regally creepy ... this is just the kind of music that can coax one out of the banal fog of everyday existence

Lots of folks loved our playlist photo this week (reproduced above.) Many thanks to longtime listener and supporter SiHV for contributing.

Positive, and/or quizzical comments, and/or odd descriptions for the early Doors' "Go Insane," | a long track by Wraiths | and The Gate from Vomit Dreams

Many thanks! My Castle of Quiet radio returns in two weeks.

Click on "Dead Red" to hear this past weekend's Castle show archive.

Resonant.

Subsequent to compiling the My Castle of Quiet 2013 year's-end film and music list, I saw several films that, had I seen them earlier, would have fattened out that list most definitely, being the kind of films that surprise low (or lowered) expectations, and leave the viewer reflecting and contemplating these works of cinema far beyond the initial viewing. This resonance, by and large, is often how I measure a film's "greatness."

They are: Monsters | You're Next | Deceptive Practice: The Mysteries and Mentors of Ricky Jay | Right At Your Door | Sunset Strip ... (IMDb links)

Monsters (see image above), from 2010, is a most-definitely-unsung subtle and clever road movie, following two characters (a freelance photographer, and his boss' daughter) through a "contaminated zone" between Mexico and the U.S., an area where large, extraterrestrial creatures have bred and inhabited the landscape, after a UFO crash a few years earlier. Fans of both road movies and intelligent science-fiction tales will find this feature quite satisfying and engrossing from start to finish, depicting both the standard of corruption and "palm-greasing" that still reigns in third-world nations, and applied to this most-tragic of circumstances, as well as borrowing a page from the equally smart Cloverfield of 2008. I don't want to give too much away, but the viewer is left with the feeling similar to that of the 2009 box-office hit District 9, that these creatures are simply so large, powerful and/or different from us, that their mere existence endangers humans, though at the same time, their "intention" is not necessarily to be harmful to humans (unlike the monster in Cloverfield) and simple coexistence is a challenge, and therefore met with the predictable shock-and-awe of a military response. The story unfolds, as a believable love story quite naturally evolves between the protagonists, though it takes a decided back seat to the overall moral "message" of the film. Fans of my year-end film list for sure will not be disappointed.

You're Next, surprising on nearly all levels and loaded with action and several adroit plot twists, comes on like the now-familiar, home-under-siege tale (comparable, on its face, perhaps, to something like The Purge.) Directed by the talented Adam Wingard (V/H/S) and cast with a string of indie talent (AJ Bowen, Amy Seimetz, Joe Swanberg, Ti West and dazzling newcomer Sharni Vinson), You're Next is a fast, pulsating horror tale, and considering it's not at all a supernatural or hyper-realistic story, it rocked my world unlike most slasher/killer films, a genre of which I've just kind of had my personal fill. ...Having gathered for a parental anniversary party, a wealthy family begin to get picked off one-by-one, but not only is one of the guests unusually good at self-defense tactics, but the plot twists and turns are so genuinely and smartly woven into the narrative, that You're Next must have killed at the box office (no joke intended), considering the word-of-mouth it likely generated, weighed against what it probably cost to make. Writer Simon Barrett and director Wingard collaborated not only on some V/H/S 1 and 2 segments, but also on the brilliant, understated and underrated A Horrible Way to Die (scroll down to my 2011 favorites here), also starring Bowen and Seimetz as its principals, and inhabiting the same space as far as rich and unexpected characterizations, and neat plot twists. My only question now is how do I get my hands on the original score—a bubbling, 80s-style electronic suspense-builder.

Deceptive Practice... is an immediately engrossing and economically rendered quasi-biography documentary of sleight-of-hand/magician/writer Ricky Jay—his world, his personal history, his influences and mentors. Jay came up from his humble roots as a Jewboy in suburban NJ, through the 70s and 80s as a long-haired card-flipper playing between rock acts, both in nightclubs and on TV programs like The Midnight Special and The Dick Cavett Show. Despite being a legendarily crusty curmudgeon, the film is packed solid with great stories, anecdotes and quotes, from journalists, colleagues and friends, regarding Jay's talent, wisdom and respect (both that which he commands and affords others), shared with the public via Broadway shows and almost-countless film and TV roles (one may recall a particularly notable X Files episode starring Jay, and David Mamet's House of Games, just to cite two very-memorable examples.) I could go on, but it's best you just see Deceptive Practice: The Mysteries and Mentors of Ricky Jay, all regardless of whether you have a particularly acute interest in card magic or Ricky himself (mine was middling before I saw the film, and I was nonetheless both moved emotionally and thoroughly educated and entertained.)

