Last March Out
Last March Out by krseward
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Thursday, October 22, 2009
posting records to the hinterlands
As I've said, I was a hick from the sticks.
Mark, a friend from high school, was one in a vanguard of people who would turn me on to the wide world of music. Post-punk music in particular.
Aside from his mixtapes bearing the likes of the Velvet Underground, he got me ordering from the Rough Trade Records USA catalog.
Meantime, someone was working in San Francisco, filling those mail orders & posting records to the hinterlands: Hilary, the bicoastal city mouse to us two country mice.
During our summer of discontent back home from college, she was our vinyl connection/muse/friendly crush and all around beacon of cool things happening in the big world.
scans slightly stalinized/click to make bigger . . .
And yes, the grass is always greener, even when the paper is pink . . .
This note probably piggybacked with one of my orders:
By summer's end, it was back to college (& college towns with better record stores).
Maybe for Hilary, too, since the next RT order was sent out by Bill.
Mark, a friend from high school, was one in a vanguard of people who would turn me on to the wide world of music. Post-punk music in particular.
Aside from his mixtapes bearing the likes of the Velvet Underground, he got me ordering from the Rough Trade Records USA catalog.
Meantime, someone was working in San Francisco, filling those mail orders & posting records to the hinterlands: Hilary, the bicoastal city mouse to us two country mice.
During our summer of discontent back home from college, she was our vinyl connection/muse/friendly crush and all around beacon of cool things happening in the big world.
scans slightly stalinized/click to make bigger . . .
And yes, the grass is always greener, even when the paper is pink . . .
This note probably piggybacked with one of my orders:
By summer's end, it was back to college (& college towns with better record stores).
Maybe for Hilary, too, since the next RT order was sent out by Bill.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Dream One, Meat's Meat
Dream One
Meat's Meat
More 12-Bit Jimson found on cassettes of yore. One spooky but arguably soothing, the other creepy in a Modest Proposal sort of way.
Meat's Meat
More 12-Bit Jimson found on cassettes of yore. One spooky but arguably soothing, the other creepy in a Modest Proposal sort of way.
Falling Upward
Falling Upward
This ol' tune is being hosted over at the Internet Archive.
Indeed, tho' it's hard to say for sure, I'm not so certain how long the Ovi hosted stuff (pretty much everything else here) will hold up as things seem in flux over there.
So, if you're just dropping by & have more than a few curious bones in your body, you may want to poke around while the audio players are up and the links are still good . . .
This ol' tune is being hosted over at the Internet Archive.
Indeed, tho' it's hard to say for sure, I'm not so certain how long the Ovi hosted stuff (pretty much everything else here) will hold up as things seem in flux over there.
So, if you're just dropping by & have more than a few curious bones in your body, you may want to poke around while the audio players are up and the links are still good . . .
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Hornets In The Elevator
Hornets In The Elevator
Titles aren't meant to be too literal-minded and are open to broad interpretation (insofar as titles ever bear any relation to the instrumentals named).
But the elevator I've in mind is a grain elevator. A sort of enclosed conveyor belt draws the grain way up only to let it slide down one chute or other to a truck or storage bin.
Taken as a figure of speech, hornets in said gizmo might be like bats in the belfry. Or worse.
And again with the feedback . . .
Titles aren't meant to be too literal-minded and are open to broad interpretation (insofar as titles ever bear any relation to the instrumentals named).
But the elevator I've in mind is a grain elevator. A sort of enclosed conveyor belt draws the grain way up only to let it slide down one chute or other to a truck or storage bin.
Taken as a figure of speech, hornets in said gizmo might be like bats in the belfry. Or worse.
And again with the feedback . . .
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