quote ...'Named after a late 60s hairstyle (not their promiscuity) this trio of American sisters formed a band under bizarre circumstances. Their father had his palm read by his mother and she made three predictions, the last of which was that his children would form a pop band. Since the first two predictions came true but clearly not understanding what a prophecy is he decided to take his three daughters out of school, bought them instruments and formed the band.
Despite being forced into it, the girls claim to have enjoyed their musical slavery. The next few years consisted of a few hours of schoolwork from a mail-order company, morning music practice, afternoon music practice and gymnastics. Sometimes they set up their instruments in the living room, but mostly they played in the concrete-walled, concrete-floored basement.
Their first album “Philosophy of The World” garnered no attention whatsoever, the producer ran away with 900 of the 1000 pressed copies – apparently later claiming: “Shock therapy and all the Prozac in the world would never stop the haunting sounds of these banshees”. After their father died the girls escaped their six stringed shackles and moved on with their lives. But in 1980 their album was discovered at a Boston radio station and they became moderately famous and admired for their “innovation”. Here were three teens playing instruments we’ve heard countless times, but this time with none of the familiar signposts – none of the standard rhythms or chord progressions we’ve come to recognize and expect.
They played a couple of concerts and are considered groundbreakers in the field of outsider music. Kurt Cobain and Frank Zappa have cited “Philosophy of The World” as a major influence, with Zappa claiming the band are “better than The Beatles”.
Dot, Betty and Helen Wiggin transformed their own lives into lyrics while performing music as The Shaggs. Through music, they described hope despite disappointment. We love The Shaggs because we share those feelings and hopes. “The Shaggs love you, and love to perform for you. You may love their music or you may not, but whatever you feel, at last you know you can listen to artists who are real. The Shaggs are real, pure, unaffected by outside influences. Their music is different, it is theirs alone. They believe in it, live it. It is a part of them and they are a part of it. Of all contemporary acts in the world today, perhaps only the Shaggs do what others would like to do, and that is perform only what they believe in, what they feel, not what others think The Shaggs should feel.” – Liner Notes from Philosophy of The World'.
From the Fan Club February 9, 2010 - Tuesday click here
Rotate the Completor - open letter
This is a copy of a letter I have been sending to people regarding RTC, it has information on how I first met him and where to contact him. Read it if you want to know a little more about the music.
Hello, sorry to bother you like this but a friend of mine said that you might be able to help me with regards to the following. Hopefully it will interest you as much as it does me.
Before I begin I’ll give you some background information. My name is ................. and I am a resident of Tauranga, a city located in ....New Zealand..... Not much happens in Tauranga as it like a ....Florida.... for example mostly serves as a pretty, artificial city for which the elderly can retire, play bridge for awhile and then die. The idea of anything happening here of musical importance is absurd, because despite the occasional metal or covers band playing loudly and badly in some yob bar on a Saturday evening this is an artistic wasteland bereft of any talent, energy and creativity. What little talent that may have been here has moved away long ago to larger and more prosperous cities due to the combined lack of respect and outlets for their personal expression. The rest are so stricken with apathy they either cease playing like myself or join the hordes of covers bands selling their credibility for a spot as the proverbial wedding reception juke box. So the recent developments of which I am about to share have come both as quite a shock and a definite pleasure and for my mind are in desperate need of being shown to a far wider more understanding audience than the ignorant local population. So I have made it my mission to bring some exposure to the man who calls himself….Rotate the Completor.
During our summer last year I found myself on one of the back streets of our city centre due to being unable to find a car park anywhere else thanks to the masses of people like myself doing their Christmas shopping at the last minute. As I was feeding enough coins to create a small deposit on what could be my first house into a hungry parking metre I noticed a busker about 50metres down the road. I found this rather odd because besides the occasional business person heading down those ways to catch a taxi or someone trying to locate their dignity from their previous weekend’s night clubbing antics then there was very little foot traffic. Certainly not enough to warrant busking! What made it more bizarre was that the main drag was only 2-3 minutes walking distance away. And what with the spirit of Christmas in the air generosity for buskers would be at record highs.
