Kismet- let me tell you about it
This “mix”-it gathers in emotions, like a heap of warm blankets, fall scarves, rather than insisting on a feeling ,redistributing them ,shedding mood structures,
In an age , and in times of where the emotional is summed up, or signified too often in time lapsed mile stone segmented euphoria’s and its subsequent “weepy eyes”
And/or in a numbed -out”amazement”!,where it’s the information/”feelings” equivalent of fast food fullness,((race cars ,skiing slopes ,freefall))?,
Or even the accessible-/apocalyptic, -cobbling together of doom layered exploitation, hope snuffing, to make you feel dread and grab to buy survival packs, or bored to tears and seeking out to purchase weaponry as quik fix ((well that’s “hardcore”))!
This mix ,this kismet touched music is neither,/either way…
;-a series or suite of places,impressions,nagging doubts,and stray dog hopes,not named,caught as kites in branches, between known abandoned ,fingered charms ,..
Theres no over-the-counter reassurances here, no selling of prime time share real estate ,, (though this is some trip),and theres a strong urging or persuading to the sharing of “time/s”,being in and out of time/s..-kis/met iks
No air b n b holiday destination perfection,nor prurient salivating over any of these things exploding and crumbling into dust((this is hard core!)??
Its gentle ,
No money shots
Its resonances and invocations are freighted emotional states,as gathered,oxygenated ,,distorted,and shed weight,dessicated light
Quarterised/??cauterised time zones ,,-as I think ,or feel when I play it,or it plays me?
It’s a “drive”,a “journey”,all sensory process,perpetual motion prismaticx ,
Its no marketable cliched “soundtrack to an imaginary film”(though”?/…
Its more tapping into something,? A universal mislaid memory?/or pre-cog anticipatory vibration(for some reinstated future1?)
Notes are loops as weather quilt,expansion barely seen but felt,camouflaged convenience stores drift by,cloud gatherings caught on tree canopies,synchronised to backwards masked loops ,and stitched in glitches–
These,rather than barely intelligible or coherent ,arguably the only way a body or grouping ,contemporaneously /listen /hear/) value or decode information,read as news or feel as message?/code running is hardcore!!
-this wirey information,is twisted threaded through ,pulled tight for transmissions ,morsed out pulse bracelettted currents,
Spectres in the wires to make the birds jump and scatter, make the flocks rorsarch n portent,,
Site specifics blur into aroma tensions ,heightened senses ,balancing the eros and the depressive, dividing and multiplying crushes w/anxieties “babylons burning ,babylons burning “kismet ,-everything’s moving!, futures fucking with the past,s moment, caught in the here and now,like denims caught on a barbed wire fence, snagged by therapeutic beauty and t he insistencies on comforts wherever you can find them?,protection, however you can suit it up and deliver it -it’s a “romance “
These textures and frames ,aren’t cold sinew ,or bleak data collage ,they ,or you /,or i? have an organic cohesion, an aura that amounts to light on yr face, dappled gooseflesh on arms,ants in pants,tongues whiling the journey away ,writing on the roof of mouth- its that kinda music!1x
Huckleberry Finn as encrusted saint of salivated thought n deeds, scaring predators off with a pack of unhummable theme songs!–its that kind of music ,,,,,
Ok , so hereby the digital world and its various whelms are translatable, able to be translated ,
By guitar strum,
Guitar hits and kicks picks n pokes,- a neurological establishing of scratches, tics n tells, pauses and ponderings sewn into distended beat visions and back again, as cookery, slippery pottery ,sonically propulsive smearing’s daubing’s, scrapes and thuds ,,the guitar is fork ,prod and rod ,
For summoning’s of fire ,air and water,..
Watch this!1its a bucolic motoric, through scenario upon scenario, you get the sense of capital dislodging, unlovable ,dissolving trying to save its ridiculous pompous ass all around you, should be disturbing but rendered here as the blues ,the green/s to the browns and deepening reds all autumnals in one,hopeful ,hearty resistant, babe -these are our hymn type moments if you want them !?
We remember being soothed and saved, seen and held by the alternative tape and radio lexicography of our troubled youth and beyond, by chance radio tuning, hip hopped to real life events cracked and split, fretted over, as we dreamt of “home12and what that might constitute, “home “and” love” and the reaffirming ramifications of such ?-do you hear it ,or did we imagine it ,and is this it ? and how much mysterious influence
can a tethered mind stand?
Free of body changing chemicals nausea headaches and anxiety rashes,-we thought we could rid ourselves ,change our ways
The drive is the car is the journey is memeorific ,ongoing, fools spoolin ,goofs fall right out ,we go off !1mc proustians burritos in the backseat ,mountain dew spilling bottle rolling ,van stink and broke exhaust in real time yet slowweedd right down..
Bombs are going off,missiles death energy is spot lit we need captions and comment barriers soundbite comments to make poetic sense of war and violence, fireworks and famines, rumours and floods ,,newspeak doesn’t carry it ,-the end of ones shadow self treading on the toes of another yesferatu,
The rockstars have gone ,back to the fields ,need some decades of unlearn,some serious unmind,urr mending no more re working nevermind , with that car roof top up, this is how we hear and kis met meet,,yr out of town now!1- you state it’s the city you hate,the crowds and the lies inseparable by decree and at this point you want for nothing!, you just wanna feel pleasure in the “revolutionarily inclined “!1?/its an oceanic vantage point in the middle of nowheresville by the sea ,that insists upon wave after wave of peace out!1 and belt rusted bliss!,-like I say it sounds magical in a way things don’t or gave up hope on ,it’s the old money in pennies,and I o u notes from the heart currency, eschewing the obvious, its ritual music ,,as we send the dial for aperture value ,and sensory volume as we picture lovers as dancers, like from daydreams borne of tombed out office bound reveries ,, here is the map,,for choreographic hieroglyphics , stoicism and sensualities foot soldiers lay sleepy heads on yr shoulders , off the clock not too tight ,hand in yr hand not too clammy ,making a heart shape ,
“Moving -/to the country” kiss- met /rewind xx