The Night of the Return of the Already Dead

"Home to roost"

There is, quite simply put, too much great music and too much support for the My Castle of Quiet radio show for me to just allow it to wane and wither. I've built something; an aggregation, however loose, a community—and I cannot abandon it, however much my person stands in a sort of perpetual state of crisis/crises. I can keep on living as the living dead, and do a weekly radio show at the same thymme—yeah, I'm that good.... On a lighter note, not enough people are named Hume these days. You can disrespect, screw another man, do me wrong, but please let his name be Hume. I'm not a human, or a "hume," do you see? It's perfect.

"Pass me a pickel, pleash?" Espionage. You shee, it really meansh shometing elsh.

Metal, and soundtracks/scores, and stellar improvised music, goes ON, and it's one of the few joys of my life keeping up with it all. "Give me some pleasure" —Iggy Pop.

So ... Saturday nights/ Sundae mornings midnight-3 a.m.; the customary rolling of the residence for bugs and enemies a-plotting. They never find anything. But it seems sort of perfect, this time, Castle-tee. I like it, cautiously; cautiously because, I'm cautious about everything, and because the weekend can be famous for comments-board douchebaggery, but I can work with that, and have a trick-bag of ways of dealing, some of them are even downright PLAYFUL.

Already scheming, thinking about live musical guests—for example, discussed long ago, a second appearance of Hoor-paar-Kraat; Seed Stock guest-DJ blackout #3; New York's Future Death Toll. ...and I'm sure there are more, more. I'm old, and needed that brain cell for something. These are just what has been already discussed off the top of my head. ...Would love to get some local paranormal-researcher types on the show this season, not that I necessarily believe, but I want to believe, and it's all more interesting than the drivel that gets passed around at an N/A meeting; "war" stories, past drug thrills, passing for God-box reboots—anyone have a paranormal research contact? More grind, hardcore; synth people. The only thing I won't stoop to is phoners; way too awkward not having that person face to face, though hopefully some old friends and/or some new ones will visit. My crazy old drunkard Polish landlord from the 90s? hehehe

So, Operation Home-to-Roost is finished; returning to my respective corner to recoup and energize for the season to come.

Last night's fill-in was a blast; always fun, and the preceding Freitag Schwarze allowed me reign to beef up those selections, though it doesn't take much; black metal seems the SOLE genre where new things are actually happening, still happening, redefining constantly the sub-sub-sub-genres and geniuses in their own time. And I was musing out loud last night about what it might take to get One Master to return, this time as Lustrum. So, no shortage of ideas, but, any thoughts on what my marathon premium should be this yare? I'm open. Was thinking maybe "Scores Galore"? Cinelogues and musical themes, rarer than not?

Also, in re: last night's show, not one single comment on the MUSIC ITSELF, which is extremely rare, though there were comments on one of those little things I do, when the technology fails to serve, where I turn on the mic but at a distance, and act as though I'm "figuring things out"...weird that people would bother to seize upon that, and in a surly manner label it a "rookie move"—haha, if I'm a "rookie," this is as good as it gets having been on the air since 1984. It IS the Internet, after all, where one can talk smack from the safety of one's own rubber Vulcan ears, with no fear of reprisal. ...

So I'll comment upon a few things of acute interest; Bob Bellerue's Redglaer 10", a compact little record of dense metallurgy; John Cage's "A Room," which was the high point for me of the film doc New York in the Fifties, and a piece I wasn't previously familiar with, not that I really "know my Cage," far from it. New records by Lufycrem Etaf, Cultes des Ghoules, White Medal, Black Cilice, *Vasaeleth*, Ubasute; tracks by Jarboe/Jon Thoresen and Bleak; a new double tape by Death Factory, and a new single, first time on vinyl, for Verglas.

That's about it; you'll hear me next week in The Castle's new time slot—again, Saturday night. Sunday a.m., midnight-3 ET. Pushing off the moist earth, reaching for the mouldy air, NOW. ...To hear last night's program archive as well as view the playlist, etc., click on sad, doomed Eddie above, from Toshio Matsumoto's Funeral Parade of Roses.

Dew.

So I'm sitting here now, listening to yesterday's archive, and I'm thinking, "what the hell IS this?!"> od Playgyooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo.

Bleeps and blops, popping in and out; what's happening, Rajah???? ... and Dawn, and Dew, and You. And Hugh.