Curious, I decided to walk by for a closer look. The busker was a rather strange looking guy, mid to late 20’s I’d say yet quite boyish if one could see past the scraggly beard framing his face, kitted out in an odd selection of oversized well aged clothing like you would see on a child playing dress up in his fathers clothes. Now much to my surprise this guy was not playing the standard, crowd pleasing set list of top 20 hits but was instead belting out some of the weirdest, original, tuneless, repelling to the average person, inspired music I’ve ever heard. I still find it hard to describe exactly what kind of music it is that Rotate the Completor plays so until you can actually listen to it just imagine a deranged children’s entertainer playing a mix of blues, jazz, blue grass, rock n’ roll, folk and carnival music all somehow blended together and sung for the most part in silly voices to disguise how atonal he is. A friend of mine upon listening to R.T.C for the first time dubbed what he heard quite wryly and very aptly as ‘savant garde’. Now this guy is going full tilt, playing as loud as his un-amplified acoustic will let him, dancing like he has a very troubling parasitic infection and forming his words with an impressive array of facial expressions the likes of which are usually reserved for rubber faced comedians and or people who have never had children trying to be ‘silly’ around the offspring of other people who have had children lest they be seen as being unable to communicate with those younger than themselves due to having never had children like those that have…
Now what gets and hooks me is the fact that the other, probably lost, people that do walk past are ignoring our hero and if anything treating him like a leper, giving him an incredibly wide berth, far more than what the usual accepted side stepping rule when encountering and trying to avoid buskers’ permits. Some have even crossed the road only to re-cross moments later once they have gotten past this noisy obstacle. All the while R.T.C is completely oblivious, totally absorbed in playing his little ditties and having a grand old time doing so. Astounded by his genius and everyone else’s ignorance I watched and waited to see what would happen next. After watching him play 4-5 more similarly mental songs I took out my wallet and emptied all the coinage I had onto his at this point empty busking hanky and started to return to my previous viewing position. Now the idea behind this was that hopefully with a little validation it would spur him on to keep playing. But no, much to my amusement mid way through the song he was playing he stopped leant down, scooped up his hanky, slung his guitar over his shoulder and without as much as even a glance in my direction crossed the road and entered the fruit and veggie store opposite from where we stood leaving me alone scratching my head in wonder.
After making sense of what just happened I followed, eventually catching up with him in front of a stall of sweet potatoes weighing them up in his hands and squeezing them like one would do if they were trying to discern whether a peach or avocado was ripe enough to eat. Bemused I looked on while he made his choice and then attempted to start a conversation which was no easy feat. When I first went up along side him and said ‘hello’ he swung around, guitar almost decapitating me and strode off heading at a fierce pace towards the counter, when I finally caught up to him this time I tapped him on his shoulder to give fair warning at which point he turned, looked at me with this priceless possum caught in the headlights expression and gave me a slow, drawled, suspicious ‘yes?’. I explained that I’d just been watching him while he busked and thought it was very good but before I could continue with all the platitudes and questions I had wanted to get out the guitar was again heading for my head while a ‘thank you’ was also roughly aimed in that direction. Now I should say here that I’m not usually the kind of guy that follows others about like a needy affection starved animal but to hear something musically from my generation that isn’t just an insipid reinterpretation of the last decade’s music and to hear it on the streets of Tauranga no less was excuse enough for me to forgo my usual insouciance to take on the role of gushing fan #1 so I could at the very least find out who this enigma was. So I cut him off at the counter and started asking the questions for which I wanted and needed the answers to. Brilliantly, at first he tried pretending that he couldn’t see me until it became glaringly obvious that I could only be talking to him as there was no-one else in or near the vicinity of the line for service. When he did finally look at me with his startled possum expression a fixed like he’d only just realised I’d been standing in front of him the entire time he gave me his slow, drawled, suspicious ‘yes?’ response once more. So I repeated myself for him but by the time I’d gotten through my spiel about how great it was to hear something original in Tauranga and how great he was etc and asked my first question I’d lost his attention, he was off in his own little world. Getting and understanding the message that either through misanthropy, insanity, shyness or being the human incarnate of the rabbit from Alice in Wonderland he couldn’t or didn’t want to converse I grabbed a pen and wrote my contact details on the back of my receipt on the off chance that one day he may like to jam or hang out or whatever and handed it to him which was met with a response you can probably already guess for yourself. After that I left my new friend to his own devices, only seeing him again briefly as I was returning from my shopping, sitting alone on a park bench eating his sweet potato like an apple. In hysterics, I rushed home and told everyone I could, to little or no interest, about my odd encounter with this strange little man who despite my best efforts I knew zilch about and sadly never expected to see or hear from ever again.
