https://open.spotify.com/track/5vJYL8nbmREbXQG8kcyalU?si=bffcbf38e18c44bb
Recommended if you like Public Image Ltd.
Swan lake.
Tag Archives: experimental
crestfall [2021)
Starts sampledelia.
A story.
The push and pull of clunky electronics.
The goal of fucking up a sound recording to the greatest extent possible.
And then those beautiful strings come in.
Like The Cure.
All cats are grey.
Bass doesn’t drop until two minutes.
Pretty slick.
The Specials.
Ghost town.
Of James Brown pianists.
Federal.
The Bar-Kays.
Soul finger.
Spies like us.
Not so long ago now, seems it?
Have you got your anti-radiation supplements?
Let me help you out on that.
In case your city gets nuked.
And the 300 kiloton warhead doesn’t incinerate you.
Because it was dropped on the other side of town.
Maybe because the missile was old.
Or clunky.
You don’t have to be that accurate with a nuke of that yield.
Now you are battling radiation.
Stay inside as long as possible.
Days.
Weeks.
Months.
Water will soon be contaminated.
But soaking for 30 minutes in a bath of sea salt (one capful [as if it were bath salts]).
Nancarrow.
William S. Burroughs.
Has to be sea salt.
Can’t be table salt.
Pulls the radiation out of your body.
But you’ll need more than that.
Storable drinking water.
Storable food.
Air ok to breathe, but don’t go outside.
Air conditioner filter will remove radioactive particles.
But do not open any windows or doors.
[NB The EMP of the nuclear weapon will fry all electronic devices…so you will not have electricity probably for the next few months (at least). Air conditioner will not be working, but any air that passes through its filter will be cleared of a lot of radioactive particles. Phones will not work. Computers will not work. Internet will not work.]
Avoid yellow dust (nuclear fallout).
Here’s what you need to combat those radioactive isotopes (assuming you and your family didn’t get incinerated as a result of NATO’s insane and incessant eastward push over the past 30 years).
You need iodine.
Yes, potassium iodide is good.
Nascent iodine is probably even better.
But you need something to protect you from iodine-131.
Nascent iodine and/or potassium iodide will do that.
You need potassium.
You’re not gonna be making any trips to the store for bananas (unless you’re a moron).
And there will be no food arriving at any stores for quite some time (an understatement).
Potassium orotate.
Protects you against cesium-137.
You’re gonna need calcium.
Same story as with the bananas.
DO NOT GO OUTSIDE.
You don’t need milk from the store.
There will be none there anyway.
Get some calcium that includes magnesium.
If it has a little zinc in there too, that’s fine.
But you mainly need the calcium to protect you against strontium-90.
The magnesium is gonna help the calcium work better.
You’re gonna need iron.
I’d say probably take for a week or two.
No longer than that.
You need iron to protect against plutonium-239.
And finally, you need some vitamin B12.
This is gonna protect you against cobalt-60.
What a schizo record!
If you wanna bump up the effectiveness of the sea salt bath, add a cup of baking soda each time.
https://www.reboothealth.co.uk/blog/how-to-protect-yourself-from-nuclear-fall-out
Meanwhile, Pauly keeps releasing these albums.
He’s up to 24 albums (369 songs) over the course of the past year.
And we are way behind here at Pauly Deathwish Incorporated in reviewing our own albums.
But this one is pretty good.
Lots of variety.
Some Brazilian.
Hard to review your own albums.
Some might say pointless.
I disagree.
I think it’s pretty cool that this dude has put out so much music in the past year.
Something for everyone.
This is a pretty experimental album.
But has some accessible stuff too.
Dub reggae.
America is fucked!
Russia’s selling oil in rubles now.
Impressive music.
Considering this was all created with little more than an iPhone 7.
Things really start heating up with “H&mmer & Scorec&rd”.
Sophisticated piece.
Gershwin would have dug this.
So would have Penderecki.
Ligeti.
Górecki.
Bizet.
Bernard Herrmann.
A composer should be able to write about their own music.
Should be able to analyze their own music.
This album comes from the era when a Pauly Deathwish album would have 10 songs.
introversion, bucolic, MZFPK, zenith, glitch, drugs, disassemble, 41020…
After 41020, Pauly finally changed things up.
Released a maxi single.
The cover of Sonic Youth’s “Schizophrenia”.
And here he was back to another 10-song album.
crestfall.
These albums are pithy.
They are challenges.
They challenge the audience to figure out what the fuck is going on over the course of a mere 10 songs.
