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

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

Vampyr [1932)

I come to you from the darkest place.

Where all hope has been extinguished.

A maze of study and revelation.

Barely a word here spoken.

Do not give me your attention.

I am not the first person.

You wander in this dream.

He comes to know the horror.

Her and her alone.

Climb climb climb from the mist of history.

Give up your secrets to the light.

Vampyr, Kryptos, Tutankhamun.

IQLUSION.  1Q84.

gravity’s rainbow.  CERN.

In a Glass Darkly.  Published in Ireland.  1872.

Sheridan Le Fanu.  Dublin.

Does Langley know about this?

Always candles.  Always lighting candles.

NYPVTT.  Berlin.

Nicolas de Gunzberg as Julian West as Allan Gray.  Got it?

MZFPK.  We’re losing time quickly.

At an even pace.

Speeding towards the hour.

As slowly as we’ve ever been.

William H. Webster.  The only person to have ever headed both the CIA and the FBI.

Courtempierre.  Loiret.

Ah!  The review…

As if waking from a dream.

Or falling back into a nightmare.

Placing one foot in front of the other.

Rena Mandel could have come straight from Nosferatu.

Like Greta Schröder.  1922.  1932.

Not flapper like Frances Dade.  Blonde on blonde.  Helen Chandler.

UFA wanted Dracula to come out first.

A strange tactic.

And then utter failure.

But Sybille Schmitz has that Nazi jawline.  Like Leni Riefenstahl.

Spoonsful of tea for a dying man.

Candles peer in through the glass.

And the camera stares upwards…at the swaying trees.

It is like Nobody Died at Sandy Hook.

To be opened after my death.

Sealed in wax thrice.

Submission is the only slow number.

Mid-tempo.  A revelation.  Talisman.

A crooked doctor.  And you’re giving blood.

They’re putting you on statins.

The drug companies will pay.  And general practitioners will have impunity whoring for big pharma.

A view to a kill.

Berlin.  Surrounded by East Germany.

Mengenlehreuhr.  Yale.

Ooga booga.

Buried alive in the blues.

Come spend a life in Texas.

With no one.

Come be abandoned in Texas.

Not even on the island.

Information warfare.

He is getting his message out desperately.

Franz Liszt as Marguerite Chopin.

No comment from Gounod.

Walpurgisnacht.

Nerval translated 1828.

Gretchen.  Margaret.  Marguerite.

Ettersberg.  Buchenwald.

We see why Godard became suspicious.

Because all but the Dutch declined Resnais’ solicitation for holocaust footage.

Inside the camps.

During the war.

By the most technologically-advanced civilization in terms of film production.

Obsessive-compulsive documenters of expenditures.

The problem with the gas chambers.

Sybille Schmitz looks like a raving lunatic.

The ecstasy of Stockholm syndrome.  A bank.  Those doe eyes and bearded hippie among the safe-deposit boxes.

The Goethe Oak at Buchenwald.  THE Goethe Oak?  George Washington slept here.

The Goethe Oak bombed by the Allies.

Now a concrete stump thanks to the DDR.

Goethe Eiche.

Janus-faced Germany.  Januskopfes Deutschland.  Sounds like a load of rubbish to me.

Schiller’s beech tree didn’t bite the dust till 2007.

Death by flour.

I’ll say it again:  Wikipedia’s masterpiece.  “List of unusual deaths”.

 

-PD