So imagine my surprise when about 3 months ago a package arrived for me with the sender listed as a Rotate the Completor. I’m not sure if it is the same where you come from but over here R.T.C isn’t exactly a common name. So after checking for any ticking sounds coming from within I cautiously opened the envelope to reveal the contents; one audio cassette with an odd little photocopied drawing for a front cover titled ‘Rotate the Completors: Completed Rotations of the…’, and with some type written directions for use-age on the back. Truth be told I had nearly forgotten about my encounter of the previous year as I had neither seen nor heard from the little busker since. It was only when I turned the tape on and heard the manic combination of talent, no talent, originality, insanity that I realised just what it was that I had been sent and quickly turned off the tape and paid more attention to the package it came in.
I’ll go into detail about the front cover after I have discussed the music itself but before I can even do that I must explain the ‘Rules for listening to Rotate the Completors: Completed Rotations of the…’. Set in type written font were 4 rules;
1.) Listen alone. 2.) Listen with head phones on. 3.) Listen only at night. 4.) Only permissible foods to be eaten when listening to ‘R.T.C’’s: C.R of the…’ ;cruciferous vegetables, members of the allium genus. I can’t really explain the reason for these except maybe they are designed to enhance the listening pleasure, that or was this how the album was conceived and R.T.C wants everyone to hear his music how he hears it? And in fact I think I’d rather not know as this just adds to the mystery.
Sadly I could not wait for night to fall and that I regret as it definitely would have enhanced the pleasure of that first listen if that was his intention but I did adhere to the other provisos by grabbing my old walkman, a plate of cabbage and tucking myself away in the darkest place I could find in my house. Now I thought what I heard on the street the previous year was bizarre but this completely blew that and me away. There are 11 songs in total, none of which are named; all are listed with their number and then an ellipsis for example 1… or 5… All songs are recorded on what could only be a Dictaphone as the sound quality is so poor, not that it really matters as it probably actually adds and sticks with the rough around the edges charm consistent of the other R.T.C attributes. All the songs bar the very last, 11…. are played on an electric guitar with some form of effects laden over top. Most of the songs also have drum accompaniment. Not from a highly skilled drummer over dubbing mind you but just R.T.C mostly out of time using a kick drum and hi-hat and maybe something else at the same time as he badly warbles and plays his guitar. Least that’s my belief as no-one else could possibly keep up with the odd changes in time and structure the songs constantly under go and nor could most musicians play in such a stripped back childish manner.
I won’t be overly descriptive on the music as it is best to hear it for yourself without preparation the first time in case it lessens the initial shock. However to up the intrigue factor on your part I will leave you with these tasty morsels of information. The music is still an indefinable chaotic mess of clashing styles but now with the added bonus of low fi technical wizardry the songs take on a more sinister tone in parts. Song 1… starts as a normal song would, well as normal as any R.T.C song starts, only to stop completely, start again but this time with the tape sped up, only to stop again at which point another copy of the same song starts playing over the first rendition but half a second behind only to stop again after your head feels like it’s about to explode from a combination of dizziness, confusion and amusement. Some songs are jarringly short while some tend to ramble as if they are searching for the point they are trying to make yet never wind up finding it. All the songs have the ability to evoke a wide range of emotions some of which I have never felt when listening to music or from living in general such as the gut churning feeling of being simultaneously elated, confused and disgusted.
