no.001 : ragnar kjartansson - guð
never actually released as a piece of music, but rather the soundtrack to an audio/visual installation by the icelandic artist working on collaboration with a group of others. something i stumbled into as part of a wider exhibition at the mathildenhöhe in darmstadt at the very beginning of summer 2012. a pink room, lined with velvet curtains, a big band on the screen, tuxedos and evening dresses, beaming smiles on their faces, performing this refrain over and over and over and over again. a deluge of sadness in ever-building waves; a delicate poem describing with such close understanding exactly what it's like.
no.002 : songs:ohia - didn't it rain
one of many songs for the last day on earth. it would be an impossibly churlish act to even dare attempt to describe the bottomless depths of power, strength, fragility and desperate sadness within the work on the now-all-too-legendary jason molina, and this, for me, perhaps his most telling piece, should one be forced to extract a single entity from his overwhelming catalogue. every line is a blade to the heart and a flickering candle burning simple hope in the long dark. i am beside myself in tears within the first moments, ready to bathe in the fragile glow for all time.
no.003 : slowdive - machine gun
a soothing dream bathed in the perfect fuzzy-distortion of the sound of shoegaze operated by one of its finest group of purveyors. blue summer skies and a shimmering radiance falling across the surrey-hills, endless childhood days, a whistful dream of peace playing gently across the leaves dancing in the light on high canopies. a wonderful calm that seems to extend out into the horizon forever, trailing cloudveils changing colour in its wake.
no.004 : jackie-o mf - beautiful september [we are going there]
a spell i first fell under during the summer of 2005, hazy dreams of gentle walks across the north-downs, resting in dappled glades of shimmering sunlight. the memories of endless childhood days mixing in with the slow understanding of the steady passing of time. the quiet murmuring of a steadily approaching autumn, ready to steal away the heat and light of the long days, to paint the hillsides in deep-reds and golden-browns. a faint melancholic stirring of slow-nostaliga coming in.
no.005 : low - two-step
a band first introduced to me by fbcfabric during the long production to our album together. i remember being wrapped in blanket, cradling tea in his makeshift studio in newcastle and first hearing their desperately-sad melodies issuing from the monitors. it always sounds like a cold mid-western winter; frozen fields and snowdrifts, the melancholic dark of the winter, the warmth of the stove and fireplace. keeping warm together in the depths of the descent.
no.006 : Διαφανα Κρινα - Βάλτε Να Πιούμε
the true masters of the modern greek tragedy. i am in athens, in mοναστηράκι, taking lipton yellow label tea and smoking assos international at the foot of the parthenon. the heat of the city, the forthcoming onset of the long night. the endless noise, chaos and confusion of the ancient capital, and the slow, steady descent of the terrible sadness of knowing of how fleeting it all is. the dream collapsing with each new moments passing.
no.007 : yo la tengo - blue line swinger
when the service-revolver put to my head, then i choose this as my favourite song in the world, from my favourite album in the world. it is the spring of 2003 and i am sitting in my third-floor apartment on eailing broadway, opposite the town hall and next to the old cinema. the sound of emergency vehicles and taxis sounding out in the night as the music steadily builds to a seemingly-endless crescendo. and this absolutely perfect text, these timeless words of pure understanding. how more soothing words could never be spoken, how it is all one can hope and ever need to hear.
no.008 : espers - black is the color
to suffer death one thousand times. black is the color. to be alive, to seek love, to love, to be loved. this is exactly what it's like. to be apart from the one you love, to miss them with all your heart. to be broken-hearted, to be torn apart. to suffer the ills and woes, the myriad torments, the loss, the regret, the tragic undoing of all that was once a dream of a perfect whole. to fall away into despair only to gentle rekindle the bitter hope. this is exactly what it's like.
no.009 : bonnie 'prince' billy - death to everyone
finding meaning in a meaningless world. these short lives, filled with so much suffering. each soul with their own cross to carry, with their own burden to bare. how it is the blackest of comedies indeed. how absurd and strange the most futile path can appear. how we are at moments completely lost, completely broken, and in the next moment all that can be done is to laugh and marvel at the ridiculous pursuit of it all. a curious and perculiar life within a yet-more bizarre world. we are swept up in events beyond our control and so often reduced to motionless reflection.
no.010 : mount eerie - lost wisdom
images of loss within the frozen cold. i originally stumbled upon mount eerie via the very-splendid blog over at WFMU, procuring myself a digital copy of the 'seven new songs' collection and was of course a fan from the first moments. but truly, mount eerie makes me think of dug yuck and babelfishh before all others. communing with them in various venues, basements and backrooms across europe, talking long on the power of the music, of the darkness laying in wait at the foot of the distant mountain ranges. the soothing calm of the frozen still rising to an impossible screaming gale. there is something magical and dark in the wilderness, and how it eeks into our bones when we reach out to find it.
keep safe
jamesreindeer
mulheim-an-der-ruhr
deutschland
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