Let’s look at running times:
introversion 48:25
bucolic 39:59
MZFPK 35:49
zenith 48:06
glitch 54:36
drugs 55:01
disassemble 38:38
41020 48:00
crestfall 43:56
Spotify.
iTunes.
-PD
disassemble [2021)
Way behind on Pauly Deathwish.
Right off with XTRMNTR.
Shoot speed.
Kill light.
Spirit of rock and roll.
His most popular track at this time.
Straight rock.
Bad boy.
Drugs flowing through the veins.
Overdose of light.
God is the ultimate drug.
Coming back from depression.
Girlfriend goes on a date with another bloke.
Big depression.
Drugs consume.
Always creative.
From London to Paris.
Vintage keys like French band Air.
Every touch from two tracks imbued with Radiohead experimentation.
Pink Floyd bass.
Waters lives.
Here come the warm jets.
Camera clicking photos.
Virgin suicides.
Tomita.
Amazing groove.
Levon and Robbie Robertson.
Rhythm of the saints.
This bloke has nothing to live for.
His girlfriend is a total fucking bitch.
Alone in the world.
Short circuit.
Trying to overcome.
She don’t give a fuck.
Melancholy.
Info op birthed.
Suicide Girls.
Anti-Antifa.
Bloke has sophistication in attack.
Philosophy.
Wars back started BLM.
Kept powder dry.
Amazing hip hop.
Stevie Wonder.
Shaft.
The Sea and Cake.
Jazzy Jeff.
Fresh Prince.
Young MC.
Stereolab as always.
Trump supporter smart.
Assessment of coup against Deep State.
Progress report.
Situationism.
Velvet Underground.
The balls to review his own albums.
Balls?
Toxic relationship.
Electronic music.
Chemical Brothers.
Dark side of the moon.
Fever dream.
Of the wall.
Oasis.
Noel feeding back.
Liam blowing harp.
Ringo’s son on drums.
Don’t believe the truth.
Soundtrack music.
Hanna.
How she lives now.
Soylent green…2022.
Beastie Boys.
Nigel Godrich as always.
Big Star Third.
Kanga Roo.
As important as the Velvets.
Drug withdrawal.
Big Star early albums.
Chiming.
Like The Byrds.
Phil Spector lives in the glockenspiel.
Lester Bangs lives here.
Lavage.
Many disappointed patriots.
Lamenting the shitty U.S. military.
While honoring the 13.
And Colonel Scheller.
A handful of gems in a culture of shit.
Astrology.
Drag balls.
Berlin.
I love faggots as much as anyone.
David, Lou, Iggy.
Heroes.
God is the only hope.
So I prayed tonight.
Twin peaks.
Nobody loves me.
Keeping real.
Mercury Rev.
See you on the other side.
Rolling the dice.
So long, Charlie.
I’m guessing you got the vaccine.
Poor bastard.
BBC.
AstraZeneca.
Elvis.
Gene Vincent.
Eddie Cochran.
Happy Hairy (?) Hardon Q.
QAnon Christian Slater.
The first of a long succession.
The Verve.
Anthemic melodies befitting Handel.
Air.
Matrix done right.
First song to mention Event 201?
“Follow the White Rabbit”.
Shhh/peaceful.
Very Jefferson Airplane.
Psychedelic march.
Woodstock.
Altamont.
Power to the people.
Pro-Trump psych rock.
Fucking awesome!
AMERICA!!!
Be a rebel.
Kanye poser.
No vaccines, asshole!
Good job.
Adapt.
Drozd.
Great snare work.
Verging on adrenochrome.
Hefner and Monroe.
Sexy dead bodies.
Pay to grind for eternity.
Absolute Flaming Lips.
Transmissions from the satellite heart.
Keith Cleverley.
What is God gonna do for America?
What is America gonna do for God?
Nation falling apart.
Amnesiac.
Hail to the creep.
Rollerskate Skinny.
Darth Vader.
Lloyd Austin.
Scorsese Glass Kundun soundtrack.
Well-done!
Carl Stalling project!
Helmut Lachenmann.
Deserter’s Songs.
Underture.
This is a SOPHISTICATED FUCKING RECORD.
Violent Femmes.
Tom Waits.
Bobby McFerrin.
AUSTRALIA, WAKE UP YOU CUNTS!!!
Invading Sydney!
Give me ANZAC!!
Let’s go!!!
ACK-ACK!!
Fucking awesome return to Bobby Gillespie.
Great fucking song!
