lectrix_lecti: (Autumn)
Further autumnish delights:

My favourite autumnal band is The Glove, and yesterday my really very dear husband had a really very sweet surprise for me. When I got up to do the dishes, he sprinted for the computer to put on dishwashing music for me, which he never does, and out of the speakers came lovely, lovely The Glove. He'd come across it online and downloaded it, bless him.

I did however feel disgustingly domesticated later on, listening to the album he downloaded for me while knitting on a jumper for him. Please shoot me.

Anyway.

While wiki-ing The Glove to provide linking pleasure for my beloved weadews, I found out that in August they re-released their album Blue Sunshine - now also with versions of the songs where Robert Smith's vocals replace Jeanette Landray's originals.

Off to shop it is, then.



The umbrella man is shouting
We shake his paper hands
There's mirrors down beneath our feet
So let's skate down the street
The casino man is laughing
He wears a shivering hat
We peel away like tinsel
Stick like splinters to the wall
lectrix_lecti: (His master's voice)
I knew there was something I had forgotten about our Berlin trip.

We went to the Musical Instruments Museum!

I'd say they don't really get many visitors, as the ticket said it cost 4 € to get in, while in reality it cost 2 €... Had to lower the price, eh? It was quite interesting, though, but we remarked on the fact that they had a gazillion cembaloes, but no moog and no theremin, for instance. However, if you (like me) fancy looking at cembaloes in every shape and size and with barely imaginable features (foldable travelling cembalo, anyone? Or maybe one with a built-in virginal?), it's a brilliant museum.

And they have THE MIGHTY WURLITZER!



This is an insane instrument. How many organs have you seen that have a fucking tuba? Timpanies? 97 tibia clausa pipes?

We didn't quite understand the madness of it until we stumbled upon its chambers - a floor above the keyboard part of the organ.

It's played every Saturday, and I swear, the next time we're in Berlin I'll go for a listen. The museum offered recordings for the visitors' endless pleasure, but it's just not the same. Not that the recordings weren't impressive.

Just look at that monster. It pleases me enormously that there are people in the world who will dream up and build something like The Mighty Wurlitzer.
lectrix_lecti: (JAMC - I hate rock'n roll)
I rather like the new Jim Reid single. Quite promising, I think.

And yes, I know the link is to the Jim Reid Myspace profile , which means that the song will annoyingly start playing automatically when you click the link. I hate Myspace. I hate getting the shit scared out of me when I innocently drop by a page there, because some track will immediately jump up and bite my ears. I like being prepared for my listening experiences, and glancing at Myspace profiles means being constantly prepared for assaults on the ears.


Off to this year's gathering of various siblings and nieces and nephews. If I'm still incommunicada by Tuesday, consider me dead by family.
lectrix_lecti: (JAMC - I hate rock'n roll)
I have absolutely no idea how I managed to put off reading Atwood's Oryx & Crake for so long. It's ages since I bought it, and I started it only two days ago. It's amazing. Absolutely amazing.

Some books just don't tempt me to pick them up. I hear they're good, the back text is promising, I buy them and then I leave them lying around because I'm never in the right mood to actually read them. Atwood novels invariably fall into that category.

Meanwhile, I re-read and re-read some books, Steven Saylor and George R.R. Martin and Jan Guillou, because my brain seems to turn to porridge when I'm at home, so I can only stand light, undemanding, entertaining literature.

It's possible that other Martin readers would question my classifying him as light and undemanding. Ye gods, the politics in those novels, and the merciless offing of central character after central character. The thing is, the politics aren't real, it all happens in a constructed fantasy world, so there's no need to think or feel or react with my proper real-life brain parts.

On the other hand, I keep re-reading Stephen Bury's Interface, and the politics and science in that might very well become real. For all I know they are real, although I suspect the grey eminenses would have chosen a less bizarrely simian-like (looks and brains) puppet than the current US President. It shouldn't be too difficult to find a more edible and appealing politician than him.


In other news, I've received a package from Japan and I'm now the rather overexcited and ecstatic owner of The Jesus & Mary Chain's Sound of Speed, the Japanese version. Which contains the song Terminal Beach. Which I've been looking for for years, with no success. It's mine. Mine! Yesss, my preciousss, mine now, to listen to whenever I want.

