Pink Floyd - Animated

 Pink Floyd - Speak to Me/Breathe/On the Run - Simone Massi

 

 Pink Floyd - Time - Salvador Dali/Walt Disney

 

 

 Pink Floyd - The Great Gig In The Sky - Bruno Mazzilli

 

 Pink Floyd - Money - Kate Isobel Scott

 

 Pink Floyd - Us and Them/Any Colour You Like - Hueman Instrumentality

 

 Pink Floyd - Brain Damage/Eclipse - Lauren Edmonds

 

 Pink Floyd - One of These Days - Ian Emes

 

 Pink Floyd - The Narrow Way - Kunio Kato

 

 Pink Floyd - Welcome To The Machine - Gerald Scarfe

 

 Pink Floyd - Shine On You Crazy Diamond Pt. 4 - Seoro Oh

 

 Pink Floyd - Brain Damage - Nastassja Nikitina

 

 Pink Floyd - Eclipse - Yosh

 

In 1971 the English illustrator Gerald Scarfe found himself in LA creating an animated film for the BBC. He had spent the previous decade producing editorial cartoons and caricatures for British publications like Punch, the Daily Mail and The Sunday Times – and was now taking his satirical eye to the States. It was an era of drugs and cynicism, and Scarfe channelled these elements into his work. The resulting animation was Long Drawn-Out Trip, a warped visual stream of consciousness that reflected the illustrator’s take on American culture. It was trippy and hallucinogenic, mixing together everything from John Wayne and Micky Mouse to commercials and Playboy. Scarfe’s take on American society was relentlessly engaging, and it’s unique style seemed to strike a chord with viewers.
The following year it was seen by the members of Pink Floyd, and they loved it. They were eager to work with someone on visuals, and so they asked the illustrator if he might be interested. Scarfe – who admitted he was originally “no means a fan” of the band – went to see them perform The Dark Side of the Moon at Finsbury Park. When he saw their performance, his attitude completely changed. He loved the theatricality of their live act and agreed to see if they could find some projects to work on together.
After collaborating on tour programs, stage animations and a music video, Scarfe and the band finally landed on The Wall. Devised by Roger Waters, it was to be a hugely inventive album. Waters had already written three concept albums in the form of the group’s previous LPs – The Dark Side of the Moon (1973), Wish You Were Here (1975) and Animals (1977) – but this was to be his most personal and revealing album to date. It featured songs about isolation and abandonment and was an exploration of darkness and humanity. Scarfe was the perfect person to visualise these themes, and Waters wanted him involved from the very beginning.
“In the early days, Roger explained the whole of the music and lyrics of The Wall to me,” Scarfe wrote in his 2011 book. “Over the following weeks he retraced his steps, telling me which part of The Wall echoed his own life – his father’s death, his girlfriend’s infidelity etc., which was fantasy and what was fact. Gradually I built up a picture of what I felt I could contribute.”
Telling the journey of a character called Pink, Scarfe visualised his life as a twisted mix of elegance and horror. At the core of the story was the titular wall: a defensive barrier that Pink constructed to close himself off from a cruel world. Through Water's songs, we get to learn about the death of Pink’s father during World War II; we learn how his mother domineered him; how his school bullied him; the government controlled him; and how his wife betrayed him. Scarfe brought all these elements to life with an ink-spattered flick of the wrist. This grotesque cast of characters would go on to become iconic figures in the landscape of pop culture.
The Wall was released as a double album in 1979, but Waters had already envisioned it to be more than just an LP. From 1980–81, the band toured with a hugely ambitious live show. During the course of their performances, a massive thirty-five-foot wall of white cardboard bricks was constructed on stage and onto this was projected animations by Scarfe. The band also worked with the architect Mark Fisher and the mechanical engineer Jonathan Park to turn Scarfe’s original illustrations into massive inflatable puppets that represented characters from the story. These included the "Mother", the "Ex-wife" and the "Schoolmaster". Even today, The Wall Tour remains one of the most ambitious and complex theatrical events ever attempted.
One person whose attention had been caught by the show was the director Alan Parker: “It probably marked the high point of rock-and-roll theatre” he said, “I couldn’t imagine anything ever getting any bigger.” Parker had been a Pink Floyd fan since before The Wall, but the themes of this album really spoke to him. He approached EMI and asked if he could adapt it into a live-action film. Waters had himself already had the intention of turning the album into a film, and – when he heard that Parker was interested in an adaptation – he asked the director if he would consider taking the role. The process of getting it to screen was a challenge for everyone involved. Parker, Waters and Scarfe repeatedly clashed during its production, and Parker later described the ordeal as: “one of the most miserable experiences of his creative life.”
Despite the difficulties, The Wall (1982) was regarded by many critics as a success and it was praised for its unique and often horrifying depiction of self-destruction. As the film’s designer and animator, Scarfe’s distinctive illustrations came to life on screen, and these brought his work to a much wider audience. Throughout the film, Scarfe drew and animated a number of key animated sequences that featured disturbing and surreal images of violence, sex and gore. Over time the film established cult status and, alongside the album and tour, The Wall is now regarded as one of the most iconic and inventive projects in the history of rock.
Sadly, while Scarfe and Waters were collaborating on The Wall, relationships within the band were at an all-time low. The illustrator had worked with the group for six years and, during that time, he had been caught in the middle of one of rock's most bitter break-ups. The Wall would be Water’s penultimate album with the group, and many would argue that it was the band’s last great release
Despite the difficulties and challenges during Scarfe’s collaboration, what they created together was one of the most iconic and imaginative combinations of visuals and music ever undertaken. Within the history of music, it remains to be a groundbreaking work. The same can certainly be said too about its achievements within the history of illustration.  From: https://illustrationchronicles.com/how-gerald-scarfe-and-pink-floyd-built-the-wall

 

 

Żywiołak - Dens Makabreska

Interview with Robert Jaworski from the band Żywiołak

DP: On your website we read that: Żywiołak's music is the result of such musical styles as: folk, punk, rock metal, acoustic trans-techno and drum'n'bass. It also uses elements of music: dub, chillout and ambient, and is combined with the sounds of reconstructed old instruments, "inventions" of newer technology, and archaic and modern vocal techniques. I must admit that after reading this I was a bit scared and didn't know what to expect when going to your concert. Don't you think that this approach to what you do may discourage rather than interest many potential listeners?

Robert Jaworski: Excuse me? But what were you terrified of? So many trends at once? We direct this music to people who are interested not only in the impact shock (I call it the pulse). If such an approach scares away a group of people, I think that they will definitely not be the potential recipients of our music. Yes, our aim at our creation is rhythmic, but the second element is the text layer and ethnic sounds.

Dark Planet: Coming back to the previous question for a moment - could you tell the readers what instruments you use?

Robert Jaworski: Old ones: hurdy-gurdy, fiddle, flute, lute, baraban, djembe... Popular ones: viola, bass guitar, cymbals and part of a drum set, and all kinds of drums.

DP: Why do you focus on folk demonology in your work?

Robert Jaworski: Because we don't know a band in Poland yet that would take this topic seriously.

DP: Don't you think that there are already many bands (in various musical genres) that draw too much from this topic?

Robert Jaworski: From folk demonology? I don't know a single one.

DP: But aren't you afraid that the subject matter may turn out to be too trite?

Robert Jaworski: There is no official topic on this topic. This is knowledge for those interested and a bit of insight into the darkness of history and folklore.

DP: Another very interesting thing is how the band Żywiołak was created, considering that the musicians who composed it previously played / still play such different music?

Robert Jaworski: Just because they play differently doesn't mean they wouldn't want to play similar. Robert Wasilewski played in a folk band into which he tried to incorporate metal elements, but he failed in the long run. I did in mine. I was exposed to rock-metal from the previous band. Maciek Labudzki also plays rock covers in his Mistik Mahżonga. The girls had no experience with such aesthetics - at all. They needed to be educated a bit. However, somewhere there our paths crossed and Żywiołak was created.

