This image of being drawn & quartered, offered up as a melodramatic distillation of the past week's general tenor, was found from the Affordable Housing Institute's website. It is more disconcerting that this image is tied to affordable housing than it is to my work schedule.
Morton Subotnick, Silver Apples of the Moon live at Moogfest 2012
Ameret String Quartet, Morton Subotnick: And the Butterflies Begin to Sing
Alvin Lucier, Almost New York
Various Artists, Music for Merce Vol. 10
Zeena Parkins & Ikue Mori, Phantom Orchard
Saturday was a quiet, dozy blur.
Larry Coryell, Introducing the Eleventh House with Larry Coryell
Embryo, Father Son and Holy Ghosts
Milton Nacimento, Club de Esquina 1
Southern Culture on the Skids, Santo Swings
The Blasters, Fun on a Saturday Night
Little Charlie & the Nightcats, Nine Lives
Clarence "Gatemouth" Brown, Pressure Cooker
Curved Air, Air Conditioning and Phantasmagoria
Linda Perhacs, Parallelograms
Max Roach, Max Roach with the New Orchestra of Boston and the So What Brass Quintet
Eric Dolphy, Out to Lunch
Dorothy Ashby, Afro-Harping
Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds, Dig, Lazarus, Dig!!!
Camper Van Beethoven, "Northern California Girls" (via Billboard)
Patti Smith Group, Wave
Roxy Music, Stranded
Johnnie Taylor, Taylored in Silk
Eddie Floyd, Rare Stamps
The Fall, Touch Sensitive...Bootleg
Tindersticks, Waiting for the Moon
Paul K, A Wilderness of Mirrors: Motion Picture Soundtrack
It's been a week. Classes and night classes. I got a story cut form a magazine and then a message asking for my address for the check. I'll take it! Maybe I'll embark on a career of not getting published. There was an election and a riot - c'mon, city fathers and even more powerful city mothers of Oxford Towne, crush that kind of indignity under the heels of your fancy shoes - and a discussion of said riot in one of aforementioned classes.
Sweet old Camper Van Beethoven.
Drawn and quartered is probably a very Nick Cave way to feel. It's not the canon-correct answer, but Dig!!! Lazarus, Dig!!! might be my actual, functional favorite Nick Cave album. Like there are the ones you are required to adore like Tender Prey and Murder Ballads and Your Funeral, My Trial and all, but this one is rock solid with me. I'd like Adult Music Club to work up "Dig, Lazarus, Dig"and play it at some congenial gathering in the park. "Poor Larry", I'll croon in an aside to congenial festivalgoers. I love everything about this song: the stunted funk of it, the beat poetry filtered through the cheesecloth of a bygone personal danger, the low-lamp showbiz of the video. Actually, I just want to imagine for a minute that I am Nick Cave cool. I have the mustache. And the dance moves. I can dream.