Thursday, 7 July 2011

Before I go to bed I open my bedroom window (wide open) and stick my head out. Breathing. At night I'm always more calm and present. The sky is never completely dark in summer nights. Nuances of blue fading. I see silhouettes of cranes by the harbour, industries and skyscrapers blur in mist. Streaks of clouds thin as veils. Squeaks and din from the train yard. Distant sounds of labour.

In the morning I eat oatmeal and half a grapefruit. Two cups of tea. Sounds of the train yard pierce my kitchen windows.

The herringbone parquet creaks as I walk around my apartment. The water kettle whistles. The sound of an SMS (hopes). I try to embrace as many things as I can (sounds, atmospheres). A record crackles ...

(right-click, "save link as...")

Tuesday, 10 May 2011

It's a sharp sound all the way through. You can't hear the dialogue. You wonder what the French viewers were able to pick up from it, and you love the written words that intervene. Week End 1967.

Sunday, 17 April 2011

Dak - fortheSUN

Cornell Campbell - The Sun

Wednesday, 30 March 2011

Tunes I like are often hypnotic. I like to dwell there, I guess – in the 'place-in-between'. And that atmosphere: blissfully sad. (In between). Shed's music often exist  in that place. 
That's why i like Shed.  
Shed is sometimes EQD:

EQD - #002-B

Wednesday, 9 March 2011

The new capital resembles an enormous aircraft landed in the middle of the dense jungle. The government buidlings and other official structures constitute the fuselage and the apartment complexes are laid out according to strict patterns to resemble wings. Now this enormous shining modernist bird is set to lift the nation to a higher level of progress and welfare for all of its citizens. Its grace inspires us all to face all the challenges to come with a steady gaze and courageous heart.

Marcos Valle - Samba Fatal

Friday, 4 March 2011

Saturday, 26 February 2011

I could tell you a hundred things.
Or nothing at all.

Wednesday, 23 February 2011

One thing you taught me: Friendships should last longer than a drink.
I still miss you.

Hong Kong in the 60s - You Can Take A Heart But You Cannot Make It Beat

Saturday, 12 February 2011

It has always been said that enchantment is brought in the burying alive of great waters, yet the purchase may be a perilous one. The "lost rivers" can still create stench and dampness. The Fleet River, at times of storm, can still reach beyond its artificial containment and flood basements along its route; at its source in Hampstead it was the expediter of agues and fever. The valleys of these rviers, many now converted into roads or train-lines, were subject to fog as well as damp.

Coil - The Lost Rivers of London

Monday, 7 February 2011

My name is Valentina Tereshkova. I'm about to become the first woman in space, now preparing to be immortalized, a bright and shiny silver GodHead of the Soviet space age, clusters of stars and fireworks in my eyes and alien radio signals buzzing in my ears while soft meteor rains surrounding my exploding corona of platinum flashes, eternal diamond reflections covering my retinas gelatinous surface noise. Eternal lightbulb neon tinted Cinemascope poetry of the firmament. I will catch you if you fall. Always.


Charlie - Spacer Woman

Saturday, 5 February 2011

Pulse resonant. Hypnosis-dissolved & firm as a bulb.

Wareika Hill Sounds - Kumina Mento Rasta

Wednesday, 26 January 2011

Surely a song with a title like this must be banned soon?

Tuesday, 25 January 2011

Only think about the future in daylight.

Michael Garrick - Return of an Angel

Do writers write differently when there's google earth? When they can't imagine the places that already are on the map, and when a place doesn't have to be drawn from the writer's own memory.

Teddy Lasry - Earth

Sunday, 23 January 2011

"Excuse me, Sir! Can you change a dollar into quarters?"
"Sorry, I haven't got any change."
"Ah, well, never mind."
"By the way, what are you doing in a back alley like this one? There's nothing to see here."
"Well, I sort of like the peace and quiet here. Also, I'm a bit fascinated that such a quiet street exists, right here in the middle of New York City."
"Yeah, it's real quiet now, but you should have been here thirty or forty years ago. There used to be a jazz club down there on the corner, called Galaxy."
"Really? I didn't know that."
"And do you know why it was called Galaxy? Because it was full of stars! Ha ha ha"
"Ha ha ha. Yeah, well now it's more like a black hole..."
"It is. You're right, it sure is..."

David van Tieghem - Galaxy

Tuesday, 18 January 2011

I got clouds on ma Ericsson, clouds on ma Nokia.

Thursday, 13 January 2011

Suddenly awake. Subtly overwhelmed.

DJ Nate - Find Your Dreams

Tuesday, 11 January 2011

We bought the present in the department store and walked ildly through the cold towards our home, arm in arm, silent in thought. Halfways we stopped by the florist and Mr Nilsson came out into the street and showed us carnations and lilies. He was just as silent and strangely absent as we were but went to great lenghts to show us his goods. We nodded our goodbyes, satisfied that we hadn't been seriously distracted. I turned my head once and saw the florist arranging some flowers in buckets out on the pavement, very content, very much in a place of his own.

Basil Kirchin & John Coleman - A Time For Loving

Wednesday, 5 January 2011

Tuesday, 4 January 2011

A glass of cold kisel in a surreal garden. Noone knows if it's sunrise or sunset. We're waitning for the eclipse.

Ann Steel - Quite Still