No! It was not my show, after all, and whew and thankfully. Well it was MY SHOW, technically, but the browser audio (I hope, and not the permanent archive, or HORRORS, the actual broadcast as it was aired, methodically and machinistically popping in and out, vocal mics CLEARLY AUDIBLE and OVERLAPPING WITH THE MUSIC?!?! But you tell Barrett that something was awry, and what happens? > His girl gets locked in the closet, food and water oumoked in indtanrl, slid under the door at semi-reg intervals.

What the kid is asking for is far-reaching; lt's "imtemse," in the Thames, in a tent, for Chrissakes.

So there was the old standard love; polished almonds plucked from the very rough tide, (Do my selections and their airing sequence make a kind of sense, I mean, TO YOU? They always have to me, but of this nature, unprecedented.) His big brother does not like his girl, doesn't approve of her, and THAT kiss of death can last long and hurt aplenty, certainly nothing that numbnuts over here could tell from smelling.

MASSIVE ATTACK = Not massive, not an attack. Your thoughts?

I'monna tan y'hide, I'monna tan it and tan it, gonna Dan Tan-it. Kochalka, Kochalka, Kochalka.
E maj > D-flat minor. Bah-doo-ba-doo-ba-doo-ba.

In the midst of playing all this black metal, Castleheads had NO TROUBLE instantaneously plucking out a song from the latest LP by Yellow Eyes (and there I am, quoted on the page—schwet!)—"Cabin Filled With Smoke and Flies." Great title, great song. What else? Gorduw OH HELL YES. Hydravion (a full band project (1977) by the enigmatic Philippe Besombes, of Besombes-Rizet), Klaus Schulze/Angst --[Angst trailer]-- (thanks, mighty SARZANNA!) ...new Hive Mind, Eeuwig (late of Smoke.) --[Zwaertgevegt label]--

He must explain how he got in. His way in—what was it? Surely it was not through me, as my pockets remain empty and turned out.

...And I'll add a few favorites of my own: the new Witchbeam cassette (also of the legendary ensemble Telecult Powers, the latter, the first artist to ever perform live on My Castle of Quiet, back in 2009), Shadow Musick Vol. 1; and the incredible new White Medal full-length, Guthmers Hahl.

It's refreshing to do a show again; I get restless if I put it down too long, though this time the lengthy gap was but for terrible illness, which demanded much recovery time. My muse must be stoked, stroked, and channels must be channeled. Demons exorcised, and all this wonderful / weird / dark and aggressive music that clutters my head frequently must be LET OUT. A discovery a day, so to speak, sometimes literally.

Always at odds with the idea of an omniscient power beyond reason; the vast, vocal majority of those who espouse such a belief are ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssnakes, liars, or worse; YET, the undeniable need in all mankind for some reason to get up in the morning, PK Dick's "Pink Light," which finally found him, or so he said, and maybe it was just a keen sense, box-cutter sharp perception, or some combination of the aforementioned with amphetamines. Where do I go? Where is my pink light? I've just now passed a dream; loosing out of my psyche as I sit here, extraordinarily sleep-deprived at the moment.

All I can say, mostly, is that it felt good, didn't feel bad, to be in Castle Country again, which feels like home, and WFMU in general has always been one of my few homes away from home; a gathering pod for the idiosyncratic, sometimes quirky, unique minds, focused tastes of the extreme diggers, the weirdos and the deep music collectors. I started listening to the station in the mid-to-late 1970s, hearing The Residents and Jandek, among others, for the first time, wondering what it was all about while simultaneously knowing that I needed to be a part of it. And though my involvement with the station has been either very on or very off (I joined in 1984, doing a weekly show straight through 1999 w/o a break; took a complete break, almost, from Feb. 1999 until June 2009, with only sporadic fill-in shows, the number very gradually increasing as I eased my way back in and sculpted the My Castle of Quiet format. Then again taking this past Summer off as some family obligations/responsibilities loomed.

If you're in NY, or planning to be, make sure to join us next weekend for our annual record fair, Fri.-Sun., more info HERE.

I hope to rejoin you on WFMU's weekly air in December; in the meantime, I'll be filling in again, Castle show #200 (!) this time, in Martha's slot on Black-Friday night, 29-30 November @ mitternacht. Thank you for your kind and enthusiastic indulgence!

POSSESSION AND ROT.