DP: In April this year, you received the most prestigious award - the Grand Prix of the President of the Polish Radio for the 9th Folk Music Festival "New Tradition". What do you think made you win?

Robert Jaworski: Certainly the freshness of the trend. The jury had slight reservations about the workmanship, but decided not to take it very literally. Besides, the jury's verdict emphasized our spontaneity as our greatest advantage.

DP: Another question about your success is why you don't hear much about the band in the Polish media?

Robert Jaworski: This question is probably not for us. The media - not necessarily the Polish ones, are always more focused on commercial projects. We have created a quite flashy project, but still a niche one.

DP: Przemysław Trubalski from the website Wiadomości24 refers to the words of Zbigniew Hołdys, spoken after your concert in Warsaw's Pracovnia: "I saw them for the first time in my life, but I will do my best to tell people who decide about the fate of such artists that it is worth helping Żywiołak, that it's worth paying attention to this band. If someone doesn't help this band today, they will watch how the band makes its career. These are unstoppable procedures. The question is, has there actually been anyone who wants to help you open the door to a great career?

Robert Jaworski: I think that Hołdys' statement does not suggest that someone will be found, but rather that someone should be interested in us. I think this is a fundamental difference. I must admit that it would be nice if there were people in Poland professionally involved in the promotion of such non-commercial projects.

DP: Does it bother you that your work is compared to both the achievements of "troLi" and "Hedningarna"?

Robert Jaworski: The fact that our work is comparable to their troLe certainly cannot be questioned - after all, we play pieces of their troLe - and I was the main originator of the idea. As for Hedningarne…

Translated from: https://www.darkplanet.pl/Wywiad-z-Robertem-Jaworskim-z-zespolu-Zywiolak-2062.html

The Velvet Underground - Venus in Furs

“She kissed me again with her murderous lips.” Thus runs a typical sentence from the torrid 1870 novella Venus in Furs by Leopold von Sacher-Masoch (after whom the word “masochism” was later coined). It’s the lurid story of a man named Severin and his desire to be enslaved by a beautiful woman, Wanda von Dunajew; the couple become embroiled in explicit (for the time) episodes of what is now known as BDSM. The story became notorious and was frequently banned.
Fast-forward to New York in the mid-1960s, where Lou Reed and John Cale were putting together a band, which would become The Velvet Underground. They recorded demo tapes in a basement in Ludlow Street; among the songs was “Venus in Furs”, written by Reed and inspired by what he called Masoch’s “trashy novel”. Sung by Cale with abundant echo and a jangly folky guitar, it sounds almost like a medieval madrigal.
At that time, The Velvet Underground were still a work in progress with folky leanings and music that often reflected Reed’s fondness for Hank Williams. But viola-player Cale had worked with avant-garde composers such as La Monte Young and had been involved in the experimental Fluxus movement. He was drawn to drone music. Drummer Maureen Tucker was recruited, having apparently trained by hitting telephone directories while playing along to Bo Diddley records. Her style was elemental and primitive. Reed came up with his own unique guitar tuning, which he called “ostrich”, in which each string is tuned to the same note.  
The version of “Venus in Furs”that ended up on the band’s groundbreaking debut album, The Velvet Underground & Nico (1967), utterly different from the earlier demo, reflects this new approach: it is a chilling, thrilling, sexually charged piece of drone-rock, Cale’s viola crackling like a whip, Tucker’s bass drum pounding, tambourine shaking, Sterling Morrison’s bass weaving a repeated pattern, Reed’s lyrics transporting the story to a modern urban milieu with “shiny shiny boots of leather” and “streetlight fancies” (it’s Reed singing this time).
The album sold badly; later, Brian Eno quipped that everyone who bought a copy went on to form a band. This wasn’t quite true, but many bands in the following decade’s punk years owed a massive debt to The Velvet Underground: the leather jackets, the musical minimalism, the drugs and sex, while the bondage of “Venus in Furs” became a key part of the punk look. Their association with Andy Warhol added to their arty allure. Punk and new wave bands channelled the power and the otherness of acts such as Iggy and the Stooges and The Velvet Underground.
Among those bands were Siouxsie and the Banshees, whose bass player, Steven Bailey, renamed himself Steven Severin after the character in “Venus in Furs”. They are the band who most faithfully covered the song in live versions, capturing its compelling drone, often without drums. Cale himself, who co-produced the band’s 1995 album The Rapture, toured on the same bill as a Banshees offshoot, The Creatures, in 1998, on which they would join forces for “Venus in Furs” with Cale on viola. Cale himself has continued to play it many times, with a typically saturnine reading, opening his 2007 live album Circus Live.
It formed an occasional part of Lou Reed’s stage repertoire, perhaps most memorably on his live Animal Serenade album (2004); deploying his by now customary casual conversational delivery, Reed seems to be taking the song less seriously than his band, notably cellist Jane Scarpantoni, who plays an electrifying solo that echoes Cale’s scrapings on the original. And The Velvet Underground featured it on their 1993 reunion album, Live MCMXCIII, with Reed again showing a Dylanesque disdain for his original phrasing; Cale’s viola saves it. Other notable versions have come from Beck, featuring an impressive drone created by a sitar, and a guitar played with a violin bow, though Beck’s vocals lack the required stentorian grandeur and the beat plods without being insistent. DeVotchKa’s 2006 version doubles up on the beat, which rather loses the point of the thing, though there’s impressive violin action.
A memorable solo performance, captured on video at McCabe’s guitar shop in Santa Monica in 2016, came from Paz Lenchantin, bassist and violinist with The Pixies since 2014: she samples herself on bass and violin, setting up loops and layers of sound, singing over the top while whipping her violin bow.
Reed’s dark dirge has become a signifier of edginess, like Masoch’s story a gateway into a world of forbidden pain and pleasure. Films and TV adverts have used this quality to add a dark lustre, most memorably in a TV advert in the UK for Dunlop tyres: directed by Tony Kaye, the wild one-minute film caused a stir with its bizarre imagery (including a grand piano falling from a bridge), leading to the tagline: “Tested for the unexpected”.  From: https://ig.ft.com/life-of-a-song/venus-in-furs.html

Odetta Hartman - Dr. No

Following her debut mini-LP 222 and 2018’s Old Rockhounds Never Die (which saw her touring her unique performance style — part Jack White rock ’n’ roll folk blues, part electronic experimentations — with the likes of Let’s Eat Grandma, Cosmo Sheldrake and Skullcrusher), Odetta Hartman returns with her strongest set of songs to date. Swansongs is another fever dream of a record that includes the experimental pop of Goldilocks, the dramatic string lead single Dr. No and her radical re-working of the traditional Motherless Child, first made famous by her namesake Odetta. Equally inspired by AG Cook’s Apple and New Orleans trad jazz, the musical mixology of these songs cycle spans various genres of folk, Americana, pop, punk, soul, ambient and spiritual. Lyrically, it tenders the tension of two truths in opposition, through its inquisition of the interplay between fear and desire. Dichotomy is at the heart of this deep exploration into shadow work, mythological musings, healing frequencies, eclectic expressions, and the art of sculpted sound.
Constrained by the unique circumstances of modern isolation, Odetta and her co-producers — Alex Friedman and Wyatt Bertz — found their approach mitigated by the digital interface of remote collaboration. Synthesizers worked overtime to translate plunky banjos into lush wooden textures and shape white noise transitions into ASMR delights. They cast the widest nets in spite of life’s limitations and diligently discovered unexpected inside jokes. Versions upon versions ended up on the cutting-room floor until the songs resembled quilted sound collages woven by meticulous hands. Together they sharpened their tools and created a cathartic snapshot to capture the lightning of the historic moment. Swansongs is a dynamic and powerful reflection of love and ambition, hopeful, energetic and at times chaotic but always captivating.
The single Goldilocks arrived alongside a video directed by Bao Ngo. “This Grimes-inspired track first originated as a sassy banjo ditty, written backstage in-between sets in San Francisco,” Hartman says. “Its next phase jumped into an early 2000s rock vibe (a la The White Stripes) with the help of bandmates Lucy Arnell and Wyatt Bertz while on tour with Lola Kirke. In its final combined iteration — saturated with lyrical references to fairy tales & my favorite musical, Gypsy — it became a bombastic dance bop, a tongue-in-cheek pep talk, a vaudeville striptease, a whip cracking manifesto.” Of the video, Odetta continues: “Inspired by the Wizard of Oz technicolor transition, the music video for Goldilocks opens in the same black-and-white locale of Dr. No, but now the developing Swansongs world blossoms from Catskills gothic to Vaudeville gimmick. The lyrics to the femme power anthem directly reference Gypsy (‘Let me entertain you, let me make smile, I can do a few tricks, some old and then some new tricks I’m very versatile, and if you’re real good, I’ll make you feel good, I want your spirits to fly’), so we wanted to bring some old-school stage silliness into the visual accompaniment.”  From: https://tinnitist.com/2024/03/22/albums-of-the-week-odetta-hartman-swansongs/