The lyrics from what I can hear and decipher seem to be a mix of metaphors, tales about personified usually inanimate objects or animals such as cabbages and mice and heartfelt mantras like the last song which is basically 5 minutes of repeating the refrain ‘I am not insane’. Which brings me to the album cover, now I can only presume this child like drawing is a montage of all the characters contained within the songs as the big puffy white cloud thing in the top left must be the ‘dog in the sky’ mentioned in track 5… and cabbage and cantaloupe in the central area from track 1… I had been hoping to send a copy of this to you so you could see it for yourself but unfortunately there is no way that I can see how to attach it.
And best of all something I only just discovered last month is that if one leaves the album to run out then the entire thing is played in reverse at the end of each side.
Hopefully I have piqued your interest on this because my efforts to spread the good word of R.T.C here have been met with a typically muted response and I am in desperate need of some help in doing so. And as my friend kindly told me you would be one of the best people to contact as music like this is your specialty and therefore hopefully you will get as much enjoyment out of this as I have and will also spread the word to other like minded and interested souls. I should make clear that I am not trying to become the next Malcolm Mclaren nor am I dreaming about world domination for R.T.C I’d just like to see others get the same enjoyment out of this music that I have and that he gets some of the recognition he deserves so that he continues to make more of his warped genius music. Not that I think he really cares or needs the validation because since receiving his tape I have been steadily writing to the return of sender address from the back of his parcel with words of thanks, encouragement, questions, my intentions and everything I tried saying that day back in the fruit and veggie market but so far to absolutely no response. Maybe he just isn’t taking me seriously as I’m just a resident of Tauranga, I have no musical credentials or credentials and sees me as a potential stalker that should not be too greatly encouraged.
Now obviously you cannot make your own deductions on the questionable genius of Rotate the Completor without first hearing him as I could be massively delusional due to being starved for good local or contempory music. But there in lies the problem all my attempts to create duplicates of his album have thus far been met with resistance due to the sound quality or lack there of and it seems somewhat dishonourable to copy his album without the permission I have asked for in my unanswered entreaties anyway. But what I can suggest and this I can vouch for is what one of the few people I have shown this album to who have appreciated it has done and succeeded. My friend wrote to R.T.C requesting a copy of his album but did so in a way that he’d be obligated to do so by sending a blank audio tape with a stamped self addressed envelope big enough to carry a cassette, which after a couple of weeks waiting he received along with the photo copied cover and type written annotations that I had. If you wish to do this and I hope I have been convincing enough that you will do so then send your stamped, self addressed envelope, with I suggest a 90minute blank tape if you want the reverse of the album as well to: Rotate the Completor, PO Box 2000, Tauranga, New Zealand.
And if you do choose to do so and receive your copy please email me and tell me that I am not imagining things and seeing what I want to see and that you too enjoy it. And if you do then please pass this message on or tell as many other like minded souls as you can because with enough numbers we may even be able to convince R.T.C to come out from where ever he is hiding and start playing live or at least explain some of the more troubling aspects of his music.
Thank you very much for taking the time and effort to read this and I look forward to hearing from you.
quote..."My remiss as I have been in possession of the following announcement for a couple of weeks now, I had been waiting for further confirmation from the man himself (R.T.C that is) but have come to the realization that I could be left waiting for some time for a reply.
So here it is the man, the myth, the soon to be stuff of legend, hermits hermit himself Rotate the Completor has agreed to have his album ‘Completed Rotations of the…’ released through the ....Minneapolis.... based record label Roaratorio!!!!
According to the saint that made all of this possible; head of Roaratorio Mr James Lindbloom: R.T.C and his lawyer ‘Rotate the Complawyer’ have agreed to a limited vinyl release of 500 copies with an option for more if need be. R.T.C has also promised to contribute the necessary art work/liner notes for the albums completion, which should be interesting if some of the additions to his tape are to go on. Expectations are currently for an end of year release.
Anyone interested in obtaining a vinyl copy of ‘Completed Rotations of the…’ should contact James through www.roaratorio.com or www.myspace.com/roaratorio. Hurry because I imagine with such a limited release they will be snapped up fairly quickly.
