Ein kleines Gutenachtliedchen

heute morgen als ich das tor aufgemacht habe, kam eine mutter mit ihrem ca. dreijährigen sohn den bürgersteig entlang. sie wollten zur zwergenburg im übernächsten haus. der junge guckte mich mit großen augen an. die beiden gingen vorbei, standen aber immer noch da als ich den wagen vorgefahren hatte. der junge wollte nicht weitergehen. für einen moment dachte ich, der sucht seinen vater. die mutter redete ihm zu, endlich weiterzugehen. er wollte nicht. war entweder von mir oder dem auto so fasziniert, dass er anwurzelte. ich glaube es war das auto. was ich ja auch mag. eine längliche dunkelgrüne kutsche. mal sehen, ob er morgen wieder da steht.

P.S. I just saw that A Love Supreme was from 1965 like Ascension. Sorry for that. I wouldn't have chosen it anyways.

Lyrics

Nonalignment Pact Pere Ubu start their debut LP with a shrill ringing feedback sound on the right channel. A couple of staid soothing bass guitar notes form the melodic antithesis to that noise and are then followed by a pushing rockabilly guitar riff on the left channel. The avantgarde meets garage punk via impressionism. When David Thomas unique high-pitch nasal voice joins in just after the feedback turns into the whinnying of horses which are about to be set free things get psyched out.

The Modern Dance On the propulsive trippy title track Thomas bleats the words at the end. In the background Tom Herman, the guitarist sings Merdre, Merdre. The word that almost started a riot at the beginning of the premiere of Alfred Jarry's Ubu Roi in 1896. And then the music halts and we suddenly find ourselves within a group of people whispering, talking and laughing. It could have been like that when King Ubu first saw the light of day in Paris.

Laughing The first two minutes have got a very relaxed almost folkish feel due to David Thomas musette which sounds a little like a Scottish bagpipe. There is also a jazzy vibe here with the saxophone free-style play. After Thomas vocals come in the song morphs into something entirely different though. He sings on shooting and/or laughing at the devil. This song reminds me a lot of Jeffrey Lee Pierce. A devil who has had his last dance some time ago.

Street Waves I hear Lou Reed's cool guitar (or was it Sterling Morrison's) from the golden times of the Velvet Underground. But there is also Maimone's dubby bass which is beautifully underlined by Ravenstine's synthesized storm sounds. This is the new age.

Chinese Radiation Not sure if this is a song about the promised land of communism. The red guard, the red book, the big wall and the new world seem to point into that direction. Musically it is quite listener-friendly and almost catchy. It starts slowly with the laid-back guitar riff, then there are some nice otherworldly synthesizer sounds and the bass giving the song more weight. David Thomas voice is that of a drunken hippo. After the accelerating middle part with the live atmosphere and the Hooray shouts the piano finishes this song off on a slow and grave note.

Life Stinks A leftover song from Rocket From The Tombs, the blues rock meets punk outfit heavily influenced by the Stooges which preceded Pere Ubu. It is by Peter Laughner who had already died when TMD was recorded. A simple riff and typical punk throwaway lyrics. This version is much subtler than the original.

Real World A great start with what I hear as the horns of a ship which arrives in a harbour. The chorus I don't like too much. Too stomping or something. What Pere Ubu build around it is fascinating though. A little bit of a mess but a very controlled mess. The real world finishes with bells and a forced laughter.

Over My Head Thomas whispers on this one. A spooky track which never rocks out. The line "And how I pray that I never should sin again" fits quite well. Something is going on here which cannot be proven by science.

Sentimental Journey I think this is the longest song on the album. Lots of people don't like it. It is meandering along after the glass bottles have been smashed on the floor. I love it. It has got that improvised performance feel. "Window. My size." That should give a lot of light.

Humor Me A reggae is about as good to end an album as a joint is to finish a day. Relax and smile. Even if you don't get the joke. The funniest ones are the ones without a punchline anyway.

Further reading: Vinyl Mine on The Modern Dance

Here is the overview of the series 40 years, 40 albums of which part XXXVII was this post.

for the new Boards of Canada album The Campfire Headphase which will come out on October, 17th.