“Australia, Here I Come!”
Even uses the comma correctly 🙂
Riot city blues.
“Nitty Gritty”
MC5.
Baby won’t ya?
PERTH!!!
BON SCOTT!!!!
Love and Rockets.
Bitch who dumped me.
How?
By not giving a fuck.
By proxy.
By not participating.
By being a selfish cunt.
Q Team, come in!
How many years?
Second American Revolution.
Miles Davis.
There’s a Riot Goin’ On.
Late-Godard.
Second Pauly Deathwish song to mention Jean-Luc.
Who the fuck is this nigger?!?
Def Leppard.
She’s a fucking black hole.
I take it all back.
A pathetic bleeding vagina.
Money soothes all pains.
Paul Simon.
She’s a loser.
Jack Nitzsche all the way.
Rips your heart out.
Fucking hell.
I will die lonely.
Having given it all away.
Hear the typewriter click.
Are there two people?
Or one?
QAnon stylometric analysis.
Switzerland.
Obvious split in styles.
Who?
Final track.
Primal Scream.
Manchester.
Manchester City.
Gimme the rain, the rain, the rain, the glorious rain!!!!
Luton.
I got close.
Freezing your tits off.
Seeing your breath.
We coming for the sexy bitches.
With stellar boob jobs.
Jazz funk.
Acid.
Trip hop.
Acid house.
World party.
Factory Records above all.
Baggy as fuck.
Gimme them saggy titties.
Real better than fake any day.
Ain’t returning my messages.
Would love that bitch like Cleopatra.
Suck her toes.
Conspiracy theory king and queen.
Blew it several times.
Because heartless bitch usurper.
Same birthday as Lester Bangs and Nostradamus.
Ends with Pocket Symphony.
Everybody hertz.
Ya feel me?
iTunes.
Spotify.
-PD
zenith [2021)
Jesus and Mary Chain.
Black tar.
Caramelized sugar.
A dangerous confection.
Hit to Death in the Future Head.
Summer is here.
I hear.
Vacuum cleaner solo.
Theremin.
Race cars.
Boys peel out.
High-speed boats.
And again with the UPC scan.
Breaking up on reentry.
Serious audio fuckery.
And from this right into kung fu. Peter Sellers on Bowie’s Low. Trance. But really what we have here is excellent counterpoint. Lunatic Harness. Polyrhythms. Album breaks down soon. Fast. Abruptly. Mental block regarding Wuhan origin. Harmonic outline you would never find in China. Terry Riley. A Rainbow in Curved Air. Eno. Visconti. And the others involved. A beauty that inspired Philip Glass. This is what we have. Low and heroes. Symphonies. Glass. Riley. Minimalism. Album called zenith. Track two already hits “Nadir”. What’s the arc here? Arc-en-ciel? Arkansas? Immediately pensive. Very unnerving. Pop rock track. Into existential oblivion. Abrupt modulation. Uncomfortable. Eccentric. Was there a thought process behind this? Commerce ruins everything. Imperfect masterpieces. The rules of the game. Radiohead. Joseph Arthur? Sparklehorse. The Magnetic Fields. Gay baritone. Sad sack confessional poetry in the world of Berryman’s Dream Songs. Brian Jonestown Massacre. The Verve. Strung out in heaven. J. Spaceman shooting up while praying. Don’t knock it… Drug addiction is real. Mental problems are real. Here we are. 2020 fucked us up. And now we wait for the next shoe to drop. Smashing Pumpkins. “Silver Fuck”? Into Sonny Rollins? Epstein. Gene Ammons. Hard to tell it’s (not) real. Which parts? Yes. No. Fooling the ear with Dave Fridmann. A totally schizophrenic record so far. Here we go! “Belgian Lace, Pale Black Mascara…” This is more like it. Rollerskate Skinny. Martin Rev. Lots of counterpoint here. Fux me up. Disney xylophones. Internal rhyme-sanity. Dylan puking up brilliance. Always Roger Waters with the bass. Always The Wall. Pompeii. Hail to the Thief. Again and again. Trying to break new ground. And it does. Yerself is Steam. Album starts to make sense after five tracks. 