So everyone put your hands together and give Mr Lindbloom a very loud applause for making this all happen. And to all of you out there that ordered his tape, listened to his songs, wrote to me and to him and gave him the encouragement to venture a little out of his shell – thank you. Now if we could just get him to start playing live…
Great book, I've been reading it on Google Books- I'll have to buy it, fills in lots of gaps
'For more than one voice: toward a philosophy of vocal expression' by Adriana Cavarero
First Sentence:
'The primacy of the voice with respect to speech that is, the inarticulate voice lies at the origins of many cultures that, in various ways, trace the beginning of the acoustic sphere to a divine presence'.
Description
The human voice does not deceive. The one who is speaking is inevitably revealed by the singular sound of her voice, no matter “what” she says. We take this fact for granted—for example, every time someone asks, over the telephone, “Who is speaking?” and receives as a reply the familiar utterance, “It’s me.” Starting from the given uniqueness of every voice, Cavarero rereads the history of philosophy through its peculiar evasion of this embodied uniqueness. She shows how this history—along with the fields it comprehends, such as linguistics, musicology, political theory, and studies in orality—might be grasped as the “devocalization of Logos,” as the invariable privileging of semantike over phone, mind over body. Female figures—from the Sirens to the Muses, from Echo to opera singers—provide a crucial counterhistory, one in which the embodied voice triumphs over the immaterial semantic. Reconstructing this counterhistory, Cavarero proposes a “politics of the voice” wherein the ancient bond between Logos and politics is reconfigured, and wherein what matters is not the communicative content of a given discourse, but rather who is speaking.
Preview the book at http://tinyurl.com/2wazpev
London College of Communication, Elephant and Castle, London. SE1 6SB. For more info email e.pitkin@lcc.arts.ac.uk
quote...'We get from avant garde modernism, by which I mean we get from Stein, the contemporary literature that we deserve. That in short is why Stein matters.
But what is Stein? I want to tell several stories about the Stein that we deserve.
One is the Stein that appears in the publication context of her time. And as example here I want to talk some about the 150 or so pages of Stein were published in the various issues of the journal Transition. Transition was edited mainly by Eugene Jolas while he lived in Paris and it came out monthly from 1927 until 1932 (after 1932 it came out less regularly, first from the Hague and then from New York, until 1938). So it interestingly, although not uniquely, charts the development of avant garde modernism before World War II. When Jolas reprints Tender Buttons in his journal Transition, he doesn’t just put it in the journal on its own. He puts it in a larger context, in a section titled “America,” which includes not only work by other American avant gardists such as A. Lincoln Gillespie but also work from a diverse range of genres and cultures such as fairy tales of the Aztec and Inca periods, a Mexican statue, a Columbian figure, and a Peruvian bowl.
The Stein that appears in Transition is one that is in dialogue with the wide variety of arts that are new to Europe as a result of imperialism. The editorials and reviews and essays of Transition make an argument that avant garde modernism’s forms are reflective of a Europe changed by imperialism, a Europe suddenly very much aware of how different cultures and their arts and their languages are entering and shaping European centers, over and over. Jolas does not really use the words “imperialism” or “colonialism,” he does again and again relate the avant garde to economic and political changes. Again and again he argues that this writing, a writing that at moments he calls a declaration of linguistic independence and at other moments the revolution of the word, was indebted to the disruption of the center'.
Ever wanted a cute set of speakers for your office desk? Well, check out the Munny Speakers “mod” from Fungus Amungus at Instructables. You’ll need a pair of Munny dolls ($25 via KidRobot) and 3″ drivers like these bamboo drivers ($22 each). Simply cut a 3″ circle off of the doll’s head with a Xacto knife to fit in the speakers. The Munny dolls are made of vinyl so you might want to use a blow dryer to warm up the doll’s face to soften it before cutting. After cutting off the faces, create a small puncture hole in the doll’s neck to thread the speaker wire. After threading the wire, fill the heads with polyfill and then attach/seal the speakers to cover the hole.
You’ve now got a set of cute Munny doll speakers. Full instructions at Instructables.
