https://open.spotify.com/track/1lcSB66LdrdK78KDq3EjG3?si=af78e90b45cb47fb
Recommended if you like David Bowie’s album Low.
Tag Archives: Bowie
“Klangfarb+++melodie” [2021)
https://open.spotify.com/track/153L2X2UFCSnXUj57kcnEu?si=4596da6e4a38467f
Recommended if you like David Bowie’s album Low.
Introversion [2021)
Teenage Fanclub.
That glow in The World’s End.
But a sadness.
THE sadness.
Emily Dickinson.
Unrequited.
Unattainable.
My Bloody Valentine.
Sloshy grunge hats.
Edge echo.
Chris Bell.
I Am the Cosmos.
Yerself Is Steam.
Slowdive.
Rutti.
Brian Eno.
The disappearance of Madeleine McCann.
Tom Petty.
You don’t know how it feels.
J. Spaceman.
Abbey Road.
Air.
George Martin.
Beck.
Badfinger suicides.
Loser.
Spiritualized.
Royal Albert.
I can only give you everything.
Rick Danko.
Loping.
The Delgados.
Dave Fridmann.
Black magic warded off by honesty.
Good timing.
Divine.
Sigur Rós.
Nigel Godrich.
Pocket symphonies.
Charlotte Gainsbourg.
Serge on the way.
Lenny Bruce, even.
Hit to Death in the Future Head.
Wait at least until track three to break it down.
Southern Harmony and Musical Companion.
Gorecki.
Arvo Pärt.
Deserter’s Songs.
Absolutely.
The confusion of ridiculous counterpoint.
Aaron Copland.
Tonal, yet dissonant.
Thick Billy Corgan.
Siamese Dream.
Definitely a sadness here.
Dawn Upshaw.
Tabula rasa.
Death.
Immense Mellotron.
Tchaikovsky.
Abrupt modulation.
Sugar plum.
Lou Reed.
Ennio Morricone.
Cinema Paradiso.
All you need is hate.
Upstate.
Chaliapin.
Basso profundo.
Jussi Björling.
Dvořák.
Memorial day.
The Inflated Tear.
Columbus, Ohio with duct tape.
Debussy.
Posing with a bass clarinet.
Primal Scream.
Get Duffy.
Rock ferry.
Smokey Robinson.
Sad clown.
Dead clown.
Kinks.
Grasshopper.
Suzanne.
Woodwind quintet.
Did I ever write one?
Yes, I did.
César Franck.
Saint-Saëns.
Organ symphony.
Or is it contrabassoon?
Nadia Boulanger can tell you.
My teacher’s teacher (twice over).
The Left Banke.
LSD.
Herb Alpert?
Hummel.
Handel.
Strawberry fields.
Stereolab.
Unequivocally.
Transient Random-Noise Bursts with Announcements.
A little lo-fi.
Vocal doubled.
Vox continental.
Great hook.
Changes that pull at your heartstrings.
More melancholy.
A fucking marimba solo?!?
Are you kidding me???
Makes sense.
Pauly Deathwish collaboration with Gordon Gano of Violent Femmes.
Lost Bayou Ramblers.
Gordon knew him as Death.
I have become death.
96 Tears.
Farfisa.
Partials.
Tim Gane tone.
Faust IV.
Doogie Howser?
Scary.
Impending.
Suspense.
Rock bass.
Ozzy.
Black Sabbath.
Amazing Grace.
Pete Townshend.
Front.
Back to J. Spaceman.
Dirty ass rock and roll with pristine horns.
Expensive drugs.
Sophisticated changes.
Éminence grise?
Is this the artist we’ve been waiting for?
Rodriguez?
R. Stevie Moore?
Wesley Willis?
Sounds like Jack Nitzsche.
Major Velvet vibes.
Suck-ceed twice.
Dylan with P-bass.
Mick Taylor.
Too much attitude.
Keith Richards.
Let it Come Down.
Shakespeare.