1 & 5. This is not bullshit. I don’t know about the jazz. I don’t know about the monotonous instrumentals. Absolutely “Car Wash Hair”. Suzanne Thorpe would be proud. Seems to be talking about tits. A good ride. Drum machine chugging away. Can still have a good groove. Wild Acoustic Chamber Orchestra. W.A.C.O. Woodwinds and glockenspiel. Boces. What the fuck is this shit? O.K. computer. Sounds like some QAnon stuff. I feel Carlos Santana coming on. This is what Assange jams out to. Lots of plays at Fort Meade. Salsa. James Brown. Puerto Rican funk. As AOC goes to jail. Serious national security issues for lyrics. Fictional charges? Tracers everywhere. This theory involves an actual conspiracy. Criminal conspiracy outlined. By players. Event 201. Short circuit. Johnny 5 is alive. Legalistic funk. QAnon wet dream. FISAgate. “Spy Gate”. Somebody send this to Sean Hannity. Obamagate. Where is John Durham? Ryan Dark White knows the truth about Rosenstein. How many coup attempts by the Left? Back to Billy Corgan. Ok, so we have an Alex Jones connection. Early-’90s goodness. Butch Vig. Dream pop. James Iha. Bet this guy knows the real story about the Standard Hotel(s). Great lyrics! Must be some inside jokes here. But HOLY FUCK! He nailed the “Holes” trumpet solo. Deserter’s Songs. God damn it. How did they do this? The liner notes say Pauly Deathwish has also produced all four of these albums. Kind of a Jimmy Page thing going on. Great drum sound. Yo La Tengo. “Mayonnaise”. Siamese Dream. Benjamin Britten reference? Slick! So this guy basically had a music education on par with Jack Nitzsche. And then went for scumbag rockroll like Phil Spector. Gotta respect this weird marriage. This fascination with grunge. Dinge. And the facility to clean it up like a chandelier. Very fucking impressive. No record label. Kinda sounds like no funding. No budget. The Delgados. Hate. The Great Eastern. More Spiritualized telephony. The Wall. Which is to say, Bob Erzin. And as dark as Berlin. Which is to say, Bob Ezrin. Neil Young vibe. Tonight’s the Night. Some dark-ass shit. Nick Kent, where y@t? IV Thieves. Coulda done this. What if Chris “Frenchie” Smith had produced this? This kid like a protege. I hear the moniker (stage name) was bestowed by Frenchie Smith. Strings good. Eastern European orchestra. Must have cost a small fortune. Arcade Fire. French cinema. Romantic-era harmony. But pierced. Sophisticated. Absolutely Floyd. “In The Flesh”. Last track on Harvest. Words between the lines. The promise of the ’60s went to shit in the ’70s. Where’s QAnon? Where’s Nakasone? Where’s CYBERCOM? Keith Alexander on Amazon board. Velvet Underground feeding back. Les Rallizes Denudes. Primal Scream. “Swastika Eyes”. ADAT. DAT machine. Sampling. Stereolab. Back to another standout track. “Chaconne”. Will Smith in the summertime. Some slick shit. Messiaen. Jonny Greenwood. Lyrics world-class. All those sand paintings. Write and destroy. Suicide girls. Thom Yorke’s brain doesn’t have this facility. He’s a great stylist. Definitely an homage. And to Godard. Snow white and psycho. Heavy shit for Laetitia Sadier and Tim Gane to check out. Not far from Faust IV. So sweet. John Paul Jones. Ramble on. Charlotte Gainsbourg. Keren Ann. Last track noisy as fuck. Lo-fi. Tom Waits. Sticks together. Some sad shit. Music from Big Pink. Mournful trombone(s). John Simon. “Bird on a Wire”. They don’t make records like this anymore. David Bowie not dead. Great phrasing. Sinatra. Mark Linkous. It’s a Wonderful Life. Believable bass. Upright citizen. Bayou curious. Noise floor drops out. Some perverse humor here. An “album”. It is. Ten songs. Ten different directions. Some tracks stick together. Like a deck of cards shuffled. Lots of variety. Circus peanuts. The orange ones. Pure sugar. Chewy. Strange texture. Lots of melancholy here. What’s this bloke so sad about? Tell Thurston Moore. You gotta hear this shit. Pauly Deathwish’s 4th album (this summer!). Is this guy trying to set a Guinness record or something? And he already has a 5th one out. Christ!
-PD
MZFPK [2021)
Breakfast cereal video game.
Pauly Deathwish’s 3rd album.
I am behind.
I can’t keep up with this guy.
Out of the gates like Flaming Lips.
30,000 feel of despair.
The gash.
Right into Isao Tomita.
Doing Debussy.
Marching.
Martial.
Fantastic noises.
Like first Stereolab album.
Here Come the Warm Jets.
Cheyenne Mountain jams.
