cybermule: (lava)
Sitting in the crypt of an unused church right off the central circus of Bristol city centre. It's dark and the ceiling's fan vaulting is dimly sketched in the overarching gloom.

Some people are sitting on those cloth and metal chairs that I remember from school speech days. Others are flopped or curled on bean bags and cushions growing on the darkened floor like fungi. There are three figures at the front of the crypt.


Erect.
Cross legged.
The tools of their trade are neatly arrayed before them.


One takes a brass bowl and lights some vegetable something with a bright flame and copious smoke. The city sounds of a summer Friday night coerce their way through a broken pane of dust filmed leaded window. Revelery, sirens and buses are then obliterated by the unholy noise of unearthly instruments and inhuman voices.

The harmonious din is all together disproportionate to those three slight figures on the floor before us peaked with pointed mage-hats and cacooned in deep dark veils.



Occasionally passers-by look through the broken window then wander off befuddled, as this is truly an aural wilderness - there's no particular graspable frame of reference of verse-chorus-verse. No expected song structure. No words, even.

Just three circumspect men quietly and methodically weaving a cradle of of unplaceable soundscape.
And by the end of it, my head was ringing and entirely happily baffled in their tightly laced wailsong cage. One of the most confusingly peaceful places I may have been in the name of art :)

Ow fuck ow

Jun. 25th, 2010 04:49 pm
cybermule: (manic)
The joys of dissociative painkilling #1

It allows me to sit here and type with my right hand while my left shoulder gibbers and mouths obscenities at me through a sheet of analgesic plate glass. Goddam it hurts. Ironically, it doesn't seem to have been carving out 6 cubic feet of bedrock with a crowbar that did it, but instead sitting at a desk fiddling with Sharepoint. Or maybe avoiding the 4-wheeled fucker that nearly pasted me against the railway bridge on the cycle ride home. Anyway, after a sleepless night that left me looking like a RAGE victim, completely with bruise where I rubbed my eye too viciously, I caved in and got some codeine and now feel human. I felt ok between miles 1 and 7 on an 8-mile run last night - yay endorphins and finally getting off my arse to do it - then the happy chemicals wore off, and the ibuprofen I'd taken two hours earlier started burning a vomitous hole in my stomach lining.

Ibuprofen bad, codeine good, m'kay?

The joys of dissociative painkilling #2

My brain actually shuts up and starts working at a normal-person speed. Instead of its constant blehblehbleh, it becomes generally empty with the occasional fairly significant feeling thought drifting through. Maybe like meditation - I've never sat still long enough for it to work. Yoga sort of works, as does gardening, as the physical movement seems to derail some of the nervous energy enough to let my thoughts be actually useful and well-paced, rather than bashing themselves against my skull like amphetamine crazed mosquitoes.

Maybe if I had less thoughts, I'd talk more. Maybe I'm just not that into talking. I'm probably beyond the age of changing that significantly. Anyhoo, in other news, I remembered I have many fab gigs lined up this year. Grinderman, Eels, Skinny Puppy AND Crystal Castles. And a Wonka themed Judder. Rawk. And my shoulder is pain free enough to be able to mash up Prodigy and Sergio Leone on my decks :)

Ow fuck ow

Jun. 25th, 2010 04:49 pm
cybermule: (Default)
The joys of dissociative painkilling #1

It allows me to sit here and type with my right hand while my left shoulder gibbers and mouths obscenities at me through a sheet of analgesic plate glass. Goddam it hurts. Ironically, it doesn't seem to have been carving out 6 cubic feet of bedrock with a crowbar that did it, but instead sitting at a desk fiddling with Sharepoint. Or maybe avoiding the 4-wheeled fucker that nearly pasted me against the railway bridge on the cycle ride home. Anyway, after a sleepless night that left me looking like a RAGE victim, completely with bruise where I rubbed my eye too viciously, I caved in and got some codeine and now feel human. I felt ok between miles 1 and 7 on an 8-mile run last night - yay endorphins and finally getting off my arse to do it - then the happy chemicals wore off, and the ibuprofen I'd taken two hours earlier started burning a vomitous hole in my stomach lining.

