Yo La Tengo

ira caplan's sonic squall rips new york's fourth of july gulls from the captivities of silence like a chainsaw through a bough of glass or chalk on yesterday's pavement; a soul possessed by demons determined to explode his body jerks with stock-market indices richter scale on jersey's fretboard; blinding sounds erupt then ribbon out dangling notes along the blue-green themes in a park for homeless evangelists shredding civic programmes deep in a feedback dream blooming into atonal squiggles of sound an express blast of manhole heat a peacebomb dropped on america heaving swollen thrashed a loop of pure non-violence & entropy a firework of stars & stripes tearing the sky a new arsehole

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Abendland reviewed online etc ...

Image
My chapbook Abendland (pictured left, details ) has been reviewed by Philly poet Adam Fieled on his excellent blog. Check out the review here . As far as I can tell, this is the first time my work has ever been reviewed, anywhere. I only have a couple of copies of the book left, but I hope to make an announcement soon as to a possible re-release, along the lines of Pavement's Slanted and Enchanted . For those who don't have a clue what I'm talking about, Pavement's debut full length album circulated unofficially as a cassette tape in the early 1990s, with the consequence that it was well known "underground" before being released, erm, "overground". So, if you'd like to possess a copy of the original chapbook, and would like to be able to tell your grandkids that you got in there first, before the Abendland project went mainstream, contact me via email . Like, today. In other spellbinding news, sure to get Stung seething, I've finally bitten
Read more

Before ... and ... after!

Image
I got my haircut just before leaving Australia on July 1 and, until last week, hadn't had it cut since. Okay, so it's only been four months but as you can hopefully see from the image above it was developing nicely into a Steve Winwood style, with a touch of bogan at the back. Normally I keep it pretty short however and the major question was whether I would be able to stop myself from getting it cut before returning to Australia, presumably looking a little more like Tom Hanks in Castaway . I needn't have troubled myself worrying about it. Last Thursday night I got a call from an American friend named Sean, with whom I share quite a few musical tastes, and with whom I had some great conversations that night in the suitably-named Ho Bar in Hongdae, including one where we assigned 1970s bands to colours of the rainbow. Six shots of tequila, five beers and two gin and tonics later, I asked him whether he had a pair of clippers. Answering in the affirmative, he led me ba
Read more

Funeral for Democracy

Summer revolution, flowers in your Air. Nike sweatshops. You are here: be there. For Pericles' printable version of our democracy has died. Come & join the funeral, bring a Lotus. Or your own war dead. We have shredded our constitution like ham. I don't take the peace movement seriously. Then again as a National Security Anal(yst) I might be wrong & so I tell it like it used to be, with a cortege of (Shit, the Fourth Reich's appearing at the following venues! A page has been torn from our torso, I swing high my own private drive. Democracy�s dead. The hand brake's �
Read more