Monday, October 23, 2017

This Means Nothing To Me

Something resembling fall is flirting with us; where in these humid swampy bits, any days with temperatures in the mid 60-70s mean many pull out their sweaters (and in some cases down jackets), I'm just content to not be melting into a viscous pool of salt.

Still as lovely as it is, lately I only long for mountains and wide, pristine open spaces crisp with frost.  Preferably the kind next to towns with bustling night lives where you can enjoy a cocktail and feast on the dreamy eye candy.  But, that might be asking for too much.

April Stevens // Teach Me Tiger // 1959

Ultravox // Vienna // 1980-1981

Friday, October 20, 2017

High Heeled Moss

So many artists and music tracks I'd like to share with you but I'm in the middle of a maelstrom, moving house and living out of boxes.

Here's a little precious gouter to tide you over.  What do you think of the art direction?  I'm torn between wonderment and excited schadenfreude to something else, something uncomfortable.  A lot of comments have already been made comparing this to The Knife, but I suppose I've never separated Honey is Cool, The Knife or Fever Ray as separate entities.  For me, that would be akin to divorcing one period of an artist's repertoire from the others.  It's all one glorious journey.   That said, I do find myself drawn to one or the other, depending on my mood.

Fever Ray // To The Moon And Back // 2017

Concurrently, this gem is very relevant to me and I hum a few key lines over and over, Tourette's style.

Fever Ray // When I Grow Up // Fever Ray // 2009

When I grow up
I want to be a forester
Run through the moss on high heels
That's what I'll do
Throwing out a boomerang
Waiting for it to come back to me

When I grow up
I want to live near the sea
Crab claws and bottles of rum
that's what i'll have
Starting at a seashell
Waiting for it to embrace me

(Honorable mentions: here, here, here, here  ... amongst others)

Friday, September 29, 2017

In The Stars, Child

When ice cream for dinner and piracy are the only solutions. Repeat, repeat, repeat

Robert Smith // Pirate Ships // Disintegration (Wendy Waldman cover) // 2010 Deluxe Edition

Tuesday, September 26, 2017

Feel Better

Dearest void.  Two seasons have passed since I've ventured into these parts, though I've thought about making a pit stop several times. .

The past few months have seen me vacillating between intense periods of introverted seclusion, concocting the makings of a brand new life and setting into motion the pawns and stratagems of something utterly whole and different versus returning to the familiar strut and hunt, shaking out the solitary cobwebs and engaging in general mayhem.

Only to discover those quiet spaces I've created sustain me in ways I never allowed them to do previously.  As the luminous Kate Bush croons in this gorgeous live performance, "I've been out before. But this time it's much safer in."

As it turns out, breathing and finding comfort in one's own company and in the quiet spaces between yourself and your past holds its own treasured adventures.  The longings change; morphing into something less desperate and depraved.  And when you drink from that reservoir, the tiny fractured crevasses begin to heal.  Simple perhaps, but when you come from a chaotic wilderness, half beast, half woman - simplicity is a foreign language.

So... I guess what I'm trying to say, is that I feel better than I've felt in a long time.  Longer than I can remember... or maybe I've never been here before.  Sometimes, I'm frightened.  Frightened of losing the identity I've spent years carefully crafting, frightened of what stripping away that artifice will reveal.

No surprises then that this track has been on regular rotation.

Blue Shoes // Better // 1980 // Fervor Records

Saturday, March 11, 2017

Fractal Prisons

It's one of those uber meta Lame weekends.  Reading about Soviet Soviet's lame experience attempting to enter the US to perform at KEXP, SXSW and some other shows and their subsequent detainment, imprisonment and deportation just tops this really shitty lame cake.

I'm going through it in a super quantum way.  Which sounds probably way more dramatic than I intend but you all know, that's my special super hero power.

Soviet Soviet // Going Through // Endless // 2016

Pay no attention to me.  I'll just be sitting here stewing on how much I hate everyone and everything.

But do check out these guys.  They're the opposite of lame.

Friday, March 10, 2017

Wands Is Just Another Name

Even if it curses.  Even if it smarts.  Nothing is forever, Fay Ray taught me this.  Embrace your wickedness.  These guests, so sickly and vindictive.

Gold Zebra - Love, French, Better - 2014

Sunday, February 26, 2017

The Juiciest Juice

Remember the heady whirlwind month of July featuring Dreamboat?  Let's splash around in a brief recap.  In order of events:  July Part I, July Part II, July Part III, July Part IV, July Part V, July Part VI and the subsequent ridiculous backlash and backsliding into the train wreck Lost Boy that comprised August.  Culminating in spending the better part of Autumn trying to piece myself back together in true CTST dramatic fashion convinced I would wander the earth alone.  And probably be happier for it.  Anger, Wanderlust, Not Giving a Fuck.

All caught up?  Dreamboat, being of the Scorpion ilk, charms, cajoles, and confuses me into abject capitulation every single time.  He resurfaced in November, like some sort of sexy groundhog, pillaged the fields for his birthday and submerged himself once more.  Since then, quite randomly and rather humorously, he pops up like one of those Wack-a-mole games at shitty arcades with virtual words so tempting and beguiling.  Words, words, words.  My Achilles heel but so ephemerally flimsy.  Still... there are some people that have that knack for crawling inside to secrete their essences into your cells.  Sleeper clones, lying in wait to rekindle the bloom.