Also, the new Muse album sounds better and better, so as long as I can successfully ignore tabloids arranging "tape yourself singing your favourite Muse song" contests all is well.

Konsert!

Jun. 26th, 2006 08:11 pm
lectrix_lecti: (His master's voice)
Strictly for Norwegians. Well, strictly for people in Oslo.

Flying Edward spiller på Sound of Mu, onsdag kl. 8. Vil du være med så heng på.
lectrix_lecti: (I'd rather... (Blackadder))
I'm listening to Jakko and snickering. Good Lord, what marvellous shite.

Downloaded an album a while ago, because his song A Grown Man Immersed In Tintin is one of my all-time favourites, and then I sort of forgot about the download. It turns out that not only is it a different version of A Grown Man Immersed In Tintin that's on this album, said song is apparently also his one stroke of genius. The single version that is, which I suppose is the version I have on tape somewhere, recorded from the radio back in '87.

The man went on to play with Level 42 a few years later. That should tell you everything you need to know about the album I'm currently molesting my poor ears with.


ETA: Ear medicine: Tom Waits + Primus - On The Road, from a Jack Kerouac album. I feel much better, thank you.
lectrix_lecti: (Percy Wells 4 (figure bright background))
The photos from the Flying Edward gig at Mir yesterday didn't turn out so well, except maybe two which will find their way to Flickr.

Anyway. Would anyone (read: [livejournal.com profile] 90000065b and [livejournal.com profile] she_dragon, but I'll cheerfully upload for others too) be interested in a three-minute video from the gig? One song, decent quality for a still camera with video, not so good bass-less stereo sound. If so, comment with e-mail address (comments will be screened, so no worries).


Edit: I'm having some problems with compressing the damn file. There is no way I'm uploading 368 MB to SendThisFile, that'll take three hours, argh. I'll get back to you on this.

Edit 2: Does anyone know about any FREE video converter software? I'm not going to convert so much video that I feel good about forking out $ 30 for some.
lectrix_lecti: (Default)
And exactly how am I supposed to attend a festival whilst being this ridiculously ill?

Granted, I don't have to hit the loo every ten minutes anymore, and I haven't been feverish since Sunday, and the absolutely consuming pain is gone, but my energy level hasn't been this low since the infamous Three Week Flu episode in 1994.

I'll just sit around near selected stages, trying to catch at least some of the bands I wanted to see. Thank all possible gods that Thursday will be easy, I'll leave the park after seeing Dinosaur Jr. I will certainly not stick around to see bloody Turbonegro, unless I'm extremely well paid to do so. Rubbish.

But there will be no seeing Flying Edward at Parkteatret for me tonight, I'm afraid. I might manage to hobble two blocks to Verkstedet and see The Vineyards. Maybe.


And I absofuckinglutely have to see that Alexander Hacke film at Øyakino.
lectrix_lecti: (Default)
I don't fucking believe it.

I've been watching the Live 8 broadcast for half an hour, and during that time I have
1) been thorougly annoyed with Bono, but that's nothing new, so I'll let it go.
2) been thoroughly annoyed with Björk, but that's nothing new, so I'll let it go.
3) been thoroughly annoyed with Coldplay, but that's nothing new, so I'll try to let it go.

But now Richard Ashcroft is on the stage with bloody bland boring Coldplay, doing Bittersweet Symphony, a song I happen to love.

I can't believe he's doing this to such a wonderful song. One thing is Richard Ashcroft being on stage with Coldplay in the first place, he can make lovely music while having crap taste himself. But seriously, you don't let Chris Martin play on Bittersweet Symphony.

I'm virtually speechless.

Another thing, half of the wristbands Chris Martin is wearing are ridiculous some-charity-or-other ones, which I hate with a passion. I suppose the white Make Poverty History one was to be expected, but I suggest he rips the rest of them off his little vegan wrist. They are, after all, made from dead animals.

Good gods how I loathe charity wristbands. What is this need to flaunt a contribution to a charity cause? I don't feel compelled to go around constantly making a massive point of my monthly contributions to Médecins Sans Frontières. The most amusing story about these wristbands I've heard is about the no bulllying one - kids who didn't have one ended up being mobbed for not being against bullying.