I can no longer see what I’m typing.
- What if I type in white? Ahh, yes. That does the trick. But it ruins my style. Louis-Ferdinand would not be happy. Totally Air. Pocket Symphony. Who is Kevin? Shields? Ayers? Fairlight. Synth clouds. Rich chords. Very sophisticated harmonies and arrangements. Cornelius from Japan. This sounds very modern. OH FUCK! Groove is in the motherfucking heart. Vogue! So on track two, we are straight up on a catwalk. But it could be Alan Vega or Martin Rev. Kinda Sun City Girls. Zoviet France. Fridmann never gets this crazy with bass. Wayne is driving it weirder. This was, from what I hear, done with ZERO budget. Is this a dance album? First you have poetry. Then you are prose. Amateurs. Into Odelay. That was a good drum break. The Strokes. Fuzzy vocals. Paliament/Funkadelic. Sly Stone! Later Stereolab. Tim Gane processing. Counter melody! For fuck’s sake. Somebody listen to this bloke. Whoa. What is up with this chorus? Roland Kirk? Like in Switzerland? Definitely hitting some Os Mutantes twee. Lo-fi as fuck. Great Godard tongue in cheek. Apparently about Neil Young and Rick James being in a band together when they were young and still in Canada. Yonge Street? Beats. Drake needs to hear this. Bit crusher lisp. Spiritualized at the grocery store. Swipe barcode. Song peaks at end. Masterful mix. A true climax. Savage mastering on every album. Whole mix jumps. It works. Needle skipping. American Supreme. Claustrophobic. COVID. Sad. Scared. Apocalyptic. The concept of the gaze in cinema. Bass drops in. Feel it in your sex organs. A sexy song. “Cobra Strike”. This is unequivocally a dance album. EDM all up in here. Lots of panning. Spliff it. Micro gestures. Pandemic planning. How long will it last? Soul-crushing. Zombie metaphor. Shaun of the Dead. Masterpiece. Beatle drums. First Velvets album. Rat trails. “Black Angel’s Death Song”. “The New Pollution”. Dr. No. Walther PPK. What does this kid know? He can’t possibly know, can he? Pure phase. Visconti. Lanois. Acid jazz. Nick Cave. Montage, mon beau souci. Flaming Lips. Jeff Tweedy drawl. Jesus and Mary Chain team up with The Cure. Disintegration. Heartbreak here. Who broke his heart? Bleeps and bloops. Robot noises. Heartbeeps. Jazz funk ’70s experimental upright. Great lyrics. Superimposition. Steenbeck! Fucking great lyrics on “Snip Snip”. Oh, damn. Glockenspiel at just the right time! Icy. Air. Virgin suicides. Dazed and confused. Blonde. Braids. Like glazed bread. German. Texas. Floating world. Old world. No one to smoke a doobie with and stare up at green trees. No tits. What is wrong with this world? Rambo. Fort Bragg. Delta. Boykin. Intelligence Support Activity. Send me. George Crumb. Black angels. Jungle echoes. 4thPOG. Ghosts. PSYWAR op. Make it loud. Romeo foxtrot. Shall we dance? Charlie don’t surf. Death on the dance floor. Public Image Ltd. Modes of limited transposition. Messiaen. Primal Scream. Standing with Johnny Rotten. #Trump2021 . But this is more about big tits. Giant opals. Garth Hudson. Telegraph. Total loss. Persona non grata. Window still missing. Swastika eyes. Paul Weller. XTRMNTR. Shoot speed. Kill light. Eyes owned 2020. The ugly had a chance. Masks work…if you’re ugly and need to get laid. Back with another block rocking’ beat. Private psychedelic reel. War metaphor. Is this about election? No. Too early. Look at liner notes. Living in COVID times was like a world war. War just beginning? Got my pina colada. Fuck it! Arizona. Living boldly. Masks have lost. Two weeks. Could have been a contender. Circuit bending. Talking about big titty schizophrenic. All footwork ruined. Toys. Falling apart gremlin workmanship. Awkward line about Thora Birch. Explicit warnings a little lazy. Getting a bit Lenny Bruce up in here. Russ Meyer. Second line. Double time. Crazy drums. Smooth as Sade. Tambourine is the star. One organic element. Wrote a song. She didn’t care. Wrote her 200 songs. She didn’t care. One has zero plays globally. She never bothered listening to it. Some things not meant to be. Liberals and conservatives. Go and create. Lobster. Work wasn’t. Bought her every flower imaginable. Thousands of dollars on flowers. Yoshimi laser warfare. A piano not standard. Some Tori Amos bullshit. Arturo Benedetti Michelangeli. Only the finest pianos. Internationally famous. Neither deserve it. Pulled the plug at the wrong time. Would he have still kept the same track listing? Maybe so. Heartbreak to rehash. Goes by quick. Good drum programming. James Bond future theme. Brian Wilson. Phil Spector. Absolute Nigel Godrich. Cinematic. The album that never was. But this one is worldwide, motherfuckers. Third this summer. And a fourth already out. I can hardly keep up. I need to review movies. Doesn’t Pauly Deathwish know I don’t have time for Galaga? Falling apart. Short-circuit. Charlotte Gainsbourg. Flashback to Bucolic.