The Jimi Hendrix Experience - The Burning Of The Midnight Lamp

The morning is dead, and the day is too
There's nothing left here to lead me but the velvet moon
All my loneliness I have felt today
It's a little more than enough to make a man throw himself away

And I continue to burn the midnight lamp alone

Now the smiling portrait of you is still hanging on my frowning wall
It really doesn't, it really doesn't bother me too much at all
It's just the ever-falling dust that makes it so hard for me to see
That forgotten earring laying on the floor facing coldly toward the door

And I continue to burn the midnight lamp all alone

So here I sit to face that same old fireplace
Getting ready for the same old explosion going through my mind
And soon enough, the time will tell
About the surface in the wishing well
And someone who will buy and sell for me
Someone who will toll my bell

And I continue to burn the same old lamp alone

Recorded in May, 1967, this melancholy blues song appears on Electric Ladyland (1968) and was first released as a U.K. single. Jimi Hendrix uses the wah-wah effect on his guitar for the first time and also overdubs some harpsichord embellishments. This song is about the traveling that Jimi did. Ironically, Jimi finished the song on a plane journey from Los Angeles to New York. The R&B group Sweet Inspirations provides vocal backing.
Hendrix describing the song in his own words: There are some very personal things in there. But I think everyone can understand the feeling when you’re traveling that no matter what your address there is no place you can call home. The feeling of a man in a little old house in the middle of a desert where he is burning the midnight lamp … you don’t mean for things to be personal all the time, but it is.
Hendrix: “That’s really a song I’m proud of. Some people say this is the worst track we have ever done. I think it is the best. Even if the technique is not great, even if the sound is not clear and even if the lyrics can’t be properly heard, this is a song that you often listen to and come back to. I don’t play neither piano nor harpsichord, but I had managed to put together all these different sounds. It was the starting point.”

From: https://genius.com/The-jimi-hendrix-experience-burning-of-the-midnight-lamp-lyrics

The video is a rare clip of a playback performance of 'The Burning Of The Midnight Lamp' on the French TV programme "Un portrait de Marie Laforêt" broadcast on 21st October 1967.
Interestingly, the spread from a French TV guide that detailed the evening's viewing for the 21st Oct 1967 stated the show was a special on French singer Marie Laforêt and would feature both The Jimi Hendrix Experience and the Small Faces (my kind of line-up!), but the text in the corner of the programme read: "At print time the people in charge for this program still don't know if the recorded sequences featuring Jimi Hendrix and British band the Small Faces will be part of the show. Thus we announce them under all reservations."
Written by Hendrix and produced by band manager Chas Chandler, 'The Burning Of The Midnight Lamp' featured R&B group Sweet Inspirations on backing vocals. The song was released in August 1967 as the group's fourth single in the U.K. and later included on the 1968 British edition of their compilation, Smash Hits. In the U.S., it first appeared as the B-side of "All Along the Watchtower". The song was added to both US and UK editions of Electric Ladyland (1968).
Hendrix wrote the lyrics on a flight from New York to Los Angeles in 1967. They express the confusion he felt at the time. Writing for music website AllMusic, Matthew Greenwald proposed that the song is "one of Jimi Hendrix's more interesting records of his early career", praising the "wildly imaginative, psychedelic lyric" and the "striking" musical performance.  From: https://www.facebook.com/watch/?v=669034634009267

Molly Tuttle & Golden Highway - Castilleja

In the middle of her ongoing tour, we caught up with Molly Tuttle and the members of Golden Highway to celebrate her selection as July’s Artist of the Month and to go behind the scenes of making City of Gold. Luckily, it’s easy to make music with friends, and the entire group goes way back. Tuttle says Bronwyn Keith-Hynes (fiddle), Dominick Leslie (mandolin), Shelby Means (bass), and Kyle Tuttle (banjo), have been a part of her musical life for years. “I’ve known everyone in the band since I was in my late teens, early twenties,” Tuttle explains via video call. Tuttle and Keith-Hynes attended classes and bluegrass jams together at Berklee College of Music. She met Kyle Tuttle (no relation) at around the age of 17 at an IBMA jam, and met Means while she was in Boston with the all-women string band Della Mae. Tuttle says she and Leslie met as kids, when they would both play the same bluegrass festivals. “When Molly told me what she was planning, and asked me to join the band and told me who else was going to be in it, I was thinking, ‘I’m already friends with all these people. This is gonna be really cool!’” Means said during our group interview.
When it came time to record City of Gold, the group worked with modern roots music icon Ketch Secor of Old Crow Medicine Show on much of the writing. Tuttle says there’s a definite Old Crow influence on the tracklist, which makes sense given “Down Home Dispensary” is a tune on the record originally written for the group best known for hits like “Wagon Wheel.” Tuttle said she initially worried the song was “too Old Crow” for Golden Highway, but is glad it ended up on the record. She and Secor got “into a good groove,” as she puts it, and churned out the tunes for City of Gold in about six months, often while driving in the car or passing around instruments during jam sessions. At least one track, though, was extremely collaborative. Tuttle, Means, Secor and Melody Walker (formerly of Front Country) all had a hand in finishing the tune. Jerry Douglas, the iconic resonator guitar player who’s worked with almost every name in the bluegrass industry, produced the album. Tuttle said that whereas she had only a few studio days booked for her previous album, Crooked Tree, the group had nearly two weeks of studio time to work with Douglas this time around. When asked what it was like working with the legend, every member of Golden Highway said they’d had a great experience. “Working with someone who’s a hero, there’s a lot of baggage that comes along with that,” Kyle Tuttle said. “But he’s the kindest dude. He supported us in a really cool way. It wasn’t hard or intimidating or anything like that. I thought it was easy and fun. Every now and then he’d play on a track with us.” Whether it was encouraging Golden Highway to take breaks or telling funny jokes, the group agreed that Douglas made sure everyone was comfortable and having a good time. Keith-Hynes said Douglas told the band that NASCAR drivers walk slowly to their cars to slow down their nervous systems, encouraging the musicians to do the same on walks between takes.
“Jerry has been a huge musical hero to all of us,” Leslie said. “Getting to spend all that time in the studio was the thrill of a lifetime. We all knew we were in really good hands with him musically going in, but what I didn’t realize was how good of a hang Jerry is. He was filling up any moment of dead air with a great story to break the ice.” On tour, the band’s camaraderie is just as apparent as it is in the studio, or as it was in the group’s music video for “Next Rodeo.” After Tuttle catches her no-good, fictitious cowboy boyfriend cheating, the band collectively decides to kidnap him and give him what for — although, of course, all in good fun. They say they haven’t (yet) had to kidnap anybody on tour, but that doesn’t mean the on-the-road lifestyle isn’t taxing. Kyle Tuttle said he missed a connecting flight the night before the album release show and was up all night driving to make it in time. “I was checking into the hotel and the sun was already up,” Kyle Tuttle said. “There was orange sky and some palm trees. I thought, ‘Damn it’s pretty. I sure wish I was in bed right now.’” While it’s a good time to be in Golden Highway, it’s also just a great time to be in bluegrass, the group says. All agreed that bluegrass is having a moment, and were happy to report multiple sold-out festivals with lineups that include country, folk, bluegrass, blues, and other roots artists. Means said it’s incredible to see bluegrass acts opening for bigger country artists, because it means the genre is a real selling point.
“I wonder if it’s a backlash to how crazy everything is with technology,” Keith-Hynes thinks aloud. “People want something real. Nothing is more real than people playing acoustic music on acoustic instruments.” Tuttle said the internet has also really leveled the playing field, making more music accessible to all kinds of fans. Golden Highway has had its own viral moments on TikTok, the short-form video social media app. Earlier this year Tuttle posted a 2022 Halloween clip that has now hit nearly one million views; inspired by a track on the new album, “Alice in the Bluegrass,” the band members are each dressed as a character from Alice in Wonderland, with Tuttle starring as the Queen of Hearts. “It took people by surprise to see this bluegrass band playing Jefferson Airplane in full Alice in Wonderland dress,” Tuttle said.  From: https://thebluegrasssituation.com/read/its-a-great-time-to-be-on-the-golden-highway/