From this:
To this:
Via: Instructables
more cool speakers here
make your own instructions here,
supplies here
louise bourgeous dies age 98 and full of mischief right to the end
and.... leslie scalapino 1944-2010
From her Essay on the Comic Book
(Each of the lines or paragraphs is one of the frames of the comic book.) The crowd marks the split between themselves and experience. They construct all the buildings to be the same. That's a different way of regarding; so the man whose function it is to drive the bus doesn't know where he's going or seem to wonder. as it is before him Not using the mind -- which then occurs outside the frames of the comic book after -- as the bus driver from the civilization with- out order though it is repressed then I was out in the cornfields, the sky -- and people would pull alongside shouting obscenities saying to go back where one'd come from. What is the relation of action -- someone's -- to the unfolding of phenomena? The farm boys coming up alongside with obscenities out in the fields. Wavering alongside and if one says they're from there, their exploding feeling insulted. Which is really funny. Just say back to them they're from there and they erupt. At a streetlight, out in the fields -- out in nowhere -- and they waver there alongside shouting. then feel hurt in public from what had been before. One cannot expect to be a bum. The reverse of that -- which is before where people used to lie in the train stations and now they have to have a ticket Not using the mind -- is contemplating -- in the comic book. The newspapers have created the impression of disjointed expe- riences. But I don't read them. anyway, we're not in these experiences is the impression created by the newspapers which do not allow us to make connections Not having historical experience -- is the comic book as the form of the serial novel. Though popularly we're supposed to be in them -- this is a deprivation created by the newspapers themselves. The moon is in the day sky, now out in the cornfields -- rather than in the civilization which does not have order, though it is repressed. The farm boys hanging wavering floating at the crossroad -- alongside, shouting obscenities. are from the ordered civilization where the bum lying has died in the subway station. as such they're not in experiences -- as the reverse image of the deprivation created by the newspapers. The serial -- but then being before it And afterwards there's only that They are out by the fields These boys were shouting, maybe because they're together -- wavering hanging leaning out coming alongside. I feel depressed -- I'm tired of being made fun of. Farm boys who're just youths floating leaning out People standing like the cattle in the sea -- waist deep, standing on grass being invalidated and nothing is the reverse image of the ordered civilization and one is calm
quote ..." Xenakis was above all concerned with the production of new sounds, but the twist was that he was methodically obsessed. He later made a full break even with musique concrete because it was reliant upon existing sounds. Furthermore Xenakis thought that Cageian methods of chance and experimentation became likewise deterministic and fell back on habitual behavior when performed, not living up to the pathological expectations for ‘newness’. Regarding the sound quality and fortuitous composition of Cage, Xenakis quipped, “we all have fortuitous sounds in our daily lives. They are completely banal and boring. I’m not interested in reproducing banalities.” Xenakis was clearly disinterested in the synthesis of art and life."
"But this abstraction also implies that reality in its complicated form was indigestible, and also that Xenakis had no intent on digesting it as it existed empirically. There are two things happening in this abstraction: first, the calculated abstraction of social relations into mathematical data and pure pattern echoes the objectification of reification. To further support this theory one need look no further than Xenakis’s mimicry of insects and natural phenomena as well. In other words, Xenakis lumps human social culture in with animal nature, proposing there isn’t much of a difference. But secondly, and conversely, by formalizing social inadequacies through an ‘open system’ as it would later be called in the 1960’s in reference to conceptual and minimal art, the artist is incapable of accepting the conditions of reality at face value. Instead the artist sought to re-constitute reality by exorcising the latent potentials of its form and by overcoming life through formalizing it artistically (or at least attempting to do so), instead of synthesizing art + life, as is commonly understood to be a defining characteristic of the avant-garde and much art today".
Bicycle Built For 2,000 is comprised of 2,088 voice recordings collected via Amazon's Mechanical Turk web service. Workers were prompted to listen to a short sound clip, then record themselves imitating what they heard.
Why this song? The song "Daisy Bell," originally written by Harry Dacre in 1892, was
made famous in 1962 by John Kelly, Max Mathews, and Carol Lockbaum as the first example of musical speech synthesis. In contrast to the 1962 version, Bicycle Built For 2,000 was synthesized with a distributed system of human voices from all over the world.