It's bloomed, this decadent viral herpetic romance.  Bamboozled yet again!  We spent ten glorious hours together, touching on all those sappy cliches I adore.  Picnic in the park, snarkily laughing at the half naked Yoga Man, resplendent in a man bun exhibiting undoubtedly psychedelic inspired dance moves to unheard music, and soaking up the sunshine with side-splittingly easy camaraderie.  All perfectly platonic, of course.  Twice bitten, I've learned my lesson.   Or so I thought.  Then come those kryptonian flowing champagne words.  Silvery tongued and so hypnotically rapturous, laden with charmingly awkward regretful expressions, languid deliciousness and promises there will be no more Peter Pan disappearances into the ether.

Can snake charmers ever truly sleep soundly? My own inner snake reincarnated and lies coiled, poised with panther tail twitching, ever alert and watchful.  In the months following his strangely familiar, frustratingly obvious repetitious oddities, I did what any self respecting autonomous individual should.  Created and dove into a life that I really love, finally accepting that something broken requires only acknowledgment, not repair.  Once clefted, the stones's job is finished.  It is now the microcosms purpose to wriggle and perform the dance.

Perhaps it is possible for two snakes to bewitch each other into submission briefly and then go their separate ways once the morning heat begins to singe delicate scales.  Meaning, we can rationalize just about anything we choose in order to satiate those other needs.  Returning to lick the acidic juice again and again.

Broadcast // Corporeal // Tender Buttons // 2005
Do that to me.  Do that to my anatomy.

(Try to catch the video version created by Wonder Mundle)

Cocteau Twins // Those Eyes, That Mouth // Love's Easy Tears // 1986
This is everything.

Still Corners // Don't Fall in Love // Don't Fall in Love/Wish 7" // 2011

Still Corners // Beginning to Blue // Strange Pleasures // 2013

Can't hold my breath for long
Baby blue... your eyes are deeper than the oceans go
Tell me love, is there hope?

Monday, February 20, 2017

Bacchus' Palace

Another sunset kisses the stars.  Seems like just last week, we said goodbye to The Chapman Family.  For awhile, I comforted myself with the saccharine affability of pseudo connections since Kingsley and I were linked on social media but that sunset happened too.  Now, it's time to say goodbye to Kingsley's most recent project, The Murder as they've just announced their second to last show. Remember them?

It's a grey day and I've recently said goodbye to a lot of other things in the last couple of weeks.  So, what's one more?

Their silhouettes, proud and aberrant.  All dancing and swapping saliva somewhere anyway.  

Friday, February 3, 2017


It's hard to believe a month has passed since I ventured into these parts.  The dailies have consumed me with all that it can entail plus the likes of adopting a new kitten, re-homing said kitten, accepting the trials of anxiety, and dealing with a nasty pothole that attempted to eat my car which, I wryly joked, was singing this delightful Ministry song.

Ministry // Revenge // With Sympathy // 1983

Also, the world has gone utterly bonkers and I no longer recognize my country.

Currently, my listening tastes are soooo wildly disparate (fitting the schizoid climate in which we find ourselves), I'm not sure how to post about them.  So without much fanfare, here are just a few.

Angel Olsen // Woman // My Woman // 2016
A popular choice, for sure, but digging deeper into her third album, besides the poptastic Shut Up and Kiss Me track, you'll find several gems though it's this moody 7 minute opus that is really doing it for me. Contemplative perfection

I dare you to understand
What makes me a woman

Broadcast // Ominous Cloud // Haha Sound // 2003
There has yet to be a moment that Trish Keenan's beautiful voice doesn't make better.  This track is so very fitting right now.

I've got to get away
From this town, don't want to face
The ominous clouds

Be myself and learn to face 
The ominous clouds

PJ Harvey // This is Love // Stories from the City, Stories from the Sea // 2000

Because, Polly Jean.

I can't believe that life's so complex
When I just want to sit here and watch you undress

Ohhhh... look at that!  There's a theme here after all, funny how that works. xo 

Sunday, January 1, 2017

Allegory of Winter

Does a day really make a difference, those 24 little hours?  Do people actually wake up and become that which they wish they were in the last twelve months at the start of a new year?  I suppose it gives people hope and inspiration or merely provides that strange comfort demarcating the threshold and passage of time can offer.   No matter.  Whatever gets you through the day, sweetheart.

I find it utterly intoxicating... not the booze, lights or glitter of a moment but that spark of recognition.  When you see art or hear music that illustrates the colors of your own dreams.. the sounds in your own head.  That to me is what I get up for, why I keep up the charade of every day life.  For that precious moment when you and the piece are one... at the risk of sounding trite, the moment when you know you are not alone.  

Someone else was haunted by that color, that image, that sound.  They laid awake at night drowning in their desire for expression; waited for its writhing birth into light and spirit.  Sometimes, I think, that's why people crave physical relationships.  It is their longing to have their Other highlight what scurries furtively around inside them, begging for an audience.  Craving to be seen.  That is pain. That is prison.  A treasure, a blessing and a curse. 

My paradox is uncomfortably banal.  Whilst craving others' company, I am almost immediately disappointed by it.  So this is where I shall stay, until Geppetto grants me my wish.  Suspended between these two realities in a body that increasingly feels less and less real.

Remedios Varo is a saint.  Her work is salvation. (click any image for larger slideshow)

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