Marilyn Manson - Dope Hat

Marilyn Manson music videos

Get Your Gunn
The music video, directed by Rod Chong, features Manson performing in a damp "attic-like" scene, intertwined by footage of band members and two feisty teenage girls. It did not receive much video play.

Lunchbox
The "Lunchbox" video, directed by Richard Kern, features a boy played by six year old Robert Pierce, whose vocals were also used in the song, being bullied by two older students. The boy goes home, fed up with the way he is treated, and shaves his head and prepares for any future retaliation against the bullies with his metal lunchbox. The boy later goes to the rollerskating rink where Marilyn Manson is performing. The boy gives Manson his lunchbox, which Manson lights on fire and parades around. The video ends with the boy staring into the burning lunchbox. It is one of the few music videos with Manson performing without wearing makeup.

Dope Hat
The "Dope Hat" music video, directed by Tom Stern, features the band riding a boat through a psychedelic tunnel directly inspired by the 1971 film Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory, which happens to be one of Manson's favorite films. In the video, the band members perform with many children and people resembling the "Oompa-Loompas" from Willy Wonka aboard the boat.

Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)
The video for "Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)" was filmed in a partially burned down church in about two days, most of which was spent trying to obtain footage of Manson riding the pig (as seen in the video). This video helped launch Marilyn Manson and director Dean Karr's careers into the spotlight.

The Beautiful People
Directed by Floria Sigismondi, the video for "The Beautiful People" has been described as "the creepiest of creepy videos". Filmed in the abandoned Gooderham and Worts distillery in Toronto, Canada, the clip depicts the band performing the song in a classroom-like setting adorned with medical prostheses and laboratory equipment. Intercut with performance footage are scenes of Manson on stilts, wearing a long gown-like costume, aviator goggles, and prosthetic makeup, making him appear bald and grotesquely tall. After being placed in this costume by similarly-attired attendants, he appears at a window to a cheering crowd in a scene reminiscent of a fascist rally, and later stands in the center of a circle while people march around him performing the Hitler salute. Other fast-cut scenes include extreme closeups of crawling earthworms; mannequin heads and hands; the boots of people marching; shots of the individual band members in bizarre costumes; and Manson in back and neck braces and a dental device that retracts the flesh of his mouth with hooks, exposing metallic teeth.

From: https://manson.wiki/Marilyn_Manson_music_videos#Dope_Hat

The Seldom Scene - Wait A Minute

The scene was New York University, adjacent to Greenwich Village’s camp and colorful Washington Square. The time was May 1976. Bluegrass promoter Doug Tuchman bustled about the auditorium coordinating sound checks, lighting, ticket sales, food and beverages backstage for the band–all the mountains of trivia essential to a successful production. As the doors opened, a sellout crowd consumed the front rows of seats like locusts, and quickly spread throughout the 750 seat hall. This was not Washington, D.C., the Bluegrass Capitol of the world. This was the Big Apple, and the eager, mostly student crowd awaited the arrival of a group of men some 15 or 20 years their senior who are quickly becoming legends in their own time. Individually, and as a band, The Seldom Scene have arrived.
Actually, they’ve all been around for years. Tom Gray (bass) and Mike Auldridge (dobro) played together in the mid 1950’s while still in high school. John Duffey (mandolin) and Tom shared nearly four years with the early Country Gentlemen. John Starling (guitar) and Ben Eldridge (banjo) attended the University of Virginia together, and as basement pickers were frequently to be seen in a Country Gentlemen audience. Ben tells of the time Tom Gray wore the wrong color shirt to the Shamrock and called his wife, Sally, to bring the right one by. He then asked Ben to stand outside on M Street and wait for the shirt, which he did. Tom gives out an embarrassed chuckle and doesn’t remember. Tom tells of the time Mike dropped out of their high school bluegrass band–he was playing guitar and banjo–because his girl friend (Elise, now his wife of ten years) was coming back from vacation and he didn’t feel he should spend so much time picking. Mike and Ben tell of going to a party at Tom Morgan’s house after a Country Gentlemen performance and feeling bashful about talking to the already legendary John Duffey. John describes the terrifying flight with his brother in a small airplane which led to his decision that flying is for the birds, and ultimately influenced his decision to leave The Country Gentlemen, who had just booked a tour of Japan.
The remembrances go on and on. But the memories only provide color and context for this phenomenon which exists in the today and the tomorrow of bluegrass music. Talent is something which is not constant. As a matter of fact, the product of real talent will never be static. Bill Monroe was innovating when he wrote “Molly and Tenbrooks.” The Seldom Scene do the tune only as part of a marvelous ten minute “Key of B Medley,” the idea for which popped up when the irrepressible Ricky Skaggs, sitting in at the Red Fox Inn, deviated from his intended verse on “Will The Circle Be Unbroken,” and everyone else in the band threw in verses from other songs.
But we digress. In the ’60’s, John Duffey drew folk songs such as “Darling Corey” and Bob Dylan’s “Baby Blue” into the bluegrass regime. Now, with The Seldom Scene, the innovation continues. Duffey and Starling between them are busily bringing fresh arrangements to old songs, and more importantly, are introducing a steady stream of new material to an evermore discerning audience. Had The Seldom Scene presented that knowledgeable New York University crowd with a rehash of Bill Monroe and Flatt and Scruggs, they would have met with some whoops and applause, but hardly the delirious acceptance with which those fans virtually inhaled their music, There appears to be a fine line here. The fans do not particularly respond to the electric “newgrass” sound, so the combination seems to involve acoustic creativity. And this is exactly the area in which The Seldom Scene is leaving most of the others way behind. Their next album (to be released in mid-summer) could easily become the bluegrass album of the year, and the strongest tune on it was written by Rodney Crowell (guitarist and singer with Emmylou Harris, herself a close Seldom Scene friend). “California Earthquake” tells of a huge tremor in the late 1800’s, and The Seldom Scene rendition is done with sensitivity and dynamics such as can send shivers up your spine.
Choice of material, though, however crucial to a band’s success, is largely a matter of “what you like”. In the case of The Seldom Scene, something else almost overshadows the tunes. Oh, those voices! John Starling, John Duffey, and Mike Auldridge constitute what is probably the tightest, most melodious trio in bluegrass: Duffey, with his incredible range and power, yet the sensitivity to blend appropriately on the soft, “relevant” songs. John Starling, whose fine voice can also be heard with Linda Ronstadt and Emmylou Harris; and Mike, whose resonant baritone is true and strong, and who is particularly skillful at blending with the other voices.
It would be a serious omission at this point not to include the vocal contributions of bassist Tom Gray, who knows every song (and almost every musician) around, and whose baritone and bass parts are above reproach. Tom is also possibly the best bassist in bluegrass. His playing is strong and has an edge to it, and he plays solos most bassists wouldn’t even attempt. If you think about it, each of The Seldom Scene is at or near the top on his instrument. John Duffey, not a technician a la Jimmy Gaudreau, Bobby Osborne, or Buck White, nonetheless “owns the neck” of his mandolin, innovates continuously, and never plays the same break twice. Many an aspiring banjo picker (not to mention some of the pros) can be found slowing his record player down to 16 rpm in an attempt to decipher an original Ben Eldridge lick. Ben is known among fans and musicians as Mr. Taste. Mike Auldridge, with two solo albums, an instruction book, and dozens of fairly big time session shots under his belt, is making his third album in Nashville for Flying Fish Records, Session musicians include Vassar Clements (again), Lloyd Green (Mr. Pedal Steel), and Bobby Thompson.
It is surprising that the music of The Seldom Scene is so little known in California, although that may soon change. They travel very little, so Westerners will have to be content with their records (of which there are five to date, including a double, live album). It really is a shame that only Easterners (who are, however, by far the greatest supporters of bluegrass music) will be able to experience the thrill of a Seldom Scene performance. They are, to put it quite frankly, one of the finest groups in bluegrass today.  From: https://californiabluegrass.org/the-seldom-scene-3/