Yay. Now I'm being treated to Good Charlotte. From Tokyo, and I suppose Japan is the right place for such a pretend-tough band. Ever seen Japanese punk rockers? They're far too clean and polite.


The worst part is that I'll probably end up keeping the TV on and exposing myself to one indifferent or offending band after another, all evening.


PS
Thank the gods for Duran Duran.
lectrix_lecti: (Default)
A few days ago I received my copy of the live CD from the Neubauten gig in Copenhagen. I actually squeed fangirlishly when seeing the words "Bargeld Entertainment" stamped on the envelope.

The sound quality is far from stunning, but it's fairly good. I so adore Neubauten for making recordings of all their concerts and making money off their loving fans by selling said recordings. Can't wait to get my hands on the DVD I, as the good paying supporter I am, will receive this summer.


And speaking of DVDs, I got The Black Heart Procession's The Tropics of Love DVD and made the somewhat annoying discovery that our low quality DVD player couldn't handle it. After 15 minutes of adrenaline rush and fiddling with the DVD player, I watched it on the laptop. Very beautiful, very strange, highly recommended.


When I go buying books, I always head straight for the English section. I rarely hear about Norwegian novels or anthologies that actually sound interesting, and I see no reason to read English literature in translation, so I can't be bothered with standing around staring at Anne Holt and Unni Lindell titles. For some reason, yesterday I got the notion of browsing the Norwegian section to see if there were any interesting translations available of books in languages I don't read (i.e. all languages but Norwegian, Danish and English. I can read some French if I set my heart to it, but I miss out on too much to enjoy it).

Whaddya know, I left the shop with a reissued translation of Boris Vian's L'écume des jours. I had no idea it was translated, but it apparently was in 1976... I simply couldn't not buy it.


I also seem to slowly oh so slowly be getting over the "can't concentrate on reading" spell, Susanna Clarke's Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell is starting to absorb me. Now I have to finish it as quickly as possible, I want to get started on Vian but I'll be damned if I leave one more unfinished novel lying around.
lectrix_lecti: (Default)
Another day, another band - several, in fact.

King Midas used to annoy me no end, thanks to too-cool-to-be-cool singer, but they were a treat now. Good music, the singer has eased up a bit, all is well in the world.


Lukas Kasha, who played on the Underwood stage, is one of those bands I've heard about for ages but never gotten around to see, and now I'm regretting that and will attend every gig they do ever. New huge fan alert.


Cato Salsa Experience was utterly enjoyable. Also very fun to see 15-16 year olds flocking to the stage.


I've never seen The Hives live before. All style, no substance (really, does anybody buy their records for the music?), but great fun.


And then there was Roxy Music.

It's thirty years since their last appearance on a Norwegian stage. I'll admit that I wanted to see them now just to have seen Roxy live, as I didn't really believe it could be good. Well, it was good enough... And the audience was treated to two of the ugliest suits in the world:



As a youngster who's only heard Roxy on records (and Bryan Ferry usually do a few Roxy songs solo), I wasn't too impressed. But OK, it was fun enough.

Roxy Music setlist:
1. Virginia Plain
2. Street Life
3. Out of the Blue
4. Ladytron
5. A Song For Europe
6. Oh Yeah
7. My Only Love
8. Both Ends Burning
9. Tara
10. In Every Dreamhouse a Heartache
11. The Bogus Man
12. Jealous Guy
13. Pyjamarama
14. Editions of You
15. Re-Make/Re-Model

1. Love Is The Drug
2. Do The Strand


By the way, the weather was fine, which means my sunburn is killing me.
lectrix_lecti: (Default)
Thanks to the idiocy of System Of A Down's management, the media was not allowed to take photograps during SOAD's gig at Norwegian Wood festival yesterday. Which means that there are no reviews of the show today, because Norwegian press does not stand for such nonsense. All there is in the papers are tiny notes about why SOAD doesn't get reviews.

How come only American bands and artists demand complete control of photographs of the band? Is it only here in Norway that kind of behaviour is frowned upon and punished with lack of reviews?

Puls.no, however, has a review. And photographs...