Right At Your Door is a jarring, realistic depiction of how it might go down were a series of dirty bombs set off in downtown Los Angeles, and how one couple copes with this very doomed and relatively hopeless scenario. Made great both by its economic script, and a brilliant performance by Rory Cochrane, a woefully unsung talent, who you may remember as Freck in Richard Linklater's A Scanner Darkly (for my money the most spot-on cinematic rendering to date of a Philip K. Dick novel, and one that, unlike most films based on Dick novels, thoughtfully renders the mounting paranoia and consummate intelligence of the author's challenging prose.) Here, Cochrane plays a decidedly non-Freckian character, a loving husband who must haplessly regard the governmental reaction to such an epically proportioned tragedy/emergency. Right At Your Door will shake up the viewer, and is most definitely not an "easy watch," pulling no punches with its both epically and personally tragic subject matter. It's great performances, writing and direction that save Right At Your Door from simply being a huge bummer and instead make the film a challenge well worth meeting.

Finally, Sunset Strip is a haunting, charming, sad-yet-exciting history of those few most-happening blocks of L.A.'s Sunset Boulevard, starting in the early 20th century and rolling until present day, with warts-and-all commentary from Johnny Depp, Kenneth Anger, Paul Mooney, Kim Fowley, Steve Jones, the members of X, various actors, journalists, entrepreneurs, hair-metal bands, Peter Fonda, Mickey Rourke, Hugh Hefner, countless rockers and gangsters—all the sin, glory and engrossing history of the various characters, from Mickey Cohen to Jim Morrison, from Lou Adler to the Osbournes, River Phoenix and Miss Pamela—the small people, the larger-than-lifes like John Belushi, the cocaine, the tattoos, The Garden of Allah, The House of Francis, the Chateau Marmont, the Rainbow, Tower Records, Sammy Davis, Jr., the nightclub-Rat Pack days, the sex alleys, the 60s street-riots and arrests, Hustler HQ, garage rock, hair metal, biker bars, Rodney on the ROQ, Led Zeppelin's notorious debauchery and groupie abuse, The Viper Room—those who survived, and those who didn't. In general, I've often considered this locale of uniquely American history, sin and lack of subtlety, to be a place that I personally never needed to visit, but the thoroughly intense and vital tenor of this documentary both intrigued me and turned my head around.

Something died at the Castle outpost.

Pink Floyd ... the rumor was true! (—it's a soundtrack, ed.) | Sensations' Fix reissue | Robert Beatty film score for Takeshi Murata | Paysage d'Hiver

Click on the "distressed" photo, a still from Gerald Slota's Fable, a short film for which I did the original score, to see the playlist and hear the archive for this week's Castle. (Not sure any of my sounds are in that trailer, but it does give a good, cohesive impression of the film and its many strange scenes.)

Thanks for listening! Catch you next Saturday, before The Castle takes a 1-wk break.

the tiimes are dire

BLACK SABBATH, always (Vol 4, and tales of cocaine decay in Los Angeles) | ANDORKAPPEN (continuing our twisted-L.A. theme; live Andorkappen & Cherry Point 2005) | vintage BATHORY | PANTHER MODERN (from the never-released MASTERPIECE Satanic Logic—if Brian Z. (of T.O.M.B. / Dreadlords) is behind it, I'm on it...)

Enjoy this week's archive by clicking on the image above, from Barbet Scheroeder's Maitresse. (trailer)

2013 in Review; Film and Music

"Top tens," in music at least, are for me impossible. We're just going to have to build a bigger island. Films, I did manage to whittle down to a neat deck, though it was purely by accident, and probably more than a bit of forgetting. At least you can be sure that these celluloid selections are all wheat, no chaff—that is, if you've followed these posts of mine for the last few years and have gleaned something positive from them, and / or have an accentuated appreciation of the My Castle of Quiet radio show, and / or didn't buy into Ozzy singing "God Is Dead" this year, because um, "we know he was never alive in the first place" is the most metal response to that proposition.