The Five Stairsteps - Ooh Child

They were known as the “First Family of Soul,” and, while they never achieved the acclaim as the next First Family of Soul, The Jacksons, The Five Stairsteps made an indelible mark on the music world. The children of Chicago police detective Clarence Burke, Sr. and his wife Betty, The Five Stairsteps (named by Betty because of their varying heights when standing together, like stairsteps) consisted of teenage boys Clarence Jr, James, Denis and Keni, as well as sister Alohe, usually backed by Clarence Sr on bass guitar. After creating buzz in the Chicago area, they were signed by Curtis Mayfield to his label, and they released a number of moderate hit songs, the biggest of which was 1966’s “You Waited Too Long.” Stardom eluded the talented group until 1970, when they released the Stan Vincent composition, “Ooh Child.” It became an instant classic, shooting all the way to #1 and turning the Five Stairsteps into the hot young soul group. While they had another charter with a cover of “Dear Prudence,” the Stairsteps (they dropped the “Five” when Alohe left in 1972) went a half decade before hitting the top 10 again with “From Us To You” from their Second Resurrection album. By 1977, the group had disbanded, but they weren’t quite done yet. Clarence Jr formed the disco band The Invisible Man’s Band, and recruited his brothers to join him. The result was a huge dance hit, 1978’s “All Night Thing.” While all of the siblings were talented musicians, brother Keni Burke developed as a legendary bass guitarist, both establishing a solo career (his “Risin To the Top” is one of the most sampled songs ever) and becoming a sought after studio musician. Over the next two decades he worked with virtually every major R&B act.  From: https://www.soultracks.com/five-stairsteps

The Bangles - September Gurls

The song September Gurls features lead vocals by Michael Steele (the track info is incorrect). It was recorded for the album Different Light. Despite the number of successes on this album, not all was well with the Bangle-verse. Tensions had escalated with their producer, David Kahne. During the recording of Different Light, he brought in replacements, at one time or another, for all the Bangles except Micki Steele, who has said, “He loved Sue’s voice, and he loved the way we did harmonies, but everything else was basically shit and he felt like he had to get rid of it, or try to work around it, or do something to make it palatable. I don’t know, maybe he ran out of money before he replaced my bass parts.”
Vicki Peterson says about this, “At one point, I’d had to leave the studio for an emergency, and I came back, and he had had his guy show up and do a solo. It was the backwards thing on ‘September Gurls.’ I hate to burst your bubble, I didn’t play that.
“This is one of my nightmare, nightmare stories. I walked into the studio after I had to leave, and this was already done. And Micki’s loving it—she thinks it sounds great! I looked at Kahne and I went ‘Oh! OK.’ And he said ‘Oh … did you want to try something?’ My will had pretty much been broken successfully by that point. It was really awful.”
Susanna Hoffs was more sympathetic towards Kahne, saying “I remember thinking ‘Boy, being a producer is a hard job.’ And I think he made it seem really hard because he was so driven by angst, and kind of perfectionistic. He had been an artist himself and never succeeded as an artist, so I think he was always tormented by ‘How would I do this if it was my record?’”
Of all the Bangles, Debbi had been affected most by Kahne. She said, “He said I physically couldn’t sing one of the songs. Physically couldn’t sing. It was one of those things where you might as well just stab me right now, just kill me. Cut my throat. Cut out my vocal chords. It was so devastating. It was hard for me to bounce back from that.
“I was actually, at one point, feeling kind of suicidal. This guy was screwing with my emotions so bad, and made me feel so shitty, that I just thought well, OK… I should’ve just told him to piss off. But we were caught between a rock and a hard place.” For their next album, Everything, the Bangles found a different producer, Davitt Sigerson.  From: https://genius.com/The-bangles-september-gurls-lyrics

"September Gurls" is a song written by Alex Chilton that was first released by Big Star on their second studio album Radio City in 1974. "September Gurls" was also released as a single. The song was named in tribute to the Beach Boys' "California Girls". It was inspired by three of the women in Chilton's life who he was thinking about at the time, including his ex-wife, having birthdays in September. According to Big Star bassist Andy Hummel, Chilton "was going through a lot of different girls that he was having relationships with, kind of simultaneously, and a lot of what's in those songs [including "September Gurls"] is him really just telling of his experiences with them and how he felt about them."
While "September Gurls" was never a big seller, it is considered a classic song by publications such as Rolling Stone and Allmusic, as well as by music journalist John M. Borack who wrote: "September Gurls" was and is the sine qua non of power pop, a glorious glittering jewel with every facet cut and shined to absolute perfection. While the Raspberries' "Go All the Way" provides a definitive encapsulation of what power pop is, "September Gurls" goes even further, not so much as the embodiment of a genre, but as a peerless, aching distillation of love and longing. "September Gurls" may not actually be the greatest song ever recorded, but for the duration of its 2:47 running time, you can be forgiven for believing it is.  From: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/September_Gurls

Mooner - Hei

Indonesian stoner metal isn’t a term that gets thrown around lightly in these parts. To be fair, its not a term I think I’ve ever thrown around up to this point, but given the thick billowing riffs on Mooner’s debut, it’s probably time to start exploring the rest of the Indonesian scene. The band is comprised Voltron style of members of existing Indo metal bands – The Sigit, Sigmun, The Slave, and Sarasvati. The music follows the tone of The Slave most closely and like that band the tracks from Tabiat were intended to back their own skate videos. The Slave/Mooner’s Absar Lebeh has been kicking around the skate world for some time actually which serves to explain why one of the only other US mentions of Mooner comes via Thrasher.
“So what does this all mean for me, the listener?” you say. Well, the band is riding nimbus clouds of guitar bearing down on a ’70s Flower Travelin’ Band / Mountain / Blues Creation highway. In fact, with the prog-ripped backdrop propping up the cinder-psych vocals from Marshella Safira, the band draws a pretty good side by side to Blues Creation’s collaboration with Carmen Maki when BC are at their heaviest. Even more apt in the recent reissue box touchstones would be the still overlooked Hungarian psych goddess Sarolta Zalatnay if she might have lasted to front the New Wave of British Metal. Comparisons aside, though, Mooner are 100% killin’ the nu-prog vibes and reveling in what are sure to be stacked crates of their own heavy faves seeping into the sound. The band cites Indonesian bands AKA and Panbers, so probably best to start there for some real-world comparisons. High quality crushers abound on this one that should have their American stoner metal counterparts sweatin’ their game.  From: https://www.ravensingstheblues.com/mooner/

Although they’re relatively unknown outside of their native Indonesia, Mooner are something of a supergroup on home soil. The band feature members of The Slave, The SIGIT, Sigmun, and Sarasvati – all well established acts, commanding huge audiences. These four musicians have carried some of that winsome magic over onto this Mooner release. Recorded at Red Studio, Bandung, mixed at Rebuilt Studio and then mastered by James Plotkin, Tabiat was originally released in Indonesia earlier this year via Bhang Records. The record is pure heavy psych with strong influences of Indian Raga and Middle Eastern touches thrown into a stoner rock stew. Tabiat is an update to the sounds found in early 70’s Indonesia while staying true to the roots of the original scene. We asked Rekti from the band what his 3 most influential releases are. So sit back, and enjoy the trip!