And it was one hell of a concert. God they're good. Oh wow.


Gåte delivered a very very nice show. Gunhild is always enjoyable, the music is good, all is well. And Magnus Børmark doesn't wank his guitar, he fucks the entire stage. I have no idea how he manages to dance/climb/roll around with his guitar like that, but I do love watching him.

Magnus Børmark

Here he is in a more quiet moment.


Stonegard was good, Wednesday 13 was enjoyable only because it was shock metal for the kids, the rain was annoying but we survived.


And tomorrow we'll try to get up early and get tickets to see Roxy Music and The Hives at Norwegian Wood.
lectrix_lecti: (Default)
Vega1


I've seen Neubauten live two times before. Sadly, this was the not the best gig. Not even the second best. Still, when Neubauten is not up to their best, they're anyway so good it's scary.

Blixa Bargeld announced that there would first be one hour-long set of their greatest hits, and then another hour-long set of, err, their greatest hits. It was, after all, the 25th anniversary tour. They kicked it off with Yü-Gung (Fütter Mein Ego), from the album 1/2 Mensch and one of my absolute favourites, and I was in heaven. An industrial, avant-garde, dada, noise heaven.

The Neubauten was as always one mean machine, grinding and hammering out Haus der Lüge, Perpetuum Mobile, the truly beautiful Sabrina, Selbstporträt mit Kater and Sehnsucht. I, who discovered Neubauten at 15, was finally treated to Z.N.S. live, they got everyone to sing along to Was Ist Ist (several hundred people screaming "Was ist ist/Was nicht ist ist möglich!"), and ended the second set with the song meant to round off all concerts ever; Ende Neu.

Oh my fucking gods it was great.

Blixa seems to become more talkative every year - this time around he told the Kango hammer anecdote ("Andrew did some architectural criticism with power tools"), bantered a lot with Alexander Hacke and told the story about the film they wrote Sabrina for and how it turned out that the song wasn't used for it's original purpose (including a wonderful Blixa-comment on "a boy losing his virginity for the first time").

I'm fairly easy to please when it comes to Neubauten. Still, I've seen heroes of mine live before and become truly disappointed (a big fat fuck you to Lou 'I don't wanna be here but I'll do a bit of guitar wanking if you insist' Reed). The reason this isn't the best gig of theirs is probably that the audience wasn't all that responsive, dampening down the band the tiniest bit. It was still impressive, as concerts go.

And, woo absofuckinglutely hoo, I got my hands on a copy of their anniversary celebration book, No Beauty Without Danger by Max Dax and Robert Defcon. Out of 500 copies made, I actually own one.



Vega2
Blixa!


Vega3
Andrew Unruh plays the shopping cart


Photographs by [livejournal.com profile] wasteman_r, a terrible but enthusiastic photographer who was in charge of the camera because I am too small. Being a recognised fan I could get a photo pass, but I didn't dare get one and then show up with a tiny Minolta thingy among the well-equipped photographers.

If you're curious enough and don't know Neubauten, visit their web site.
lectrix_lecti: (Default)
Mark Lanegan, I tell you.

After 20 years of drugs and booze and generally unhealthy living, his voice has become perfect. Raspy. Deep. Slipping in by the ears and snaking it's way directly to the ovaries.

I'm not joking. There's a Mark Lanegan fan forum where a thread concentrates on the turn-on factor of Mr Lanegan's voice, in and of itself.

He isn't much of a looker. Heavily tattooed, which scores points in my book, fairly pleasant facial features. But come on, this is a man who dyes his hair black and neglects to dye his bloody blond sideburns.

And this is a man with about as much stage presence as a microphone.

When performing live, Mr Lanegan stands absolutely still - maybe he nods his head to the beat for a bit, maybe he goes to pick up his drink, but that's about it. Lots of light from behind, no spotlight at all at Lanegan. It's like The Jesus & Mary Chain gigs without the movement of the guitars.

Still, his concerts are pure magic, as well as his records. That voice, carefully honed through years of abusing every substance known to man, holds you in thrall, picks you up and flings you into a hot, dark, dusty universe for an hour or two and of course it turns you on.

Hang on, Mr Lanegan, I'll just go get that room you sing about.

July 2009

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