s liberation in improvisation. You take an understood foundation and say: “I know you, you know you – here’s how I hear you, here’s how you appear to my ears… Here’s how the finished product unravels into the unknown.”

It gets weird. It remains inspired. It leaves few scores unsettled. It’s somewhat manic. It’s experimental. It is not interested in how you move, more so in the guarantee that you move and what compels you to move at all. It, takes, its, time.

Continue reading re:take ep. 1: pneumatose