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Sometimes...the wrong way round just is

Posted by Cloudboy on February 19, 2006

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Jean Cocteau 1929

no soundtrack needed just listen

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Lisa Germano, Sunburned Hand of Man, Six Organs of Admittance

Live @ Seymours Family Club, Bristol Thurs 7th Dec I just sat there mesmerised whilst Lisa Germano single-handingly recreated old favourites and freshly minted songs through her keyboards, guitar and of course, those breathy vocals that have only improved with age. Small Heads, Reptile, some tracks off Liquid Pig, In the Land of the Fairies (a dream come true for me), Golden Cities, Into Oblivion and a few others from her latest album – In the Maybe World . Oh this was just bliss, eyes shut, soaking up the atmosphere. Absolutely brilliant and worth the wait, even if the experience was a little short lived, also had a quick chat with her while she signed my poster – the sad fanboy I am!!! Sunburned Hand were wow, or should I say WOW!!!, five guitarists (one of who was Hush Arbors’ Keith Wood and I suspect that Ben was in there too), 1 sax, a tree branch, an unholy thicket of electronic trinkets and assorted clatter, all on a mission to bend the contents of your skull. There was so mu

Autotistika, Kostis Kilymis, Dead Gum and Embarker

20th November Power Lunches , London Power Lunches had undergone some changes since I was here for Stereocilla last year. The side walls of the cellar space were now fitted out with full length mirrors on both sides, their multiple reflections milking a certain Fripp and Eno 'no pussyfooting' vibe in my head, full of Logan's run like distortions running the spaces proportions. Caught a distorted eyeful of myself masked up in the gloom and attempted to divine those bizarrements in my Autotistika slot, suffice to say, had a lot of fun in doing so, derailing into some diced n sliced techno agitations, finally squeezing in Anna's ergo toxin fragments before abrupt sign offs. Following on after me was Kostis Kilymis (label boss of organized music from thessaloniki )whose machines seemed full of chewed billiards, a pulsing soup of skipping envelopes, chattering teeth and weathered sweeps. Minimal architectures that rumbled through the blue hued darkness sup

oh lovely...

Went to The Books and Clogs at the Cube last night, a clever blend of classical sensibilities, a odd collection of sound sources and lots of (hilarious) humour but more on that a little later. Meanwhile wonder what's the chances of convincing my wife that a double bill of apocalyptic metal is romantic? They look so cool too :-(

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