"The sound of people moaning about ceremonial robes not being colourfast"
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This is a repository of the astute, mischievous, blase, rat-infested, paranoiac, half-baked, half-arsed, beatific, mendacious, sorry-owled, frivolous, crepuscular, moon-addled, canny, circumspect, broked-limbed, supercilious, sanguine and blown-fused critical comments from the wives and girlfriends of your favourite, self-esteemed, male cultural critics and bloggers. Inspired by a throwaway comment that perfectly encapsulated the life-work of David Bowie - "Murgh, murgh, murgh; I live on Mars" - this attempts to find the real truth behind the multiple metaphors and verbal pile-ups of the blogging world and keeps begging the question: "How much of the incandescent NOW will be remembered in the clip-shows of the future?"
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October
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- Current 93 - Nature Unveiled
- Doctor Who
- Nick Cave - From Her To Eternity
- Sudden Infant - Ear Wash
- Stockhausen - Stimmung
- The Teachings of Don Juan - Carlos Castaneda
- Misanthropic?... I'm not misanthropic!.... I put u...
- Nurse with Wound - Paranoia In Hifi
- George Crumb - Makrokosmos
- Gong - Camembert Electrique
- Venetian Snares - Rossz Csillag Alatt Született
- Simon Fisher Turner - The Garden
- Anemonengurt - Wo Die Ebenen Geglattet Sind
- Throbbing Gristle - 20 Jazz Funk Greats
- His Name is Alive - Dirt Eaters EP
- Amorphous Androgynous - Monstrous (etc) 2
- Non - God Beast
- Current 93 - Aleph at Hallucinatory Mountain
- Etant Donnes - Bleu
- Thighpaulsandra - I Thighpaulsandra
- Current 93 - Of Ruine Or Some Blazing Starre
- Tortoise - Millions Now Living...
- Crass - Feeding Of The 5000
- Autechre - Quaristice
- Whitehouse - Dedicated To Peter Kurten
- Union Jack - Pylon Pigs
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October
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many of these are quite accurate reviews, in fact. maybe male self-esteemed critics should write a little more like this, you know? instead of lacanhauntologising us all to death or whatever.
ReplyDeletex
well, that was kinda the point of this... if there was no level of truth this it'd be a tragedy...
ReplyDeleteand while i've probably done my odd share of lacanhauntologising in the past (and will continue into the everpresent), it's not without a certain sense that perhaps the emperor really DOESN'T have any clothes...