The above instrument was my first bass ever, and was purchased in a guitar shop in Freeport, NY (home of Lou Reed). It was manufactured in Sweden around 1966-69. While its design ethic was heavily influenced by the company's accordion production (extensive use of brightly colored plastics and vinyls), its sound was deep and warm, hampered only by a rather useless wooden bridge. Luckily its neck was thin and fast, making it quite the gift to a young player just starting out.
Friday, July 25, 2014
I guess it starts with a series of frenzied contradictions, be they formal, coloristic, haptic, or conceptual. Abstraction could be seen as a process of indefinite "befores" until the idea of time is consummated or completed. Until then, liminality rules as artist and artwork are in a state of continual resurrection.
Saturday, July 19, 2014
I'd sworn off most external signal processors and pedals when I decided modular synthesis was my primary "musical" focus generally because of the the expansive, expensive, and often confusing potential of formats like Serge and Buchla. Didn't I have enough stuff to dredge through? Well, apparently not. The Kaleidoloop is great way to introduce an abundance of sonic detritus into the guts of my Buchla for even more processing, and in doing so, embrace the promising gap between the rational and the irrational. Keep looping!
Friday, July 18, 2014
One of the more idiosyncratic basses that I've owned. This 1962 instrument screams both "space-age" and "vintage" simultaneously, even retaining its oddball status as the years have passed. I believe they were originally sold through the the Montgomery Ward catalogue, just as Silvertone was sold through Sears Roebuck. Its extreme short scale (30") may feel quite strange to modern players, yet its cache of cool is nearly infinite.
Sunday, July 13, 2014
Wednesday, July 9, 2014
Although I have these tracks already in one form or the other, just the thought of uniting the group's early independent (most via Rough Trade) singles with later commerce-oriented dance tracks (through Some Bizarre/Virgin) makes for an inviting listen. These, along with Karlheinz Stockhausen's early electronic works were my introduction to noise as form, provocation, poetry and substantive experience. I certainly never would have bridged the supposed chasm between my work in the visual arts and that other idiom, "music" without them. For those who've never experienced the unremitting tension of "Nag Nag Nag" and the diseased funk of "James Brown", this is certainly a convenient form of self-abuse.