- -PD
bucolic [2021)
It starts just like Charlotte Gainsbourg.
5:55.
Air.
Nigel Godrich.
But there is something different.
A shruti box?
A little distorto guitar.
Ah, yes.
Chuchotements.
Françoise Hardy.
A little Yo La Tengo.
Built to Spill.
Guitar carries it for a second.
Good lyrics.
All mood.
And then into an Amon Düül II warble.
Like Marc Bolan.
Jim Carrey.
Most annoying sound in the world.
Into Pink Floyd.
David Gilmour.
Circa The Wall.
Strange sadness.
Almost a premonition of impending doom.
Calm before the storm.
J. Spaceman telephony.
Floating with no highs and no lows.
All mids.
Strong opening track.
Very slow-moving.
Luxurious.
Immediate Delgados shift.
Paul Savage.
Pauly Deathwish.
Glasgow effect.
Great counterpoint for a pop musician.
But if you check this bloke’s CV…
You’ll know he went through Fux.
Gonna have to say Elliott Smith.
Gorky’s Zygotic Mynci.
Megan Childs violin.
Around the warm fire.
Welsh.
Expansive.
Strings open up.
Hate.
More Fridmann.
Pointillism.
Schoenberg.
Timbre.
Richard James.
GZM.
Beethoven.
Another Welshman.
John Cale.
Orchestral bass that Lou loved.
This guy’s a bastard.
Jaded.
Hurt.
Is this a breakup album?
I thought the last one was a breakup album?
Ahhh…
Into Gorwel Owen.
1968.
Floyd.
Atom.
Mad cow.
The last GZM album.
Rockfield.
Bohemian.
String band.
Money never runs out.
Cheap air organ.
Tubes?
Fan.
A very apropos album title.
Woody.
Tobacco.
Spring water Scotch.
And then the Great Reset arrives.
Like a fucking spaceship.
Dark shit.
What is this glitch business?
Thom Yorke blasts upon the scene.
Drums James Brown.
Good groove.
Savvy.
Whoa!
Marching band.
Drumline.
Snares.
Caught by Lee “Scratch”.
Guitar all mangled.
Melodies solid.
Mogwai?
Bert Jansch out of fucking nowhere.
Definitely Lips.
Pet Sounds.
Track rejected by Bond franchise.
Convincing.
Acoustic to electric.
Now it’s Serge.
Requiem.
Stereolab.
Break beat.
Absolutely boffo.
BOF.
More Brian Wilson.
Van Dyke Parks.
Phil Spector.
High Llamas.
Still a sadness.
That the old world is passing away.
FUCK!!!
Right into some Leonard Cohen shit!
Scott Walker.
How the FUCK was this recorded?
Sounds like 2″ tape.
Question:
how has this Pauly Deathwish released three albums in two months?
I can’t even keep up with this guy.
Mercury Rev.
Deserter’s Songs.
Levon Helm.
Chamberlin.
Mellotron?
Like a Christmas album.
See You on the Other Side.
David Fricke.
A review in the liner notes.
“Everlasting Arm”.
Definite vibe.
Record pillaging wizard.
Baritone.
Lots of fucking glockenspiel on this record.
But it’s nice.
Like Ennio Morricone.
Cinema Paradiso.
Mandolins.
Jackie Gleason.
Dean Martin.
Herb Alpert.
Tchaikovsky.
Again with sugar plum.
Slick!
Very light.
Chiaroscuro.
Fresher than the sweetness in water.
Hearing Dungen.
IV Thieves.
Makes sense.
“Frenchie” Smith.
Dig CV.
Light, British, airy.
Good hook.
Hooky.
Is this the single?
A little neo-psych Hendrix moment.
It’s definitely GZM.
Repetition until transcend.
Stereolab first album.