Fucker kicked the bucket.
First to be vaxxed.
Maricopa.
First Suicide album.
Bossa nova.
The Soft Bulletin.
Ladies and Gentlemen We Are Floating in Space.
Gimme some lovin’?
Steve Winwood?
How old?
La Monte Young.
Slow changes.
First rehearsal tapes.
Alan Vega.
Martin Rev.
New York City heroin.
Warhol Factory torn down.
Across from YMCA.
Trump dances.
Great throwaway lyrics.
George Harrison.
Sound of universe.
Spacemen 3.
Savage tone.
Revolution.
Direct into mixing console.
Fried signal.
White album.
Sonic Youth.
Derek Bailey.
Lou ecstacy.
Late Lou.
European son.
Blood pressure rising.
Brutal.
Frankie Teardrop.
I think I’m in love.
Dub bass.
Will the circle remain unbroken?
When I had dinner with Roky.
13th Floor.
First Velvets album.
Heroin.
Drug rush.
Invincible.
But you gotta buy it.
Dirty Baltimore.
Cop shoot cop.
Cheree.
On the jukebox.
Eat at the gas station.
On tour.
First time in Texas.
American Supreme.
Iceland.
13 Angels.
It’s definitely Bowie.
New career.
Same town.
New old.
Old is new again.
Mercury Rev.
Savvy programming.
Dynamics.
Break beat.
A fuck ton of flutes.
Flute loops literally.
Bowie sax.
Little fluffy clouds.
Every drop.
Gay glam chorus.
Tony Visconti.
Don’t underestimate.
Pere Ubu.
First album.
Méliès.
Boys peel out.
Boces.
Inspector Clouseau.
Phone.
French ambulance.
Pants.
Gives me pants.
Videogames.
Cutting hole.
Pink Panther.
Herbert Lom.
A Shot in the Dark.
Grandaddy.
Under the Western Freeway.
Weeping willow.
Under that.
With Sean Mackowiak.
Square waves.
WarGames.
Tympani.
Rollerskate Skinny.
Dublin.
Kevin Shields.
Comes back loud.
One song mastered soft.
Definitely Low.
The main influence of Pauly Deathwish’s debut album.
Honegger.
Pacific 231.
Chariots of fire.
Vangelis.
Such a groove.
Nancarrow.
Polyrhythm.
Immense sadness.
By the side of a freeway.
Under an underpass.
Not like RHCP.
Much darker.
Like Godspeed.
Philip Glass.
Eno.
Blackstar.
How did a Trump supporter make this album?!?
I thought all Trump supporters were redneck morons???
This is way fucking better than Ariel Pink’s dabblings.
This sounds like a debut album.
Songs saved up.
Like The Strokes.
Cinematic as fuck.
Glitch Radiohead.
Trail of Dead.
Makes sense.
Because Pauly wrote the string arrangement on IX.
Dark.
Killers.
Disco compression.
Distressed.
These lyrics!
Johnny Rotten.
Trump 2021.
Snot on the crowd.
Arcade Fire.
Makes sense.
Lost Bayou Ramblers lost sessions.
Montreal studio.
This was all made on an iPhone?!?
Guy Debord.
Aladdin Sane.
Time.
Rick Wakeman?
Olivier Messiaen.
Major 7ths in uppermost range of piano.
Almost indistinguishable from octaves.
Eerie.
Slight.
Only for the sensuous ear.
The Wall.
Waters delayed bass.
No nonsense drums.
Humble Pie reference?!?
Ha!
Great lyrics!!
Predating new Bob Dylan album.
Check SoundCloud timestamp.
This is definitely the QAnon anthem.
This hook should be on a million conspiracy videos.
“10 Days of Darkness”.
Tell ’em Large Marge sent ya!
My end is my beginning is my end.
Grinderman.
No pussy.
Early-’90s.
Nirvana’s wake.
Finnegans Wake.
Great debut album (if I do say so myself).
Usual suspects.
