Friday, September 24, 2010

I hear the faint rumble

By all accounts, Joe Spinell was a man of character to be admired, a generous, warm-hearted actor whom all his colleagues loved or at least respected. Still, in his most unforgettable role as Maniac, Joe was able to channel something deeply disturbing—homicidal rages brought on by a very-wrong mother>son relationship, and the belief that whores must be "saved" by extermination (one of those great ideas we must thank the perversion of Catholicism for.)

Maniac is as bleak, ugly and slimy a New York film as ever there has been, up there in my estimation with Taxi Driver, The Panic in Needle Park, A Hatful of Rain, Bad Lieutenant, and Larry Cohen's 70s films. That New York is mostly gone, though, sanitized for better or worse by the needs of real-estate developers and the very affluent.

I mention Joe Spinell not only because of this week's screen capture from Maniac, but also because he is one of the patron saints of My Castle of Quiet—a good "Joe," with a well-developed dark side. My kinda guy all the way. If you deny the ugliness, you're just going to have to deal with it at some later time, when you may not be ready. But at the same time, be righteous and true, until someone gives you a reason not to be.

Last night was the usual catharsis through the playing of favored recordings, no special guests this time, but plenty of friends, and long-form extrapolations. Older selections by Einstürzende Neubauten and Missing Foundation (talk about acknowledging the ugliness—two experts right there) dazzled the faithful, and Raspberry Bulbs never fails to incite comment. Personally, I loved the new Telecult Powers tape side, and well, everything else I played, too. My show is not a random shmampling of things that might seem ok, freshly plucked from WFMU's new bin; I'm a meticulous planner, and I stand behind every selection.

Click on Frank Zito above to access the playlist and audio streams of last night's horrorcast™.

In two weeks—The Communion LIVE!

Friday, September 17, 2010


Pay attention to your kids, if you have them. Listen to the words between the words, or the consequences could be dire. Not likely as dire as that of the dumb fucks pictured above, but then that's why I love Home Movie, because the victims' greatest "sin" is obliviousness. If only I could make one hundred movies about that! Obliviousness could be to me as right & wrong is to Kieslowski, and unrequited love is to Wong Kar-Wai; but it's the Van Gogh syndrome—you can keep telling them, and telling them and telling them—they may even go, "oh, nice art!," but will they get it? NEVER.

Alas, I am but a not-so-humble free-form radio disc jockey.

I love that Husere Grav's unearthly sound-check rumbles were splitting the floor behind my first mic break; it gave the moment a "you're messing with these forces; you asked for them, and here they come!" feel. Perfect. I return to H.P. Lovecraft so often in my descriptions of these shows, and I suppose that's where it "begins" for me in general, and to be sure Lovecraft himself did not originate literary notions of The Abyss, but he was responsible for planting the image solidly in my brain. I mention this because when I opened the door to Studio B's live room to catch a few snaps of Husere Grav in action, abyssal terror was swirling unchecked around the room, and everything was a kind of black-grey whirlpool. This is significant. That one man can come on a plane from Texas to NJ, and render such power...but hey, that's what he was here for, right? If, for whatever reason, I'm not doing this radio program in five years (or next week!), I'll always look back in awe at the amazing canon of live music I've been privileged to present, and Husere Grav added yet another door to that hellborne advent calendar. Thanks, Todd!

Tell them about your gigs in October. TELL THEM!

Yes, yes. Thanks to Don Sigal, Castle supporter and honcho of Opposite Records (also performing/recording as The Alienist, Ken Timber and Sacrupture), I will be participating in some fine events in October at the Nyack Village Theatre in Nyack, NY. On Oct. 1, Castle favorites T.O.M.B. will be performing, along with other artists tba, and I'll be spinning grim interludes between the sets. At the end of the month, 10/29 or 30 (date tba) I'll be screening a double feature of hard-to-see horror films, including the classic American bizarro feature Last House on Dead End Street.

Castlehead love on the playlist for our honored guest, as well as Kyle Clyde, Gerritt, Ancestors, and bats (the animals, not the NZ popsters.) Remind me to speak more on bats next week.

Click on the dumb-fuck parents to get to the playlist and audio archive of last night's horrorcast.

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Husere Grav LIVE Horror on the Castle, this Thu/Fri.

The Texas-based project Husere Grav ("Huss-urr-ee Grahv") is certainly metal enough to have a page on the rigidly parametered metal archives—Athanor (aka Todd Watson) having been 1/2 of Homunculus, who released three full-lengths over 2005-6—but Husere Grav combines black-metal prescience and mystery (à la Paysage d'Hiver) with MB-like crumble and haunted tunneling.

All the Husere Grav releases, including vinyl splits, self-released CDrs, and tapes, are gloriously dark trip-out music (the untitled cassette on Stunned comes highly recommended), and Todd's live visit to the Castle comes highly anticipated. Athanor renders a unique performance for WFMU and My Castle of Quiet radio, and you can also catch Husere Grav live the following night, at Port d'Or in Brooklyn, with Castle favorites Hex Breaker Quintet and Isa Christ.

"Goddamit, let me in! We're being eaten alive out here!" @ midnight.
HG @ 12:30 approx.
WFMU 91.1 FM (NY/NJ)
WMFU 90.1 FM (Hudson Valley) live on the Web

Photo of Husere Grav by Metal Rouge.