Not looped.
Manuel.
Carpenters.
Messiaen.
Definitely some breakup here.
Sonic Youth.
Sister.
Experimental.
Thurston.
Lots of drum machine.
Drum and bass.
Panning.
Definitely holds up with Radiohead.
How the fuck was this made?
PD tells us that it was all made on an iPhone with only a Telecaster.
That is some serious trickery.
Ear fooling.
This is COMPLEX music.
Mixes sound polished.
Clarity.
Some Chinese stuff.
Noise floor fucked for the first time ever.
Bacon?
Rollerskate Skinny.
It’s THAT good.
Shoulder Voices.
How was this made?
This heralds a new talent.
But this bloke is 44.
Tour sponsored by Ensure.
Not hearing a sophomore slump here.
Two albums in two months.
Review third forthcoming.
This dude is emo as fuck.
I dig it.
This guy is a mystery.
What is his deal?
This sounds more like a cohesive album that Introversion.
Introversion sounds like a debut album…in all the best ways.
Songs saved up.
A greatest hits.
Go big or go home.
This album deals much more in subtlety.
Not every song here is a home run.
This album breathes.
Ambiance.
Negative space.
More Beach Boys vibes.
70s.
Sad.
Bathrobe.
But mentally sharp.
A spark of genius.
A little bluegrass.
Bill Monroe.
Dock Boggs.
The old world is passing away.
Jonny Greenwood.
Georges Bizet.
Live forever.
Nonesuch.
Elektra.
Hoyt Ming.
Incredible String Band.
Wales, Scotland.
Back and forth.
And across to Ireland.
Oh, no.
There’s the single.
“Makes Me Wanna Stay in Bed”.
Emma Pollock.
Hate is all you need.
Coming in from the cold.
New Radicals.
Delayed bass from The Wall.
Pavement.
Spoon.
Good fucking song!
Eisteddfod.
All Is Dream.
Hard following up.
Unenviable.
Emma Pollock solo.
With Alun Woodward singing.
The Great Eastern.
New Spiritualized.
Banjo.
Let It Come Down.
Abbey Road.
Coldplay.
A Rush of Blood to the Head.
This bloke is serious as fuck.
Sad eyes.
I’m sensing a Jandek promotional strategy.
Final track Richter.
Ravel.
Emperor.
Philip Glass.
Conlon Nancarrow.
City/country dichotomy.
Urban/rural.
Urban encroaching.
Something felt.
Big symphony night.
Excitement of New York Phil.
The fucking french horns!
Automation.
A story in dynamics.
Lesson.
A folk album.
bucolic.
Pauly Deathwish.
iTunes.
Spotify.
-PD
Histoire(s) du cinéma {Chapter 1(b): Une Histoire seule} [1989]
“And Gauguin, he buggered off, man, and went all tropical.”
Sang Nick Cave.
On the brilliant song “There She Goes, My Beautiful World”.
And our world is going to shit.
Fast.
So let’s get some answers, shall we?
Event 201.
10/10/19.
Coronavirus.
Bats.
http://www.centerforhealthsecurity.org/event201/scenario.html
“The pathogen and the disease it causes are modeled largely on SARS, but it is more transmissible in the community setting by people with mild symptoms.”
Sound familiar?
Players.
War gaming.
Avril Haines.
Former Deputy Director of the CIA.
Instead of CNN, Event 201 came up with a fake news channel called GNN which supplemented the reality of its war game.
Go to 1’17” in video.
Correlation does not necessarily imply causation, but consider the following:
A. The Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation helps put on the Event 201 coronavirus simulation on October 10, 2019
B. Bill Gates leaves the boards of directors of Berkshire Hathaway [Warren Buffett] and Microsoft on March 13, 2020
C. 94 of the 154 coronavirus deaths in the U.S. as of March 20, 2020 were in Washington State [specifically in the King County (Seattle) area]: Bill Gates’ home
Bill Gates’ father was the former head of Planned Parenthood.
The Gates Foundation gave $82 million to Planned Parenthood organizations over the years 2009-2015.
The Event 201 bat coronavirus simulation in NYC on 10/19/19 was cosponsored by the World Economic Forum.
Among its board members is Al Gore.
https://www.weforum.org/about/leadership-and-governance
Also among its board members is Queen Rania of Jordan.
If you look at the Twitter account of John Podesta (Hillary Clinton’s 2016 campaign chairman), you will find that the first person he followed on Twitter was Queen Rania.
Why?