Vampire Diary - (A feature from 2007, not at all related to the post-Twilight television-teen-romance vampire series; I even had a massive hurdle online just trying to find a presentable image of the film poster.) This Vampire Diary is a video one, originally conceived by our female protagonist as a minor exposé about "weekend vampires," playtime blood-drinkers who go clubbing on weekends and occasionally drink one another's blood for sport. Into this somewhat silly aggregation steps a real vampire, an alluring, mysterious, sexy woman, who not only doesn't eat, but must take out real victims in order to survive. I'm always on the lookout for effective employs of the handheld-camera subgenre, and this is yet another clever take on the "everyone has a camera" societal shift of the last decade plus, and the immediacy of handheld is smartly used to arresting effect, proving that are always new tricks, however worn the basket of the original idea. A romantic relationship develops between our heroine-filmmaker and the vampire woman, while the former's friends disappear one by one, somewhat unmysteriously. This is a colorful, sexy, but also very bleak film, while being a modern and comparatively cohesive narrative on what happens when you take in a flatmate who films you in your sleep. The metaphor of vampirism as addiction has never been more alive than in this story as well, and as the desperation escalates, the viewer gets sucked in to the ladies'  impossible situation. Though approx. six years old, I just viewed the film this year for the first time, then watched it twice more, and it seemed more than worthy of inclusion on this list, both in that a primary criteria for inclusion here is innovation, and also because of the way "Vicki the vampire" streaks the cityscape in a desperate search for victims, reminding me of a composite of women I dated and/or knew in the 80s and 90s all around NYC, holding up a somewhat bent mirror to my own life at one particular time.

Evil Dead (remake) - Everything horror coming out of Hollywood these days, barring the exceptional few, is a remake of a 70s or 80s genre title, and I find myself sore and decrying the sheer lack of anyone willing to "bank" a fresh horror concept in tinseltown. (not to say it doesn't occasionally happen.) That said, with expectations on the floor, I saw the Evil Dead remake, endorsed by the original Tapert-Raimi creative team (obviously a plus), and found myself quite pleasantly thrilled and genuinely surprised. It's not only that it stands freshly on its own, but were the "new" Evil Dead developed in a vacuum, it would be many times more appreciable, and to a generation who did NOT grow up appreciating the Evil Deads I and II, much like those who heard Bikini Kill with virgin ears never graced by an X Ray Spex record, this film delivers a pretty big boom, especially considering the utter formulaic crap that passes nowadays for a scary movie. There's a female protagonist, so the whole issue of replacing/recasting Bruce Campbell's Ash is cleverly skirted around and rendered irrelevant, and the whole piece is quite artfully shot, for maximum, colorful bursts of horror pleasure. I was impressed, and beyond the whole issue of exceeding low expectations, the new Evil Dead is actually just plain good fun, standing on its own as genuinely enjoyable, and chillingly inspired, with more than a few dynamite scenes.

John Dies at the End - After making his ultra-impressive cinematic "comeback," now over 10 years ago, with the creepy-comic Bubba Ho-Tep, Phantasm creator Don Coscarelli brings us this ever-rolling, comic-book tale that's perhaps equal parts Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure as it is the director's own classic, Phantasm. John Dies... is super-fun, and easy to watch over and over—hi-speed, surreal, druggy, violent, charming and hilarious—like those teen comedies that give you a warm fuzzy on weekend afternoons, but with a forceful wallop of sci-fi/horror action and excitement. It never takes itself too seriously, so fans of this list be warned; while not a brooding genre film, John Dies... nonetheless underscores my respect and admiration for a director who creates wild worlds of colorful adventure, extreme departures from any director's horror-world but his own. Originality and unpredictability are on display with ideas to spare, so where many genre films can be written as they roll by deep fans while watching, this one is refreshingly fat with ideas, such that even the most cynical and critical horror cinéastes can relax a bit and just enjoy themselves. Coscarelli, though he does not strike often, definitely strikes again.

The Pack - Left off the list for the last few years, by mere oversight, is this sickening French horror thriller from 2010 that continues the French-speaking tradition of tales of terror that comically villainize the country folk, who must surely be getting up to some lurid, nefarious stuff out there in the muddy sticks (per movies like Sheitan and Calvaire.) That's certainly the case with this mother and son team, the mother played by Yolande Moreau, a veteran of some excellent French cinema that's way outside this genre. To say much at all would be to give too much away, but it's fair to say that there are some other family members who need special attention and care, feeding, as it were, and that the concept of golem (plural) is played with to truly disturbing affect. I'm always a fan of a movie that keeps you guessing right up until the very end, leaving the "triumph" of the protagonist hanging in question for as long as possible, and The Pack foots that bill will excellence. Genuinely scary, thrilling, and thoroughly icky.





22 Mei (22nd of May) - Another work of cutting-edge cinematic cleverness from the creator of the great Ex Drummer, and though this film is worlds away, it features much of the same cast, many of whom may be unrecognizable to fans of Ex D. This story will not thrill with high-impact ultra-violence, frenetic camera and sexual, punk-rock viscera the way its predecessor did, but it's in such distinction in story and essence from the director's first feature that it neatly avoids comparison, and is an excellent piece of filmmaking, cleverly skirting the issue of a "sophomore slump," as it is simply THAT different. The story centers around a bomb blast in a shopping mall, and walks several victims of the tragedy (including the bomber himself) through a dreamy, confusing after- and before-life, showing the musings, heartbreaks, and myriad roles of random strangers thrust together into sudden, arresting death by a terrorist tragedy. Some welcome death, others refuse to accept it, and in the end of course they all must, but the ride is brazenly human and dramatically laid bare.