Imaging Imagination: Diagrams of Humor & the Center of Levity, 1878
JF Ptak Science Books LLC Post 98
Acerbic and punctilious, this work by an anonymous (Ambrose Bierce-like) late 19th-century cataloger of human-ness attempted to diagramaitcally display the sharing of humor among people. The resulting images--all unexplained, not indexed, and left to a logical imagination--fit very nicely into a developing section on this blog called Maps and Diagrams of Imagination and Ideas.
During the early 30s a government survey compiled by eminent doctors created alarm and despair when it was pointed out that young people were listening to a strange type of music played by black people in the deep south. This music called the BLUES was deemed to be the cause of the breakdown of the moral fibre amongst young people between the ages of 12 and 27 (the Irving Schallander social report on the working classes 1932) whilst secret meetings went on late into the night (Hansard 1932) and government ministers became more and more agitated, the specialist police department SO19 at new Scotland yard followed and observed many thousands of young people and made notes and reports on their erratic behavior. LCC schools were also consulted and it was deemed by parliament and some of the great thinkers of the day (Bertram Russell) that to attempt to stop the influx of 78RPM records of this type of music and the music sheets also available ,would simply drive the movement underground some of the leaders of this new wave music were traced in the United States by the G men of Edward Hoover men such as Walter Bandycoot Edmunds, Blind Willie nelson and Thelonius Monk the great minds came up with a plan itself a masterpiece and the blueprint of many modern social orders still in use today. Outside night clubs, pubs, houses of ill repute and near to railway stations and tram stops and public toilets were sited the "Graham Triton " audio handset. Music of the deep southern type was played remotely via these units using the return path of the GPO public telephone network. In this way the Government of the day could control the music and monitor the tastes of the youth and those deemed to be in danger of persecution. A notice was printed in the daily papers such as the Jamaican weekly gleaner the Memphis times and the Shetland and skerries news that a contest was to be made open to all. You merely had to listen to the music at these street units and then sing along to the latest tune after which an operator took your name and entered you into a free talent show where your voice would be heard on the radio to millions of others. This allowed the government to easily build up a database of the fragile of mind, the intellectually challenged, the criminal types, and the vain and easily influenced. The grand finals were held at that lovely old Edwardian music hall Farks hall. On the first night 15 thousand people lined up to enter and listen the the competitors. The first Farks hall talent show was deemed a roaring success and the proletariat of the day never realized how easily the government of the day had manipulated them. Gradually new types of music were introduced by the use of large prizes and offers of fame, and the Blues movement became an isolationist movement listened to only by the devout few in small smoky clubs and watched over by SO19. the original contestants have long departed this life but amongst older members of the London public the comment you got Farkes hall talent is still heard even today. ... how easily is our language molded .
Dramatizes the story of a father, who, after finding himself at a loss for words at a public meeting, follows his son's lead and starts a campaign of vocabulary improvement.
Since last Sept, Australian customs officers have been given new powers to search incoming travelers' laptops and mobile phones for pornography, a spokeswoman for the Australian sex industry says. In fact it must be declared now on custom forms on entering the country...
Fiona Patten, president of the Australian Sex Party, is demanding an inquiry into why a new question appears on Incoming Passenger Cards asking people if they are carrying "pornography". Note not child pornography or illegal pornography--- but pornography. What about erotica, what about photos of my mother sunbathing? What about the fact that child porn is passed everyday across the INTERNET!!! Entering the country by the www, yep hard to believe that little box with a screen on it has a device in it that can send things across borders- invisibly...
Patten said officials now had an unfettered right to examine travelers' electronic devices, marking the beginning of a new era of official investigation into people's private lives. She questioned whether it was appropriate to search people for legal R18+ and X18+ material.
Next it will be dirty thoughts ... this is a grosely stupid 'solution' to the problem of child porn.