Also on the World Economic Forum board is David M. Rubenstein of the Carlyle Group.
The Carlyle Group has a close connection to the Bush family.
On the morning of 9/11/01, the Carlyle Group was meeting in Washington, D.C.
Who was at that meeting?
Dig!
“Event 201 was supported by funding from the Open Philanthropy Project.”
http://www.centerforhealthsecurity.org/event201/about
What is the Open Philanthropy Project?
Who runs it?
One of the founders of Facebook (and his wife).
Dustin Moskovitz (the person in question) donated $20 million to Hillary Clinton’s campaign. He was the third-largest donor in the 2016 campaigns.
http://www.cnn.com/2016/09/09/politics/facebook-cofounder-gift-democrats
Melinda Gates is on the board of The Washington Post.
melinda-french-gates-elected-director-washington-post-company
Bill Gates has attended the Bilderberg Meetings.
bilderberg-group-conspiracy-theories-secret-societies-new-world-order-alex-jones-a8377171.html
Both Bill and Melinda Gates were considered by Hillary Clinton staffers as possible running mates for her 2016 run.
https://time.com/4534899/hillary-clinton-wikileaks-running-mates/
Are you seeing a theme here?
This amazingly prescient Event 201 which had a scenario (see above link) that mirrors the present coronavirus outbreak almost exactly (transmission of a coronavirus from bats to humans…misunderstanding of community spread dynamics owing to mistaken comparison to SARS) was headed and funded almost entirely by left-wing, globalist people who support the Democratic Party in the United States. The only “foil” might be the Carlyle Group presence on WEF’s board (a connection to the equally-globalist, anti-Trump Bush family).
The Clintons and the Bushes. Lots of money. Unequivocally anti-Trump. And they just happen to run a coronavirus simulation a few months BEFORE the current outbreak even began in China.
Cui bono?
Bill Gates has plenty of money.
He can withstand the shock to his personal bank account.
The Democrats (and Marxist globalists) were unable to impeach Trump. Before that, they were unable to have Robert Mueller (former FBI Director) bring down Trump for “colluding” with Russia in the 2016 election.
So what did they have left in their effort to unseat the populist Trump?
Were they backed into a corner?
Was their collective corruption about to come to light?
Perhaps they played their last card: attempt to destroy the U.S. economy with a pandemic PSYOP.
An average of 25,000 American die every year from the flu, but we don’t close the whole country down.
In 2017-2018, the CDC estimates that 61,000 Americans died from the flu.
Finally, how did a Johns Hopkins website become the end-all/be-all source for global and American coronavirus statistics? Why was Johns Hopkins working with the Gates Foundation for the 10/19/19 bat coronavirus simulation Event 201 in NYC? Has the simulation now become “real”?
Which brings us back to Gauguin…and Godard.
And part two of the greatest film ever made (in my opinion).
Histoire(s) du cinéma.
Godard contends in this 42 minute segment that cinema (the movie industry) is really a part of the cosmetics industry.
Everything is masked (and anonymous).
All is façade.
Godard further excoriates Hollywood by calling it a minor branch of the industry of lies.
Quite a humorous and pithy insult.
And self-deprecating.
It is true that Godard was an avowed Marxist.
A Leninist.
And even a Maoist.
And so it’s no surprise that he references Bertolt Brecht.
But Godard was, at this point in his career, becoming less of a radical (politically) and more of a humanist.
He was mellowing as a political firebrand.
But he was hitting his apex of creative experimentation.
I must admit.
This section is not the strongest of his eight-part masterpiece.
Section one Toutes les histoires is a tour de force.
But section two, Une Histoire seule, is a bit of a sophomore slump.
Or a lull.
A composer cannot maintain a fever-pitch indefinitely.
The great auteur got our attention in the first section.
And then he eases up.
He played the “head” (as in jazz).
And now he is beginning to improvise.
At first, he loosely pounds out the melody à la Thelonious Monk.
It sounds like more of the same.
And it is.
But it’s subtle.
It is a creator pondering his own creation.
“What have I just created?”
He turns it over and surveys it.
He feels its dimensions.
He tosses it and catches it like a baseball.
He estimates its weight.
The greatest movie ever made, Histoire(s) du cinéma, is not a movie in the strictest sense of the word.
It is not a narrative film per se.
There is very little NEW footage within.
Just like James Joyce’s magnum opus Finnegans Wake, it is not a novel.
It is much closer to poetry.
But it is novel (adj.).
This is a film review.
-PD
paulydeathwish 