Friday, September 10, 2010

I bought black bed sheets today!

Sounds pretty sweet, Marco. I'd love me some black bed sheets. Only thing is, it really shows up those cum stains. But yeah, generally I want black everything—walls, floor, ceiling, house and car. Don't misunderstand—my eyes love color (evidenced by my screen-capture choices); color talks to us in a multitude of voices—but black, black is my comfort zone. I'm ensconced.

Our special live guest, Chaos*Majik (aka Todd Pendu) rendered a masterful electronic suite of great power and subtlety; a remarkable, album-like presentation done in real time, with guest vocals by Laylah (Johanna L.)

I hope you all were listening. If not, click on Amanda above, uh, before The Goat takes her, to access the playlist and audio archive of last night's horrorcast™.

Castlehead love on the playlist for our very honorable guest, the Possession trailer, and FUN.

I have much to do, and much to contemplate, thanks to Todd's reading of my tarot last night with the Crowley Thoth deck. That's why I'm keeping this archive re-post short.

Next week --- Husere Grav!!!

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

Fylfot Cross-legs and An Alternate View, Le Pendu! Chaos*Majik on the Castle, LIVE Tonight.

The first time I wandered into a Bushwick back room and heard Chaos*Majik, I knew I was getting hit with something special. The contrast struck me immediately; between Todd's relatively small and portable setup, and the voluminous worlds I was hearing, large sonic membranes, sheets of ectoplasm, that were filling the room. You can hear (and sort of see) an excerpt of that performance at the link above.

The solo electronics of Todd Brooks (aka Todd Pendu) are a) under-recorded and b) not celebrated nearly enough. He shows up with everything he needs in two hands, and with that gear creates multiverses worthy of the maestros Klaus Schulze and Roland Kayn.

Todd seems to work tirelessly on, which encompasses art gallery and occult happenings (like an Austin Osman Spare 123rd birthday party), live music every Tuesday at Brooklyn's Glasslands Gallery, the online pendu magazine, with its popular Artists & Cats galleries, and the Pendu Sound Recordings imprint, releasing albums by Sasha Grey's aTelecine, among others.

In the midst of all this somewhere fits the amazing music of Chaos*Majik, generated by Todd through several small, often home-built or home-modified boxes and devices, suitcase-bound, including a light-stimulated resonator, off which Mr. Pendu mirrors the dancing of a candle's flame. All the Chaos*Majik sound-making devices are labeled and/or held together with dayglo electrical tape—the pendu symbol is absolutely bitchin'—and I'm a shameless sucker for a great combination of sound and aesthetics...I also like multiverses...and alter-verses, and you will, too.

Todd performed on WFMU last November 11 on My Castle of Quiet, as 1/2 of the duo Ghost Moth, with American jazz multi-instrumentalist Daniel Carter, and that session can be heard here. Todd returns to the Castle, this time solo as Chaos*Majik, to perform a continuous, 45-minute electronic suite, prepared especially for this broadcast.

Photo of Todd Pendu © your author.

"What big knockers!" "Why, zank you, doctor." @ 12 mid.
CM @ 12:30 approx.
WFMU 91.1 FM (NY/NJ)
WMFU 90.1 FM (Hudson Valley) live on the Web

Friday, September 3, 2010

yeah classic

"Tough." That's the word Fenriz used to describe the kind of music he wanted to make in Eibon, his never-fully realized project with Satyr, Phil and Killjoy. I bring up "Tough," because after two listens through last night's horrorcast™, that's where I'm at with it. For at least one evening of selections, it's a big, firm, solid set of cojones that connects The Stooges > Wolvhammer > ISA Christ > Incapacitants etc.

I never set out to play music that does not commit all the way to its reason for being; there are plenty of places you can go to hear that other stuff. Everyone's TRYING to have laughs and good times, so that shit is available in abundance. Me, I'm here to bring the bad news. "Sorry, your son's been killed in a 'military accident'; sorry, we're taking your house away; sorry, local law enforcement will make only a light showboat at shutting down the crack dealers right around the corner; sorry, budgets are down; sorry, the weather sucks; sorry, there's a fly in your tuna salad sandwich."

Too many people saying "sorry," and not nearly enough are doing anything about it. But who am I to talk? The disease of apathy is a palpable stench at my house. Am I even the afflicted anymore, or a carrier? I'm a carrier; pretty sure.

Castleheads loved that
Bloodsucking Freaks trailer (see—even the whimsy, the nostalgic absurdism, is designed here to encompass torture, anxiety, lack of surety, lack of subtlety, bad medallions, and chicks who just can't help themselves. Sure, laugh your head off, but she's still not getting her hand back.) You also enjoyed the new Raspberry Bulbs tape, Sovereign, Physical Demon, and Incapacitants. I'm not saying that there's no enjoyment, as there is much, but there are no apologies, either.

Don't feel too bad for her. Yeah, "Oh shit, here comes the machete," but she didn't have too long to feel bad about what was happening. She had a lot of time to think about the other stuff she did, like "destroy her child, daughter of a war hero ... turning [it] into a pig-fucker's bitch." You see, tough is not always as it seems—she who has lived a cheap life, and dies an even cheaper death, is "tougher" than he who wields the instrument. One click on her last look of surprise will take you to the playlist and archived audio of last night's program.