A Field in England - I can't say enough good things about Ben Wheatley; he's pretty much my favorite filmmaker of right now, and I eagerly await his every release. Wheatley has a particular way of pacing music, scenes and editing, that is so distinctive, it defines him like a sax player's tone and phrasing, and is besides a joy to behold. This basic style has followed the director through all the many types of film that he's made; from the ultra-black comedy of Sightseers or Down Terrace, to the discomfiting terror of Kill List, to the absurd, almost Flann-O'Brien-esque A Field in England. A Field... features as one of its leads the actor Reece Shearsmith, known worldwide for his multicharacter-roles in the BBC 4 series The League of Gentlemen (please PLEASE not to be confused AT ALL with the Sean Connery film The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen), and consequently plays out much like a classically absurd League sketch, only extended and fleshed out with the seriousness and general gravitas of any Ben Wheatley film. It's all at once historically alien, profoundly odd, gross and hilarious. The film follows the journey over land, by foot, of four deserters of various stripes (and eventually, a pivotal fifth) during the English Civil War, with all the filth and superstition of that era unflinchingly played (as far as I know, of course), and the scenes are paced with some lovely English folk songs, and it's altogether woven into quite the perfect film. Shearsmith, as well as Michael Smiley and Richard Glover, shine. I dare/need not say more, besides enjoy!

Only God Forgives - Nicolas Winding Refn is THE FILMMAKER, like Scorsese in the early 1970s—on fire, creatively speaking—the man is hot, and no one really knows exactly what he's going to do next; there are those who speculate, or like me, just wait to be bowled over. With Valhalla Rising, Refn proved that he can break hard away from any sort of genre film, or fan expectations, while still making a story of great pathos and overreaching ideas of what filmgoers had come to expect from him (most notably the Pusher series of intense, suspenseful, violent crime dramas.) The Pusher movies are exceptional, with disturbing, almost painfully realistic characterizations; the weak and the strong, endangered children and the adults available and able to rescue them from grim lives immersed in and effected by the drug world and its absentee parents (just an example; each of the four Pusher films has a life of its own and characters unique to the tale that's told) But in Only God Forgives, the child is grown, and it's a cruel, somewhat insane, oppressive, sexually dominant and downright evil mother who controls her sons, transplanted as they are in Bangkok, wildly unpredictable and running the family drug trade there. Ryan Gosling proves his versatility yet again, playing hard against type, as a weak-willed quiet type who must rise to the occasion of avenging his brother's killing while suffering a constant hailstorm of verbal abuse from Kristen Scott-Thomas as his truly horrible mother, and simultaneously ever-mounting challenges from the local psycho-sadist police chief. All in all, this is another wild-ass Refn film that will not disappoint fans of the director's other work.

Red, White and Blue - The word "gritty" gets thrown around a lot these days, a dramatic subgenre whose designation is now a casual part of the Netflix vocabulary, but few modern dramas bear out the grit as brazenly as this film, set in suburban Texas amongst the hard-drinkng, hard-working, poor, sick and disillusioned. The three lives of a sullen, loosely moraled young woman, an aspiring rocker whose mother is suffering from cancer, and a somewhat frightening, mysterious war veteran, connect in the most unfortunate of ways, and where this film seems almost meditative and brooding at its outset, your "where is this all going" feeling will gradually and thoroughly be replaced with sheer terror, and an utter lack of saving, or "redemption" for all parties, as things go from generally bad to shockingly awful. That said, this story is not without meaning or purpose, though extremely harrowing, and genuinely upsetting, even to a seasoned viewer of extreme cinema such as myself. It's Red, White and Blue's depth of dramatic field that warrants its inclusion on this list, and places it miles away from what's often referred to as "torture porn." There's a story to be told here, though it's not an easy one. Serious warning; this film is not for those of weak constitution, or those on the fence about violent, harrowing cinema.