Shark Move – Ghede Chokra’s
Before it was reissued by Shadoks Music, a small boutique label from Germany, this record has been buried for more than 30 years and was unbeknownst to Indonesian music fans. It’s most killer song ‘Evil War’ gained both local and global attentions after Those Shocking Shaking Days an Indonesian psychedelic compilation released in 2011. Beside being the first self released Indonesian album, Ghede Chokra’s is a bold, uncompromised and explorative, with solid musicianship and song writing. This album is all killer-no filler. Other Indo counterparts (Koes Bersaudara, Panbers, AKA, etc) have their killer songs, but their albums always had that turn off moment for me. Ghede Chokra’s is one of few 70’s Indo albums that I can listen to in its entirety.

Hot Lunch – Hot Lunch
This is one of our all time best for sure. Because it has the best riffs, best guitar sounds, best driving bass lines, best drumming that shapes the songs’ dynamic, and album that sounds like a Greatest Hits Compilation. We want to emulate their sound so much when we recorded our album Tabiat, but never quite get it right. They covered ‘Knife Edge’ by Emerson, Lake & Palmer and I think Hot Lunch’s version is better than the original. I find Hot Lunch to be bit proggy, but in a very enjoyable way, which is also what we were trying to emulate at some point when we recorded our album.

Shocking Blue – Scorpio’s Dance
We love 60’s and 70’s rock hits that have dark and doomy feels to them. I think Shocking Blue has their dark and gloomy moments, especially in Scorpio’s Dance. There’s an obvious influence of country music and spaghetti western, almost CCR, but by listening to the intro track ‘Scorpio’s Dance (First Movement)’ alone, which is pretty heavy, I could tell that this album is not a peace & love hippy album.  Plus there are song titles like  ‘I Love Voodoo Music’, ‘Hello Darkness’ and ‘Daemon Lover’ that sounds gloomy and mysterious. They switch back and forth between heavy and light throughout the album, but those couple dark and gloomy songs left some sort of evil / demonic impression on me. I think I unconsciously modeled Mooner after Shocking Blue. Female singer, hooky riffs, doomy feels…

From: https://echoesanddust.com/2017/12/under-the-influence-with-rekti-from-mooner/

Kosmonaut - Euphoria Rising

It was sometime in the fall of 2019 that my friend BJ Kuhn and I decided to embark on a music journey. We wanted to make some music that was conceptually interesting and pay homage to all of the influences that we had. We embarked on our first record, a collection of EP’s that we had created that we decided to self title. It was an affirmation to everything that we were hoping it would be. It was raw, spontaneous, and honest. It was primitive and shamanistic, and absolutely us. We decided to rip the fucking rear view mirror off our proverbial hot rod that we were cruising in and continue to pursue our sound. “Blues in solstice “ was created while we kept working past our first album. It was literally a couple of months apart from the first batch of songs we created, and in some ways, it sounds like years were spaced in between the two. We picked up some momentum on this record thanks to Rob Hammer. He posted our first two albums to you tube and it was fucking inspiring. To think that we were lucky enough to have people listen and like our project was absolutely rewarding as fuck. We kept the momentum up with “frequency and vibration”, writing continuously since the first record. We wrote most of this record via email. We love to record, produce, and engineer music. Since we both have studios in our houses, we could work on music at our convenience, and move fast by just reacting off of each other’s material. That’s ultimately what makes this band so great. The spontaneity that exists in the writing. We have so much music to share with you! We don’t buy into the industries bullshit. We just love fucking music. We are metal heads, raised on the radio in the 90s, grunge-aholics, and well versed in all things recording. We wanted to put together a band that was all of those things, and I honestly think we succeeded with it. Check out all of our records at https://kosmonautofficial.bandcamp.com/. Most of the material is “name your price”. This means if you are fucking poor like we are, you can download it for free. It is worth it. We love our music and want you to have it. Thank you so much for listening, and if you actually read all this shit, then god bless you, you are fucking one of us, the lovers of music. –Bryan Blake – Kosmonaut
From: https://writteninstonedimension.wordpress.com/2020/06/07/kosmonaut-hyper-buzz-love/

Joan Armatrading - One More Chance

 

Singer/guitarist/songwriter Joan Armatrading—born in the West Indies and raised in Birmingham, England—makes records of warm, emotionally resonant music that has earned her a devoted following on at least two continents. Having never managed to move beyond a dedicated mid-sized following in the US, Armatrading had to watch as the singer/songwriter resurgence of the late ’80s sent likeminded artists (including nominal soundalike Tracy Chapman) catapulting past her hard-earned level of success with music that was not substantially different from hers. The subsequent slowing of her album output can certainly be presumed to have something to do with the more densely populated field into which it is now being released.

Whatever’s for Us, produced between Elton John albums by Gus Dudgeon, was a collaborative effort with lyricist Pam Nestor; on her own, with Dada/Vinegar Joe member Pete Gage at the helm, Back to the Night proved equally uncommercial. Armatrading then teamed up with Glyn Johns, who brought in ex-members of Fairport Convention as backing musicians for Joan Armatrading, an extraordinarily thoughtful and moving album that contains “Down to Zero” and “Love and Affection,” two of her most enduring and powerful compositions.

The intimate, upbeat Show Some Emotion is lovely, a casual-sounding album of songs that, if not among her best, are more than presentable and occasionally captivating. Johns also produced the harder-rocking To the Limit, a slightly dated-sounding collection of strong songs (which includes the notable “Bottom to the Top,” set to a gentle reggae beat) played by a small electric band that, at its most exuberant, resembles a modest Mad Dogs and Englishmen. He also produced Steppin’ Out, a live document of American performances: backed by a five-piece band, Armatrading delivers nine songs, including “Love and Affection” and “Cool Blue Stole My Heart.” How Cruel is a four-song 12-inch containing some non-LP material.

Me Myself I was produced by Richard Gottehrer and performed by a stellar cast of Anglo-American rock musicians (including Chris Spedding, Clarence Clemons, Danny Federici and three members of David Letterman’s band). Even in this all-electric setting, Armatrading and her songs hold up nicely. “Me Myself I” is brilliant, a chillingly beautiful declaration of independence with a memorable pop melody; the rest of the record explores the vagaries of love and percolates with energy, grace and sensitivity.

Steve Lillywhite took over the production reins for Walk Under Ladders, which fields a fascinating selection of players—XTC’s Andy Partridge, King Crimsonites Tony Levin and Mel Collins, Sly and Robbie, Thomas Dolby. Although the stylized results shortchange Joan’s personality a bit, successful numbers like “I Wanna Hold You” and “At the Hop” affirm her courageous desire to explore uncharted areas.

The Key is a slick package that employs many of the same players as Walk Under Ladders to recapture the potent melodic pop elements of Me Myself I. “(I Love It When You) Call Me Names” is a should-have-been-hit with spectacular multi-tracked harmonies and a hair-raising Adrian Belew guitar solo. “The Game of Love” has an Edge-like echoed guitar sound and a memorable chorus. Motels starmaker Val Garay produced the bristling “Drop the Pilot” (Lillywhite did all but one other track) with loud power chords and a stomping backbeat; although spoiled by ill- advised synths, “I Love My Baby” ends the record with a tender lullaby.

Secret Secrets lays open a world of pain and suffering. In “Persona Grata” Armatrading announces, “I’m your whipping boy,” adding “I’m in love with you” in a resigned, grim tone. “Love by You” and “Friends Not Lovers” mourn the end of a relationship with tragic depth. In “Strange,” she realizes “I am not missing you”; other songs (“Moves,” “One Night”) allow more hope to shine through the tears. Pino Palladino’s inimitable fretless bass provides the most notable instrumental character; other than on “Moves,” the sophisticated modern backing is rather faceless.