Spotify.
iTunes.
Pauly Deathwish.
-PD
Le Vent d’est [1970)
Film by Godard.
Dziga Vertov.
Group in Mozambique.
Marxist Western.
Cowboys and Indians.
Das Kapital.
No no.
I must be wrong.
Not Mozambique.
That was much later.
I was confused.
So this is just Italy.
But still.
Quite possibly the only Marxist Western ever made 🙂
And, yes: the Dziga Vertov Group.
With Jean-Pierre Gorin.
So here was the great filmmaker (Godard) subsuming himself in the communalism of group creation.
Like being in a rock band.
There might be a main songwriter (or two).
And there might be a lead vocalist.
But it is a group effort.
Rock bands are kinda like little democracies (in my experience).
So, does that mean that communism/socialism starts at its most cellular level as something resembling democracy?
It is an interesting thought.
Because Godard was most certainly a hardcore socialist at this point.
A communist.
A Maoist!
But we remember those strange counterintuitive phrases like “dictatorship of the people”.
In other words, Marxist-Leninist thought was promising popular representation SO POWERFUL that the PEOPLE became a META-DICTATOR.
But it all kinda turned out like Tom Cruise’s witchcraft 🙂
A big bollocks burger in Eastern Europe.
And a Soviet Union that collapsed beneath its own weight.
But China soldiered on.
And juche (North Korea).
Notice that “zhoosh or tjuz” means to “smarten up” or “stylize” in that Cockney code language known as Polari.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Polari
And for my dear pizzagate researchers, you should be heartened by this further corroboration of James Alefantis’ sick mind:
Why do I have a feeling about this?
Because of Bowie’s last album: Blackstar.
But reinserting ourselves in history, it is rather obvious that communism soldiered on mostly in the East.
Let’s not forget Vietnam and Laos (both still communist to this day).
Thus, Wind from the East.
Yes, Peter Wollen, there’s definitely some Brecht in here.
Especially in that scene when a fucking horse finally shows up 🙂
Not much of a Western without a horse.
So there is eventually one horse for Gian Maria Volontè.
Volentè, of course, really WAS in Westerns (about five years previous).
A couple of those great Sergio Leone “spaghetti Westerners” with Clint Eastwood: A Fistful of Dollars and also For a Few Dollars More.
So kudus to Godard, Gorin, and the whole Dziga Vertov Group for getting Volontè.
But really the star is the beautiful redhead Anne Wiazemsky, who passed away just nine days ago.
It is no wonder Godard fell in love with her.
As he had fallen for Anna Karina previously.
But Wiazemsky was a mind.
A beauty, but a total 180 from Karina.
Of course, neither marriage worked out.
But Wiazemsky is lovely in this film.
Indeed, she is one of the few breaths of air in the whole picture.
There are certainly some suffocating scenes.
The opening shot is interminable.
Slight movements.
But eventually things get rolling.
Sorta.
Wiazemsky is splashed with blood as she is repeatedly choked by Volontè.
A bizarre scene.
Also part of this amalgam was Daniel Cohn-Bendit.
I thought I was seeing Mozambique.
It colored everything I was watching.
I was looking out for poisonous snakes.
Godard would eventually make it to Mozambique…later in the 1970s…but I was merely confused.
I mean, here’s a film that until recently was available only as a Japanese DVD (with no English subtitles).
That is the version I watched.
I hear there is another release of this film recently with other of the Dziga Vertov work, but I am happy enough (for the time being) to have seen it as a Frenchman might have in 1970.
My French was tested.
Allors…
This is a rather experimental film.
Perhaps it is no great masterpiece.
But it teaches that we can go backwards or forwards through time by way of cinema.
Forwards with imagination, and backwards in reality.
We were already beyond this point, and yet we have been blessed to return.
To get one step closer.
To close a loop.
Solve a riddle.
Replace a missing stone.
It was a lot of work seeing this film.
That is love.
-PD
paulydeathwish 