listening to: Beirut – Gulag Orkestar okay, i’ll …

listening to: Beirut – Gulag Orkestar

okay, i’ll be honest. i seemed to be hooked from the very start, as the horn and trumpet start off the show, sounding almost like ennio morricone. the very relaxed sound of vast existential despair just made me sit up and take notice. then the keys come in, followed by a tabla-ish beat and the return of the mighty brass instruments. then it segues into 19 year old zach condon’s baritone wailing. did i just hit upon one of 2006’s best albums?

yes and no.

yes, because its a mighty album. an indie rock album without a single guitar note. its folk meets balkan (eastern european) gypsy music. its stunning. for most of the time, atleast.

no, because some of the marchy parts are well…ridiculous. why? because they remind me of ‘paki shaadi music’ (to paraphrase an idiot)? or because its reminiscent of crappy carnivals? should that be allowed to be detrimental to the album even?

there’s a nice variety of instruments on this album, from the aforementioned brass instruments to ukekeles, glockenspiels, mandolins, accordions and a few more. and then there’s condon’s voice. the deep baritone is almost used as a precursor to the music, and sometimes takes centre stage with a lovely flailing melody, such as in rhineland (heartland). the trills as he weaves his trumpet around is alarmingly intense aswell.

therein lies the fault, in my humble opinion. the mellow tracks seem to make a significant impression as stunning pieces of an idea (that being the introduction of folkish undertones to balkan music), while the carnivalesque tracks that remain true to the balkan heritage seem to come off as party pieces rather than something you can listen to sitting at home trying to read hemingway.

still, if only to hear the stunning opener…

He’s sitting on the park bench, his eyes dancing a…

He’s sitting on the park bench, his eyes dancing about as he watches people with alientation. The leaves flutter as they always do under the calm breeze, and the noises disappear under an intense wave of clarity. The chaos placates him, it caresses him when all else fails, when the worlds collide and shattered car windows drip with bloody acid. His fingers shiver ever so slightly in under the cold, but his nerves are decimated; for now.

She sees the bench and her legs relax, they know rest is near. Softly she sits, as others gaze. There’s a frozen lake out there, full of people who don’t want to skate, trying to avoid their houses or their schools or those they claim to love. There’s a shadow following each of them, a shadow that resembles them but distances itself from the ethos of whom it follows. She looks at him, sitting next to her, eyes vacuous yet placid. He seems to be watching a demogogue, arising people too frightened to think beyond what they listen to, too scared and institutionalized to wonder. There’s a siren in the distance, a police siren perhaps; reminds her of her dreams and the dystopian existence she sees in them. Too late, too fucked up she says under her breath, and glances over at him but he doesn’t seem to hear. There’s an air of false narcissism, but maybe its emanating from her.

She places her head on his lap, on the lap of this stranger, hoping that there will be no words uttered and no whispers meant. A subconscious decision, irrational yet meaningful; Nietszche would be proud. Her eyes see less, and she stares at the grass that threatens to insinuate.

His amazement is marginal, his empathy significant. Her head lies softly in his lap, her hair brushing his hands as he subtly pulls them from underneath her head. Her skins seems frosted, yet it glistens under the remnants of the sun. There is no more noise, just a drone. A quiet, unobtrusive drone, addressing his syncopated laments. The people around quietly descend into an abyss that opens in the middle of the lake. Everyone’s swallowed in, except him, and her.

The lake, still, looks unperturbed.

listening to: Eluvium – Talk Amongst The Trees i …

listening to: Eluvium – Talk Amongst The Trees

i think this is one of the most gorgeous albums ever. a lot of people say that electronic/ambient music isn’t really “music” because its not a bunch of chords over which some guy is ridiculously reminiscing, but how can something so unbearably beautiful and touching not be music?

yes, in ambient music there’s no place for ‘gimmicks’, which basically means a lot of bullshit can get through, but this, this album, THIS is why it exists. for some young artist like matthew cooper to weave his magic, weave his melancholy by intelligently dissecting simple guitar chords and notes to the extent that it is impossible to tell which instrument is being used to portray the melody. by leaving synth work in the background that just meanders pleasantly.

its like a overbearing (in a nice way), otherworldly mist that just settles quietly around you, blurring everything else out, so that you have nothing to think about, and nothing to distract you from its melancholy beauty. yes, you can’t listen to it while talking to someone on msn, yes you can’t listen to it while you’re jogging, but who the hell cares? why are our attention spans so glaringly limited? why do we need mundane chord changes and different vocalizations to feel like we’re being emotionally drawn in?

the 6th track is called “taken”, and its basically the same chord (or two) just running through so much distortion that it sounds like…well…not like a guitar. its 16 minutes long, and if you can stop yourself from anxiously waiting for some climax or some vocals, and if you can abstain from doing something for 16 minutes, you WILL be treated to one of the best music-related experiences ever.

or, if you’re going somewhere cold where there will be snow, listen to the album without interruption while you’re climbing the mountains (in your car i.e).

or, i don’t know. this, is simply stunning.

Rest in peace, Ferenc Puskas. one of the best foo…

Rest in peace, Ferenc Puskas.

one of the best football players ever, and probably the best left footed one.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ferenc_Pusk%C3%A1s

listening to: The Hold Steady – Boys And Girls In …

listening to: The Hold Steady – Boys And Girls In America

okay, i eat (usually) with my left hand. although i am somewhat ambidextrous (with leanings towards being a lefty – kinda), i do usually subconsciously use my left hand to drink/eat.

since its completely natural and NOT a conscious fucking decision, why does everyone feel necessary to tell me that eating with my left hand is going to land me in hell?

i mean god made me this way, its not like my parents decided i was going to be lefty while i was in my mom’s womb!

*shakes fist in agitation*

listening to: Coheed And Cambria – blah blah blah …

listening to: Coheed And Cambria – blah blah blah IV blah blah blah

Carpe Diem! Make your lives extraordinary!

anyway, have to watch donnie darko again, remember very little of it

and united 3-0 against portsmouth. playing some very VERY good fluid footie. very nice. dunno how true the rumours about fergie still being interested in owen hargreaves are, don’t see any significant reason to buy him unless the carrick transfer wants to be made redundant cause i don’t really see him turning out to be a creative attacking midfielder like scholes.

i need some good punk, not that sex pistols crap!

plus i need some good contemporary literature, my patience with classics has fucking run out.

listening to: Songs Ohia – Axxes And Ace so, hope…

listening to: Songs Ohia – Axxes And Ace

so, hopefully, a united win tonight! and that will be followed by dead poets society. heard tonnes about this movie, lets see if its worth it.

oh! jason molina! calm down and let the waves overwhelm, these words will not flow until the mind embellishes that which it holds so very sacred…