Armatrading produced Sleight of Hand, using just a drummer, bassist and keyboardist (with a few minor guest contributions) and staying out of any easily identifiable musical niche. She acquits herself well, both on guitar and behind the board, offering songs that suggest more personal happiness and stability than those on Secret Secrets.

From: https://trouserpress.com/reviews/joan-armatrading/

Stonefield - Live at Daytrotter Studios 2018 / Audiotree Live 2020

 Live at Daytrotter Studios 2018

  

 

Audiotree Live 2020 

 

Amy Findlay isn’t just Stonefield’s drummer she’s their vocalist too. Which is why, I think, that when she sings, she belts it out, a hard rock howl echoing over some rolling otherworldly expanse. The freedom to play and sing this way hasn’t always been something Amy and her sisters held within their grasp. Stonefield’s career in music started in a head-spinning daze of hype, major labels, and high rolling record producers. While this pushed the band’s music to a large audience, Amy has her reservations whether the group really had the opportunity to grow and evolve as organically as they otherwise might have. Fortunately, things have changed. Currently vibrating closer to the Do-It-Yourself attitude of King Gizzard and The Lizard Wizard and their label Flightless, Stonefield are free to create as they please, to pursue the eerie and mysterious dimensions of their sound. Their fourth record Bent reflects this. The Stonefield you hear on this album is no longer the group once vamped as The Next Big Thing (and good riddance to the whole idea). These musicians aren’t out to please anybody who doesn’t want to be here and in doing so are a step closer to the elemental energies of four people playing together in a band. Wasn’t that what this whole rock ‘n’ roll business was supposed to be about in the first place? As for the band, more than a few things are coming together. It’s a good feeling. As Amy herself would put it, there’s a light at the end of the tunnel.
 
HM: Your new record Bent is being released via King Gizzard’s record label Flightless. How did that come about?

AF: We met the Gizzard guys about seven years ago now. They played a show with us when we were doing… Hmm, what tour was it? It might have been the ‘Black Water Rising’ tour. Frickin’ years ago! It was a long time ago. We became friends with them all. We, at the time, were signed to a different label, Wunderkind which was supposed to be through Warner [Records] but then changed over to Mushroom [Records]. So I guess we came from a very different world to those guys in terms of the industry side of it. They were always very D.I.Y. which was something that we admired a lot, seeing them be able to do just whatever they wanted without having to convince anyone or have anyone else on their side. And it just kind of happened over time. We evolved and we wanted to eventually change the people we were working with, change our musical direction a little bit and do things the way we wanted to do it. We actually released our last record [Far From Earth] through [Flightless] but we had finished recording the whole thing and did it all ourselves without – well we were actually still signed to [Wunderkind] but it kind of just worked out that we really weren’t on the same page. And then Flightless were like, “Yeah, cool! Let’s put it out!” So it all worked out really well for us.

HM: You also recorded Bent at Flightless and King Gizzard headquarters…

AF: Yeah, it’s in Brunswick East. We did it when we got back from our January tour in the states. We did it fairly quickly. Those guys have always got a lot of stuff going on, so we did it with Stu [McKenzie] and Joe [Walker]. They squeezed us in between the million other things they’ve got happening. We just sort of prepared ourselves as much as we could to just kind of go in there and record it as live as possible. It took us about five days in total. Most of it was at night. But yeah, it was good. It was a really different experience to anything that we’ve done before. It was so quick and easy. We just went in there and did it! [Stu and Joe] didn’t really have too much to say other than, “Yeah, sounds sick! Keep going.”

HM: Looking at Stonefield’s four albums your sound seems to have been this interesting evolution towards a rawer and more live sound. Is that something you’ve consciously been trying to build toward?

AF: Definitely. Our sound has evolved so much. Thinking back to our first album [Stonefield] we feel like we were just so young and naïve. It’s kind of been interesting because I feel that, in a way, we’ve sort of worked backwards. For our first album we had this producer come in from the UK and did heaps of days in the studio in pre-production. It was also so proper, a big-label all-hands-on-deck kind of thing. And I think that experience, as much as it was great, threw us off a little bit because these were our first ever songs. We hadn’t really written any songs before that – we’d done a couple of EPs. It’s weird having to grow as a person and as a musician from the get-go rather than being around in a band for years-and-years playing covers then all of a sudden going, “Shit I’ve got to write an album.” It’s definitely evolved. We are at our rawest point now, which is definitely good. It’s what we always did want to do. But yeah, it’s kind of about catching the raw energy of your live set. It used to be difficult for us, but this is the first time we’ve actually achieved that and it’s just from like, not stressing over anything and just doing it. Getting it done the way that we do it and not focusing on a guitar sound for hours. It’s just like, “What we do live is cool. We like that sound so let’s just do that.” So yeah, it’s no stuffing around. And I think that’s the best we’ve ever done.

HM: You’ve been in a band, a rock band for 13 years. And it seems that even from the outset you had a firm idea of what you wanted to play and how you wanted to play it…

AF: Yeah.

HM: It’s a big commitment, not only being dedicated to a certain sound but also to playing with a certain group of people…

AF:  From the get-go, we’ve always been a rock band. That’s always what we’ve wanted to do and we wouldn’t have it any other way. I’ve never thought, “Oh, I’d like to write a solo album.” (Actually, we have joked about that.) [Laughs] No, yeah, we’ve stuck to that and not ever seriously thought about changing. Thinking back to all, you know, those years and all those songs that are currently hits on triple j – there’s a lot of y’know electronic music and whatever. And yeah, it’s hard being in a rock band. In all this time that rock has been at the absolute forefront of what’s in… I think we just missed that rock ‘n’ roll riot when Wolfmother and all those bands were big.

HM: But obviously you’ve toured all over the world and can see that there is another kind of audience for rock. It might not be the huge audience that it once was here in Australia but there are these large pockets of people who are still very much in love with it. You think that sound has finally had its day and then you see someone like King Gizzard starting to get really big in the states after they had released all those albums back in 2017…

AF: Yeah. Definitely. In Australia, it was easier when we first started off because we had that whole sort of triple j hype, which is definitely a specific kind of audience. But then I think that if you are sticking to being a rock band you are really relying on that fan base that just loves rock music. So I guess that we always feel like there is some sort of audience in Australia but we definitely got to the point where we were like, “Okay. Australia is a big country, but the population isn’t big enough to sustain a career playing this music and just staying here.”
It’s not enough. So that’s why we really started to focus on going overseas because there are so many more people that love that music to play to and kind of you know, broaden our audiences. It’s been really interesting playing in the states and in Europe as well. While it’s still not a mainstream genre of music, there’s just so many more people in the rest of the world. You can go to all these different cities, drive a few hours each day and be in a whole different city with a big group of people that love that music. So it definitely has – I don’t know I guess it’s like seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. You can see that, yes, you can sustain doing what you love. And there is an audience that’s big enough for it. Watching Gizzard achieving what they’ve done, it’s definitely inspiring. I feel like they are kind of like an exception. What they’ve done is pretty amazing and every band would love to have that. But it is great to see that so many people are into the music. That’s probably going to help shift things a little bit.

HM: Circling back to this idea that you’re committed to this certain kind of music, you might even go as far as to say that you love it. I’m interested in where that comes from if you could put a finger on it. Is there something about rock that you’ve always connected with or thought, “That’s what I want to do, there’s no other way!”

AF:  I think it’s just because that’s literally what we grew up on. Rock ‘n’ roll was our childhood and all of our memories ever. And I think it’s just such a fun genre to play live.
And it’s also quite broad. I feel like that within rock there’s a lot of different ways that you can push it, like doing the wholes stoner rock thing or dreamy, shoegazey kind of stuff. You can kind of explore it and there’s a lot of places to go. Which is something that I feel like we’ve been doing a little bit as well. I never really feel restricted or anything like that. It’s just what comes out of us. I don’t know, I hadn’t really about it too much. That’s just what we do.

HM: Some people have called Stonefield ‘psychedelic’. Does that word hold any special meaning for you or is the music just something that happens when you get together and play instruments?

AF: I guess it’s just what happens really. But definitely with the last record, we were like, “Let’s make something a bit heavier and more eerie.”