• In the Pitchfork interview Marcus Eoin and Mike Sanderson reveal that they are brothers. Slightly less surprising is their love for the Cocteau Twins. The interviewer compares the new disc which includes some guitar treatments to My Bloody Valentine's Loveless. Of course they feel flattered.
• Over at so totally, the selector, XYZ, a rarity from their Peel Session which starts with the trademark BoC sound but evolves into something more experimental with electronic beats and clicks.
• Finally last night an mp3 saved my wife is so generous to offer us '84 Pontiac Dream as a taster for the new release. A nostalgic, awesome piece to which childhood memories (read the post) impose themselves.

After twenty-four days of work in a row Catherine invited me to go out for some live music. I didn't expect anything from the Welsh part of the Velvet Underground. The last record I bought and listened to by him was Music for a New Society which I saw him touring for more than twenty years ago in the Bochumer Fabrik. I was disappointed at the time. The concert was a little bit too bittersweet and opera-like but okay. The expectations were too high though.

When I arrived at the Mousonturm I had to smoke a cigarette before entering the hall. Smoking was prohibited inside. That reminded me of something I heard about John Cale on the radio a while ago. He was producing a band which was taking drugs all the time. I think it was the Happy Mondays. And he didn't allow them any drugs when they were recording in the studio. No ecstasy, no spliffs, not even a beer. What a tyrant!

In the beginning we were next to the speakers and the music coming out of them was some distorted viola stuff. I bet it was him. Then the band arrived on stage, John took his viola and they played the only song I recognised immediately tonight. It was Venus in Furs. Cold shivers were running down my spine. It was totally unreal. As if the last 40 years had never happened. John had this grumpy old man expression which didn't leave his face up until the end. The other band members could have been his grandchildren. A curly bassist moving in a 70s way, totally immersed in his playing. A handsome blond guitarist with jeans which were too large for him who created sounds you wouldn't think of coming from a guitar. And a bold black ferocious drummer who was getting bored during the slower numbers.

John Cale doesn't have a style. He switches between styles like chamaeleons alter their colour. Down on the back of his white sweatshirt it said Change. Probably his motto for life. After the hard-rocking, tight pieces in the beginning, he and his band played some extremely funky songs in the vein of Prince. Even John sang in falsetto. Then they performed Gideon's Bible from 1970s Vintage Violence in a long atmospheric planante version. My fave of the night. The kind of new age which doesn't age. After there was a song which sounded like a cover of Randy Newman's You Can Leave Your Hat on. It wasn't though, I guess, it was stolen, or unconsciously inspired if you wish. Then they played two progrocky pieces from Hobo Sapiens, they sounded like concept songs, I found them annoying. The new material on the other hand was extremely hard-rocking, especially the second last song which turned into a jam session finishing with the line "Good Night." Like a Sister Ray of today.

The first concert ever where I missed some kind of ear protection. How can this guy's ears bear the noise he and his band make? I don't know what he sipped out of his cup after each song but it must have been something strong. Strong and non-alcoholic.

da waren diese mädels, die umfragen machten am eingang. es ging darum, ob die besucher beruflich oder privat auf der messe waren. eine fragte mich und meinen indischen kollegen, der philosophie studiert, wo nietzsche geboren ist. meine antwort konnte niemanden befriedigen. röcken bei lützen ist nicht gerade ein sexy ort, weder in reality noch in imagination. völlig bescheuert, aber ich habe mich für nietzsches geburtsort geschämt.

der sympathische katholische pfarrer im schwarzen talar hatte keine eintrittskarte für die messe. er erzählte mir was von einem verwaltungsproblem. als ich ihm selbstherrlich sagte, dass wir heute mal ein auge zudrücken würden, wollte er widersprechen. ja ich weiß, das war gemein. ich ließ ihn trotzdem rein und er ging rein. auf die frage, wo er hingehen müsste, gab ich ihm die falsche aus dem ansonsten gut gemachten kirchenfaltblatt memorierte info, dass der andachtsraum im ersten stock ist. wahrscheinlich hat er seine predigt nur vor dem herrn gehalten. dagegen ist eigentlich nichts einzuwenden.

Something is slowing down this site considerably but I don't know what. I have tried to rem out everything containing javascript or external images in the sidebar. But I couldn't find the bottleneck. I am going to listen to some Ry Cooder now. Maybe that will help. Is there a reader out there who has an idea?