Really nice animation where each frame has been printed out on paper. I like the way that the virtual graphics have been made more tangible. Hopefully it won't be long until e-ink looks this good! Made by Benjamin Ducroz (....>>>ducroz.com) Spotted on: CreativeApplications.Net
"Noise serves as a chronometric marker and carrier. By distancing us from the event, noise tends toward the quality of memory." "While the sounds of particular noises (e.g., turntable rumble) may be historically referential, their inherent effect as noises also locates the signal in the past described above-a generic rather than chronologically specific one. A noisy signal finds itself in an eternal, absolute, and ageless past. Its tethering to that generic foretime induces the experience of a further vivid component of noised listening. Namely, noise evokes origin. As a layer between listener/ document and document/event, noise forms a substantive thread from the scene of the event to that of the listener and back. Noise incites the listener's attention back towards the object, inviting our participation in the derivation of our experience. By manifesting the cardinal quality of inception in the motivation towards it, noise fosters the encounter with the primacy itself of a "source."" "[N]oise is the suggestion of signification beneath a non-signifying agency. Noise is a style of distance-a distance that can be meaningfully confused or exchanged with location, memory, presence, absence, temporality, and experience."
All quotes and illustrations from:
Title: The Work of Reproduction in the Mechanical Aging of an Art: Listening to Noise Author(s): Stan Link Source: Computer Music Journal, Vol. 25, No. 1, Aesthetics in Computer Music (Spring, 2001), pp. 34-47 Published by: The MIT Press
this was one of the earliest Vocaloid songs ever 'created'. I still remember that amazed fascination I felt, watching "robots" sing so well...
heres some others- 'Miriam' vocaloid songs
Vocaloid MIRIAM Demos:MIRIAM Demo: "Never Give Up".
(NOTE: All vocals on this demo are sung by Vocaloid MIRIAM). Composed, Programmed and Produced by Andy Power. MIRIAM Demo: "Is This It?".
(NOTE: All vocals on this demo are sung by Vocaloid MIRIAM). Composed, Programmed and Produced by Anders Sodergren. MIRIAM Demo: "Under The Moon".
(NOTE: All vocals on this demo are sung by Vocaloid MIRIAM). Composed, Programmed and Produced by Anders Sodergren.
but these are the ones I rea-aly like... scatt'n away
LEON+LOLA Demo: "Dupdah".
(NOTE - All vocals on this demo are by either Vocaloid LOLA or Vocaloid LEON). A humorous piece featuring a kind of non-verbal "scatting", featuring LOLA and LEON singing together. This one illustrates Vocaloid's freedom! You can use any sounds a human could utter, and more! As you can see, rhythmically, harmonically, and melodically speaking, the sky's the limit! Written, programmed and produced by Anders Sodergren. LEON+LOLA Demo: "Freaky Sheep".
(NOTE - All vocals on this demo are by either Vocaloid LOLA or Vocaloid LEON). An abstract avant garde piece of rhythmic vocal sculpture (or to put it another way, weird) that illustrates how easy it is to explore new sonic territory with Vocaloid. Written, programmed and produced by Joe Hogan. Who did Joe get to sing what? Basically its 50/50 between the two singers. The harmonised stereo delay arpeggio type thing at the start is LOLA on the left and LEON on the right. The offbeat "sha" that comes in is both singers, again panned left and right. The "sar" bassline is Lola (way below her natural range!). The "ah, ah, ah, ah, ah" 4-part block chords figure contains two of each singer. The really high pitched tune that comes in at 0:24s is LEON (way above his range!). The whispered "taka-taka" thing that can be heard clearly at 0:33s is LEON, and that kind of bassy pitched kick-drum type sound that happens at the same time is also LEON. Switching between singers during a sequence is easy with Vocaloid.
... this blog continues to be a bag of tricks ... l originally started it to share sound art links but it has been revamped and is now focusing on language. Like the 'unsound' it still ranges from spoken and sung cacophonies, links to writers such as Stein but now many others, my furiously fitful notion of sounded language and its scores, and hybrid or experimental writing, especially with a flarffy twist. It previously worked for me as a research space for my PhD so posts before April 2023 will reflect that. Just to be clear 'unsound' for me is no way a value judgment ... majena mafe
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