From: https://cosmicmagazine.com.au/features/stonefields-amy-findlay-on-touring-king-gizzard-and-the-psychedelic-sound/

 

Timber Timbre - Beat The Drum Slowly

 In 2009, when Timber Timbre released their self titled album, there was a night where I found myself in a Montreal strip club on a quiet Tuesday and I witnessed a beautiful dark haired woman strip to “Lay Down in the Tall Grass.” It was a strange moment. I’d heard the album by then but I’d never considered Taylor Kirk’s menacing lyrics to be sexy. Until then they put me in a discomforting mood. They were words too dark to face reflected back to you. Timber Timbre’s latest and fifth release, Hot Dreams, gets darker and sexier still with their title track and, as if in reenactment of that wonderful Montreal night, accompanies it with a video in a strip club where time seems to slow to a stop. But the darkness is still overpowering. The songs from their new album are funeral marches and laments. They’re predatory, film noir inspired dirge pop. They’re the kind of songs Nick Cave would write if Nick Cave were Lee Hazelwood. It’s easy to take the darkness of a writers words and twist them into a mythical cloud surrounding the person. When I walked into a Toronto bar to meet with Timber Timbre singer Taylor Kirk, I walked past without recognizing him. Far from the dark and broody pictures that Timber Timbre paints with their music, Taylor was wearing flannel and a touque, drinking beer like an old time hoser at the bar. He was warm but nervous, soft spoken over the Pavement album that played in the background. We spoke of the brewing controversy of their song “Hot Dreams,” Taylor’s reluctant celebrity and his disenchantment with Hollywood.

Noisey: Your new song “Hot Dreams” begins with the line, “I wanna dance with a Black woman.” The song seems to be about the desire to feel something new whether that be good or bad. How does “dancing with a Black woman” fit into that narrative?

Taylor Kirk: “Hot Dreams” is about fantasy and exploring and reconciling love and sex, love and fantasy, sex and fantasy. It’s about exploring otherness. Someone asked me if I’d considered that it’s a fetishization of a race and I still don’t know how to answer that question. I consider that we have, with our records and songs, we’ve fetishized certain kinds of music and certain records. I asked this person if he felt that we had fetishized Black music because I think we have and I think we do with this song. I’m trying to write a song about sex and fantasy in what I understand. I think we understand American Black music to be a sexy music so it’s congruent with that concept. I mean, a friend of mine who is very into playing roles and embodying different characters with her writing and her storytelling and her lyrics, which I’m doing to an extent but to a lesser extent, she felt that in the song I must be embodying a jerk. I considered that the line is dangerous but not a damaging thing to sing.

Do you understand why people might have a problem with that line?

Of course. That’s what I mean, I considered it to be dangerous but I still don’t think that it’s destructive or damaging.

You brought up blues music and a white appropriation of it. Do you think that’s still an issue? How do you feel about playing blues music?

I think it’s done. I was thinking more of soul music with the previous comment but I don’t know, I think it’s over, I don’t even think it’s interesting. The idea of white blues was never something I liked or wanted to hear and it was something I avoided. My Dad plays in a blues rock band and I always felt some aversion to blues rock. But at some point I was trying to not sound like myself and trying to embody that sound, just the aesthetic of it.

Do you think you sound like yourself now?

More so. I think with each song I write and each recording there’s less pretense to what I’m doing and there’s less of an affectation. One thing that I’ve noticed on every album, except Cedar Shakes, is that the figure of the “hunter” always comes up. It’s in "Patron Saint Hunter," "Magic Arrow," "Lonesome Hunter," it comes up on the new album in "Bring Me Simple Men."

What is the hunter to you? What does it represent?

With the most recent recording Simone Schmidt wrote the words to that song, or I guess we wrote them together. I considered avoiding those kinds of images and motifs that I had explored previously. But I think that one, along with other kinds of images or references that seemed to be menacing or predatory, I wanted to leave out. I guess this was something I’d been considering previously as a way to offset the vulnerability I felt as a songwriter, as a singer, as a lyricist, mainly. It felt good to sing and disguise what I was singing about in something powerful.

Do you consider yourself a hunter?

In the past I would have considered myself the prey, more vulnerable. Then to wear the mask of the hunter. It seemed to be some kind of equalizer going into the act of performing or putting music out. I guess mainly for performing.

Are you uncomfortable performing?

I’m getting better. It’s taken me a long time to get comfortable. I think I’m used to it. Maybe I’m used to being uncomfortable.

What makes you comfortable?

Whiskey, usually.

Do you see yourself as a reluctant figurehead or a reluctant celebrity? Do you think a lot of the things you’ve fallen into, you’ve fallen into them reluctantly?

Yes. It feels very unnatural. Nothing about doing this professionally feels like a natural thing to do except the act of making the thing. Otherwise there’s very little about the rest of it that feels obvious.

So why do you do it?

That’s a good question…I’m used to it. I’m getting used to it.

I’m of the understanding that you’ve been reluctant to form a rock band with bass and drums and guitar, which is the form it’s in now. How did your guard come down to the point where it could be a traditional rock band?

I was more interested in the people I was playing with than the instrumentation. So I found people who were nice to be around and nice to play with, being Mika and Simon. Then we started to work with Olivier, who is a drummer, and I was never interested in playing with a drummer, particularly, it’s not like he would be replaceable. I like playing with him. And it’s the same with Matt. The project has always been a little nebulous in that format that it was in before. It was unconventional, I guess, and it got to be a little bit boring to not be able to always win people over. Where something that is in the rock format, it’s just so much more reliable. It’s undeniable and familiar and it doesn’t demand as much of people to adjust their mind around what it looks like. Optically as well, like what’s happening onstage. People really struggled with that before.

Are you looking to challenge your audience less?

No, it’s more that I don’t want to challenge myself. I never felt it was so strange, what we were doing before, but once we started to play with drums and bass the reaction and response was so much more a polar opposite of the reaction we were getting before, which was exciting and different. The set before was really languid and it was almost experimental at times and meditative and it required a lot of attention and patience and focus. Now it’s innate. It’s rock ‘n roll. Almost.

The first song on the new album, "Beat the Drum Slowly" seems like a condemnation of our celebrity-obsessed culture, especially concerning film. Is it a condemnation?

It’s more of a lament. I was staying in Laurel Canyon in Los Angeles and I was around Hollywood and Hollywood film people and it made me lament a time of film making and an aesthetic that I really liked and that I really related to somehow. Hollywood is such a surface thing. It’s not an exaggeration, you really see it when you go there. You can feel it. It feels like a superfluous, self contained thing and it feels like people are really delusional. There was something about being in that place and hearing the stories come up and the mythology that surrounds that place that made me want to go and watch Chinatown. Meanwhile The Hobbit would be opening down on Sunset or the Wizard of Oz movie with these computer generated movies which are, to me, so pathetic and so gross. And the red carpet stuff and all that whole scene, it was annoying.

Just before the album Timber Timbre was released, years ago, I saw you perform at a label party and there was already some excitement about it, there were a lot of people who showed up to see you for the first time. You sat onstage and you played bird noises from a record player for about half an hour and then you walked off. It seemed like a rebellious move. I don’t know if it was rebellious or if you would view it that way, but how connected are you to the performer you were then?

My friend Jonas and I had this collection of Solitudes records on vinyl and we made loops and made essentially a noise set with these things, like ocean waves and birds. It’s funny because I wouldn’t do that now. It was a rebellious thing. I think at the time I really wasn’t interested in playing that space. I had played a lot of big rooms like that and played to people talking through the whole set and to do that solo a number of times is so disheartening. I knew that that’s how it would be in that place so I said fuck it, I’ll do what I want and I’ll have fun with this show and I won’t expose myself. Or I won’t put myself through anything. But it didn’t feel like I was doing a stunt. It didn’t feel like there was that much interest in the project at that time, I didn’t think anyone would be bothered by it. That was naive, I think.

From: https://www.vice.com/en/article/rb8wjw/timber-timbre-its-going-down