the child grows enormous but never grows up



M83 - Wait

The word epic should be reserved for videos like this.

Fullscreen it.


Hans Henny Jahnn - diagram of a church organ’s harmonics.
German writer Hans Henny Jahnn was an organ builder – his restoration of the Schnitger organ in Hamburg’s St. Jacobi church between 1919 and 1923 is a cornerstone of the German Organ Reform Movement.


Hans Henny Jahnn - diagram of a church organ’s harmonics.

German writer Hans Henny Jahnn was an organ builder – his restoration of the Schnitger organ in Hamburg’s St. Jacobi church between 1919 and 1923 is a cornerstone of the German Organ Reform Movement.


You can cling to his purity, the devotion to his songs that drove him, enveloped him, and, in a way, killed him. Or, if you’re sick of looking for purity and devotion, sick of deferring to biographies and re-circulating old myths, you can just trust your own ears. You can just listen to those songs. All night. And dream.
Will Sheff on Townes Van Zandt, "I Live My Broken Dreams"



mac demarco test press interview.

i like this guy. new album goes way hard.

I want to be his best friend.

Quite Possibly the Very First “Boom” Box?

Patent Drawing for M. Boom’s Music Box, 11/14/1882


Quite Possibly the Very First “Boom” Box?

Patent Drawing for M. Boom’s Music Box, 11/14/1882


Gavin Bryars, “Jesus’ Blood Never Failed Me Yet.”

Bryars: “In 1971, when I lived in London, I was working with a friend, Alan Power, on a film about people living rough in the area around Elephant and Castle and Waterloo Station. In the course of being filmed, some people broke into drunken song — sometimes bits of opera, sometimes sentimental ballads — and one, who in fact did not drink, sang a religious song ‘Jesus’ Blood Never Failed Me Yet’. This was not ultimately used in the film and I was given all the unused sections of tape, including this one.

“When I played it at home, I found that his singing was in tune with my piano, and I improvised a simple accompaniment. I noticed, too, that the first section of the song — 13 bars in length — formed an effective loop which repeated in a slightly unpredictable way. I took the tape loop to Leicester, where I was working in the Fine Art Department, and copied the loop onto a continuous reel of tape, thinking about perhaps adding an orchestrated accompaniment to this. The door of the recording room opened on to one of the large painting studios and I left the tape copying, with the door open, while I went to have a cup of coffee. When I came back I found the normally lively room unnaturally subdued. People were moving about much more slowly than usual and a few were sitting alone, quietly weeping.

“I was puzzled until I realised that the tape was still playing and that they had been overcome by the old man’s singing. This convinced me of the emotional power of the music and of the possibilities offered by adding a simple, though gradually evolving, orchestral accompaniment that respected the tramp’s nobility and simple faith. Although he died before he could hear what I had done with his singing, the piece remains as an eloquent, but understated testimony to his spirit and optimism.”

The Terror Pigeon Dance Revolt! - snakebites!
279 plays


The Terror Pigeon Dance Revolt! - snakebites!

Alexi Murdoch - Slow Revolution
6,849 plays


True heroism is minutes, hours, weeks, year upon year of the quiet, precise, judicious exercise of probity and care — with no one there to see or cheer. This is the world.

David Foster Wallace in The Pale King

Song: “Slow Revolution” by Alexi Murdoch

iTunes :: Amazon

I Hate Myself - The Lightning Says
139 plays

I Hate Myself - The Lightning Says


EXPLOSIONS IN THE SKY : The Only Moment We Were Alone (live)

This is that hairs-on-the-back-of-your-neck-standing-up type of amazing. You better watch all the way to the end.

the end’s the best part!


We live in a beautiful world.

Iannis Xenakis, Study for Terretektorh (glissandi), (1965–66)

Iannis Xenakis, 
Study for Terretektorh (glissandi), (1965–66)



A rant about Grizzly Bear and writing with an audience in mind


There’s a good profile of the band Grizzly Bear by Nitsuh Abebe with the headline-as-question: “Grizzly Bear Members Are Indie-Rock Royalty, But What Does That Buy Them in 2012?” Spoiler: not much. Everyone who’s interested in making a living in the music business and what it means to be “big” in the indie scene should give it a read. (I was a little surprised how much their rundown read like Steve Albini’s classic “some of your friends are already this fucked.”)

What’s truly strange to me is how divorced these guys seem to be from the old-school music notion of writing “a hit” — a song that moves units, yes, but also moves asses (and hearts) — while simultaneously being baffled by why their songs aren’t played on the radio.

“I’ve always thought we write pop music,” Ed Droste says. “I think songs of ours could be on the radio. They’re not.”

Having actually listened to their music (I’m in the “suffocatingly fuss[y]” camp), this is baffling to me. 

Austin Kleon on Nitsuh Abebe’s Grizzly Bear profile in New York magazine (featured yesterday on Longreads), and what it means to “write hits.” Some additional background from Abebe here.


Jens Lekman’s SUMMER IN 3/4 TIME mix from 2 years ago is still amazing in case you forgot about it


01 Au Revoir Simone – Shadows (Jens Lekman’s remix)
02 Barbara Mason – Oh How It Hurts
03 Thomas Mapfumo – Madiro
04 The Morning Benders – Excuses
05 Dialogue from Gregory’s Girl (1981)
06 Chad & Jeremy – Everyone’s Gone To The Moon
07 Music and dialogue from Day Of The Locust (1975)
08 Eggstone – Birds In Cages
09 Pete Drake – Forever
10 Armando Mantovani – Around the World
11 Dialogue from Puberty Blues (1981)
12 Jane Morgan & the Troubadours – Fascination
13 Armando Trovajoli – L’Amore Dice Ciao
14 Sharon O’Neill – Puberty Blues
15 Like A Sleepy Blue Ocean (remix of John Denver’s “Annie’s Song”)


Swearin’: Just

This is probably my favorite record of the year. I like the guitar tone, how it’s anchored low enough that it combines with the drums and dispatches these kind of insistent, splaying sub-rhythms. Allison Crutchfield, the singer, is the sister of Katie Crutchfield, who also filmed a video for this series. Katie’s video is more mannered, but in an airy, indefinite way, as in the bodiless manners of ghosts. Initially I think this quality issues from the haunting subtraction of ambient noise, the way that, in this cemetery, in the honeyed overgrowth, there’s no animal disquiet. Instead Katie is surrounded by a voided dome that intensifies her shape. (I’ve found that people appear most human in mindless space.) Her songs usually have a talking cadence to them, speeding carfuls of syllables. This one doesn’t. This one stretches, as if remembering a skin. (Later, while writing this, I listen intently and finally notice the insect chirps, a whole lightly-pieced web of them, that decorate her performance, and, nearer the end, her woe of bugs.)

People describe guitars as “crunchy” a lot but I feel the Swearin’ record is one of the word’s more correct applications. It’s as if a body is being tossed against and through it, settling occasionally between ridges. Otherwise I wonder if my enthusiasm for the record is not an indication of its precise appearance in my life. Big guitar records get bigger, acquire totemic weight when you require that they carry you through your bullshit, which they do. They sail you through privately, as if in an extra dimension, which is considerate of them, when all you feel you have to contribute to the physical world is stupid emotion.