Ibuprofen bad, codeine good, m'kay?

The joys of dissociative painkilling #2

My brain actually shuts up and starts working at a normal-person speed. Instead of its constant blehblehbleh, it becomes generally empty with the occasional fairly significant feeling thought drifting through. Maybe like meditation - I've never sat still long enough for it to work. Yoga sort of works, as does gardening, as the physical movement seems to derail some of the nervous energy enough to let my thoughts be actually useful and well-paced, rather than bashing themselves against my skull like amphetamine crazed mosquitoes.

Maybe if I had less thoughts, I'd talk more. Maybe I'm just not that into talking. I'm probably beyond the age of changing that significantly. Anyhoo, in other news, I remembered I have many fab gigs lined up this year. Grinderman, Eels, Skinny Puppy AND Crystal Castles. And a Wonka themed Judder. Rawk. And my shoulder is pain free enough to be able to mash up Prodigy and Sergio Leone on my decks :)
cybermule: (manic)
I'm going to try and review more of the things I see on here - it'll get me in the habit of posting, and also help me feel like I do stuff :)

I saw the Prodigy twice last year (I'm a bit of a groupy :)) - the first time they were very good, the second time they were good enough, but seemed kind of tired. As they have continued to tour since then, I was a bit worried about the prognosis for this gig, but they didn't disappoint.

They'd freshened up the setlist a bit, so I was pleasantly surprised that they didn't finish on Out of Space :) Lots of old favourites there, with some of the new album songs thrown in, and some really fresh new mixes on most of the songs. The venue was more intimate than other times I've seen them, and maybe this gave them more enregy? Whatever the reason, they seemed a lot more genuinely happy to be performing and a good time was had by all :)
cybermule: (Default)
I'm going to try and review more of the things I see on here - it'll get me in the habit of posting, and also help me feel like I do stuff :)

I saw the Prodigy twice last year (I'm a bit of a groupy :)) - the first time they were very good, the second time they were good enough, but seemed kind of tired. As they have continued to tour since then, I was a bit worried about the prognosis for this gig, but they didn't disappoint.

They'd freshened up the setlist a bit, so I was pleasantly surprised that they didn't finish on Out of Space :) Lots of old favourites there, with some of the new album songs thrown in, and some really fresh new mixes on most of the songs. The venue was more intimate than other times I've seen them, and maybe this gave them more enregy? Whatever the reason, they seemed a lot more genuinely happy to be performing and a good time was had by all :)
cybermule: (Default)
I'm hopeless - great ideas for posts come into my head, then I forget them straight away. Guess they couldn't have been that great, huh?

Last night I went to Perry Barr. Interesting place.

Barcelona was great, but we weren't there long enough to do more than a whistlstop Gaudi tour and stroll on the beach a few times. Which was brilliant anyway. Walked for miles and miles with Ben and his following of adoring Spanish grandmas.

Berlin was also good. They have some excellent museums, and I walked around the botanical gardens, with a video installation about psychoactive plants. Very interesting, and I was surprised to be able to pick out information from it, even though it was in German. Poor 0ct0pus was stuck in conference, but we did sightsee the Brandenburg Gate and the Reichstag at night, which was super-cool. Their customs officers are bastards, though.

Been listening to The Who a lot lately. "Pictures of Lily" actually contributed to my downfall from grace, many years ago. I was briefly "born again", and was given a helpful book on what to avoid as a new, young Christian. The Who were one thing to avoid, due to their promotion of masturbation in the above mentioned song.

I was quite into music at the time. Still am, actually - I've been accused of not being cool enough to be "into" music, then recently realised that I just don't feel the need to play it aloud. My head plays me music all the time. Anyhoo, having scanned my collection of tapes... The Who, Led Zeppelin, Bowie, Lou Reed ... I realised that The Who were the least unsavoury of my collection and I would probably have to bin them all.

Not really much competition - I still own most of the albums.

Jesus is a great guy, I just often don't like his friends.

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