I thought it was time to post, what with some significant events upcoming, or practically happening NOW. Most timely is that My Castle of Quiet will be filling in for Diane's K. FUNMACH., this coming Thursday, noon-3, on WFMU, of course. A previous fill-in scheduled some weeks ago had to be commuted to the talented Jeff Mullan, as I was still groping for breath, more still in the recovery phase from pneumonia than I at the time realized. So, especially this past season, where I myself opted to be (at least temporarily) on fill-in only status, I was really itching to do a show—you MIGHT say I had a "hard on for love"—you might not. I cannot resist even the most circuitous opportunity to reference Nick Cave and The Bad Seeds.

So, filling in I will be, tugging along perhaps even MORE than the usual six hours' worth of material. I need a day-long opportunity to stretch out, one might say. Stretching out above is the android love companion from The Booby Hatch, a movie I pretty much fast-forwarded through, and for some reason I was more amused than annoyed by that. I'm honestly not even sure that title was in my Netflix queue, I think I was TROLLED by a Netflix shipping centre employee. ...And do you ever think about how many words have become action verbs, just within the past few years? THAT I can get behind the annoyance canon for! News items are now "trending," and there's some "girl in a box" thing going around the NY-based portion of the Internet, and I don't get it, haha, which makes me feel old, but not really—I'm sure it sucks, and the "reveal" (now a NOUN) wouldn't be worthwhile anyway.

Bandcamp continues to be a great resource for new music in general, for metal and its offshoots in specific. Just for example, Communion Nick recommended a newer grind band called Cut Your Throat; I did the now-becoming-customary "artist name + bandcamp" search and hit upon a full album, ready to download on the cheap, and it's been the star of the car for weeks and weeks now. (On the other hand, maybe Nick sent me the link; I can't recall, honestly, but welcome to the adventure that is short-term memory loss!) And even at those moments when hitting upon something recommended by a friend, spied on YouTube or elsewhere, seems at its darkest, that bandcamp search yields fruit, even if it's just a track or two featured on a label's page, rather than the artist's. If I hadn't been able to hear MORE Gorduw after stumbling upon THIS, and especially THIS (!!!!)—things were going to get ugly.

I've spent the last week plus watching Captain Jack Harkness on Torchwood make out with all manner of people, personally lusting after Gwen "Kooopuh," and feeling generally confused. There's a sci-fi nerd's monkeyspank agenda if ever there was one (but not mine—oh, come off it, I'm too lazy, and real women will come along eventually—and this bus stop looks as though Rita star Mille Dinesen may happen along any moment now.) (Better than "I coulda had a V8," is the "I'm on Danish television, a star, and a check should be arriving in due course.")

Another important point is that Prison Tatt Records will have a three-day table at the WFMU record fair, Nov. 22-24 (more info); no more of this Saturday-only dipping one's toe action!~ All in-print label titles, distro items and MORE will be available at prices reduced from our Web rates. Sales have been in a bit of a slump; sometimes a week passes by with no orders; that said, the at-the-ready, grab-it-and-walk-away having saved $2—$3 should provide some incentive, as well as two new releases DROPPED (like the proverbial puppy's balls) by Sesso Violento (Molestador; actually available NOW—$17 ppd within the USA; PayPal to wmmberger@comcast.net) and Smoke (improvised black metal from the Netherlands, both their first vinyl issue, and their swan song.) ...And as I look around the house (aka Prison Tatt HQ), I stumble upon more items acquired in limited trade; all sorts of goodies—tapes, 7"s, LPs, CDs, CD-Rs etc.—things you may think I sold out of, so you didn't even bother to ask, but you'd have been wrong.

So...salient points—fill-in this coming Thursday noon-3 p.m. ET (thanks, Diane!) and come up like the de-boned mother malicious from Ju-On and say hello at the Prison Tatt table at the Record Fair; even better buy something. (Which reminds me, I saw something that looked like a repress, or possible redo of the Uzumaki manga; unfortunately, little boy would not allow me to stop moving and actually check it out—ah...such is single parenting.)

There's been so much great new (at least to me; perhaps you as well) music come into my life during the last few weeks, I dare not even go there.) Take it down a notch, Kevin Eldon, so I can think. I was born to ramble. ...And in conclusion, I'll just add that I'm hopeful that the needs of myself and the WFMU schedule will be concomitant, such that a return of the My Castle of Quiet program to the station's weekly air will be in the offing; it remains to be seen, still weeks away, but as always and forever, thank YOU for your everlasting support!