Friday, January 4, 2013
Soaking in every second!
Experiencing my own personal D.C. hardcore / Dischord / Bad Brains renaissance here at home, as was reflected in our first set; that first HR solo LP is always a winner. And though playlist comments were light, that mini-triumvirate that started us off, featuring Scream (pre-Dave Grohl, Dave Grohl, Dave Grohl), inspired one listener to chime in, and posit that we were perhaps college roommates in 1986; hehe, a few years late for me, but I appreciate the sentiment. (I forgot to bring the Void, damn,)
"Consider the minority opinion," said Martin Sheen's Charles Starkweather, among several other, wise, isms. I wonder what ol' Charlie would think of today's heaping trend towards passive aggression in our society. It came today quite literally heaping, in the form of several, healthy piles of dog crap on my lawn. Bang-bang, Chow-chow; may these bullets circumnavigate you and square on your owner. One doesn't escape assholes upon migration from the city to the suburbs, their terror is only experienced in an indirect, and wholly not-preferred form. At least city folk tend to look you straight in the eye when they dump shit on your lawn.
Following the Starkweather lesson, we hit the brakes hard, as I was determined to deliver Sistrenatus in the first set. The pedal returned to the metal though, for the patient...this is WFMU, after all, and meeting too many obvious expectations would spoil the fun. Unholy, Graves and Archangels, drove while we cracked a window and fought off carsickness.
Also in our first set, and noted on the playlist, was Dead Peasant Insurance, a disc I'd been sitting on since August; a mighty, mighty large-ensemble, controlled-chaos assault that's worth digging for; if I could recall even the name of the guy I traded with for it, I'd surely share; even his solo-noise project name escapes me. It wasn't Wyatt "Skin Graft" Howland, who's also involved in DPI, but it may have been the other fella leaning over the case of effects in these photos. Still, a little mystery is nice, even appreciated, in this age of immediate information delivery. Everything is entirely too damn easy, and we'll eat cake, and continue to eat cake. The revolution not only won't be televised, it will have to wait until we've all updated our Facebook status, and / or tweeted about thinking about starting a revolution, and until that tweet has been re-tweeted, and finally, twatted (™King John.)
...I'll be back on WFMU tomorrow night, for a short stint from 9 p.m. to 9:45, spinning some decidedly non-Castle-type music; if you're curious, and near your computer, smart-device or radio, tune in and see/hear.
Click on our willing participant above, to reach the audio archives and playlist for last night's horrorcast™. I'd single out some of my own playlist favorites, but in truth, I really do like it all, a whole hell of a lot; if pressed, I'd say Whitehorse-Evilfeast (that looks like a heavy invisible axe; oh, how these black metalers suffer for their photo shoot)-Bereft-Astarot-Teatro Satanico-Spettro Family-Aglare Light-Slumber Room-Pink Sexdeath, and that's a whole hell of a lot to hyperlink, I'm Friday-lazy, so have at it, it's but a search engine away...no more digging through those dusty/filthy crates unless you want to; you don't even have to ask the fat guy.