Friday, May 11, 2007

Breakfast-Farts vol.1

had a dream where i looked over my fence and saw the back of a huge vulture peeking over the fence. i could hear the squishing noises of its beak stabbing and ripping the flesh from bones. it was feasting on a garbage pail full of horse parts. there had been a dead black horse in our living room and my mother took it out back to chop it up. " we've got vultures". i also seem to remember reading on a message board that the Untold Story was going to be on IFC, competing against HBO's new block of Hardcore Porn films, which go from Chasey Lain to Holly Hollywood. that's all i can gather.

did the noise thing last Wednesday night. wore a snot-encrusted pillow case with butterflies on it while doing my best Oxbow/TV on the Radio/Diamanda Galas impression over the Metal General's 15 minutes of feedback and brief drone. i read half of Dana Levin's "Personal History", sweating under the pillow case. we succeeded in what we set out to do, which was to alienate and fuck with the crowd, but at the same time we were ultimately unsatisfied. all it made us want to do was play our usual stuff. that's where our heads and hearts are; deranged hardcore metal.

i now have a new found respect for the noise bands i already loved. it really does take a rare specimen(s) to do that kind of music full-on. i consider myself a fan and an admirer, and as of 2 days ago i decided to remain just that. leave it to the ones with a real head for it. hopefully the pretentious phonies that populate much of today's noise scene will follow my example.

they won't.

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