got some newcastle shows up my sleeve for spring:

sunday 24 march – the tyne (with hannabiell & midnight blue)

tuesday 2 april – cumberland arms (with conquering animal sound)

friday 26 april – heartattack & vine (with the wave pictures)

sunday 5 may – the cluny (with dirty beaches)

seeitthrough-my-eyes:

DSC_0840_tc by Jazzy Lemon on Flickr.

just found this! what a peach… me and mikey of blackbird blackbird

right, don’t judge me (or do, i don’t know), but last night I made a remix of a Taylor Swift song (like a massive hack). strictly for funs. maybe now I can finally get it out of my head. an attempt at making 2-step stuff… came out a bit spooky, oops

https://soundcloud.com/waskerleyway/taylor-swift-i-knew-you-were

jamesjoys:

my fattened gasp, salted bitterway and right-ended and flatly gripped - beholdened to the left of the leftovers. moulded to the claspings of dead white philosophers and paracritically hinged to the crooked squeak of cholesterol-plump loudmouths. vented grasp exhausting ligaments’ reach to the…

HERE

my friend jamie has been listening to my new album (haunted tors) - the following business occurred to him:

jamesjoys:

Cautious ambling.  Ann Quin’s enfolded prose the reason for the image on this post.  BERG, a must-read for anyone interested in how deftly language lends its limbs to nimble ‘smiths.  I’m reading alongside Flann O’Brien, a writer bridging Borges and D.F.Wallace, he the sly troll residing underneath the creaking straddle.  Glue and maps that grew across my floor, expansive and minuscule and unnervingly so.

I find the thought of a single grain of sand unbearable. Terrible and terrifying in its image, and scaled upward into sight so as to inspect its own grain, detail, texture; sometimes an unimaginable smoothness - untenable gloss - and other times infinitely grainy, granular, each speck pointedly present.  Here is an object so minuscule and commonly multiple which is scaled in such a way that it is terrifying, and loomingly singular - objective and subject to exquisite enquiry - irresistible.  Each time this image comes to mind, I have to swallow it, smother it to prevent it overwhelming me.

I have been listening to Waskerley Way’s new EP (http://waskerleyway.bandcamp.com/album/haunted-tors).   A pixelated, glyphic sunset adorns the cover.  Mirrored.  The paradox of pixels imbuing the music - unclear but not blurred - neat, ordered, delineated squares of colour in shades.  There is a brief passage in O’Brien’s Third Policeman where a character describes a man who can see the colours of the wind:

“The wind from the east is a deep purple, from the south a fine shining silver.  The north wind is a hard black and the west is amber.  People in the old days had the power of perceiving these colours and could spend a day sitting quietly on a hillside watching the beauty of the winds, their fall and rise and changing hues, the magic of neighbouring winds when they are interweaved like ribbons at a wedding.”

Dread, death, life, nature, fate, all intertwine here as each person is assigned a birth wind - the prevailing wind on the hour of your birth  - the lighter the hue, the longer a life.  Every year from birth, you are given a cloak, a thin muslin perfectly capturing the exact hue of your birth wind.  As you age, and you accumulate more layers, the colour begins to darken, signalling your approach toward death…

Summit Shrine in Cloud flounders winding summer’s clasp, in saturated fades of cross-wound wind, winding clapper, a have-to haptic and, as grasping gasps grow dim and bleached, we walk, westward, in a blizzard…

a new waskerley way album… called haunted tors.

http://waskerleyway.bandcamp.com/album/haunted-tors

or

http://soundcloud.com/waskerleyway/sets/haunted-tors

go nuts, bb…

a new, free album by an improvised music project i play in… check it out!

feltbeak:

VILE-EVIL-VEIL - Voyager Of The Plumbing
B-Cátt & Gwilly
 

DOWNLOAD

what a banger this will be.