Los Bastardos - "The Bastards" are two Mexican-immigrant men, squeezing out a meager existence just north of the border in California, socially isolated except from one another, and with seemingly no place to go in the nighttime. They roam the parks together, sleep under the Los Angeles stars, and jump into pickup trucks during the days with shady white men when duty calls for cheap, day laborers. It's a bit slow to piece together at first, but what gradually emerges is that the men have somewhat reluctantly accepted a violent crime-for-hire, and at about this time, we also start to parallel-view the victims, moving through their own, sullen daily lives. While the overall atmosphere of Los Bastardos is exceptionally bleak, it's not a story without strong purpose, nor is it a story that could be easily tossed out and never told. As it becomes clear what's likely going to happen, the drama amps up at a deceptively slow pace, utterly tense and uneasy. Los Bastardos will likely linger with you for days, a mood of unease and horrific injustice on all fronts and for all concerned; a disconcerting little movie, that will haunt the viewer like the best of 70s Herzog, or something like Wenders' The Goalie's Anxiety...; an unsettling tragedy that's not for everyone.

Europa Report - An utterly different kind of science-fiction film, which when compared to its contemporary cousins in the genre, will seem very "real"—if that makes sense. The acting is remarkably understated, and the craft that serves as the centerpiece of the film, the "Europa One," is as complex as any creatively imagined spaceship, though something about not only the ship but the entire film is more tactile than the shiny, CG-laden sci-fi films we've become used to seeing. The fantasy here is much less distant; we feel all the switches and hands-on operation, and multiple cameras of varying angles and quality make for a very "believable" experience, at least as the genre goes—in other words, nothing is particularly glossy or "marvelous" in a special-effects way, making for a very "smart"-feeling, radically different kind of space-journey; a tale which uses tragic technical errors, unexpected discoveries, and a general and contagious fear of the unknown for all of its tension-building, rather than the threat of a race of CG-rendered, bloodthirsty aliens intent on human destruction. I've seen this film twice thus far, and on second viewing Europa Report had more of an emotional impact, whereas my first view was spent just taking in all the style and visuals, so radically different are they from modern genre convention. Think of Europa Report as a contemporary equivalent of moody classics of the late 60s and early 1970s, films that came in the wake of 2001: A Space Odyssey, that were as much concerned with conveying a feeling as they were with being impressive visually, features like Marooned, Countdown and Silent Running.

2013 Music List - a mere 55 entries! ...

Vein - ...Into The Vein | Hoax (multiple releases) | Akitsa / Ash Pool split LP | Wretched Worst - Funeral Burning EP | Cadaver In Drag - Raw Child; Breaking and Entering | Haare - Forward To Insanity; A Split Second In Eternity | Black Scorpio Underground-Werewolf Jerusalem split LP | Slumber Room - Slumber Room EP | Kr Grauwacke (all 3 releases) | Murano / Carter, Safityya, Les Conversions, and all Kelippah relases | Vardan (multiple releases) | Anwech (multiple releases) | Volksmorg - s/t CS | Cincinnatus C. (multiple releases) | Kuxan Suum LP | Medusa LP reissue | Hive Mind  - Like a Shallow Plague...CD issue; But Mine Own Vineyard I Have Not Kept ‎CS and digital issue; Live YouTube sets! | Ghast - Terrible Cemetery | Oppression - Silence! CS | Teatro Satanico - Rainbow Tape | Compactor - Desensitization Reprocessing | Ash Borer - Bloodlands | Nate Young - Regression Binding Confusion | Actuary - split w/ Merzbow | Agathocles - recent splits | Lord Time - Drink My Tears | Cliff Martinez - Only God Forgives OST | Raspberry Bulbs - Deformed Worship | Cadaver Eyes - Mesarveem Lihiyot Covshim | Inappropriate King Live - Datboonbat | Bran (...) Pos - Den of Ordure and Iridescence | Husere Grav - You Are Transparent | Deaf Kids - I Am The Sickness | Psychic Limb - Jamaica | The Atrocity Exhibit - What Time The Hidden Death?; Grind Over Matter (Live) | Hivesmasher - Gutter Choir | Lea Bertucci - Resonance Shapes | v/a - Buried Terror #2 (Sabbathid Recs. Japan) | Wargrinder - Erased Seeds of Ignorance | OK Putrid - God God Alabakdannagsba | Fadensonnen - PD3 | Onkunde - De Eeuwige Vrede | Castevet - Obsian | Giant Claw - Max Mutant | Spettro Family - Chi Omega 7" | Cornflakes 808 - 12" | Verglas - Excommunion 7" | Malkuth - Hathir Sakta | Death Factory - Chilling Impressions | The Throat; Netherlands-based cassette label of black metal and noise | White Medal - Guthmers Hahl LP | Andorkappen - Columbarium CS | Deafest - Through Wood and Fog EP | Cara Neir - Portals to a Better, Dead World | Yellow Eyes - Hammer of Night.

quarter to 8 this guy emerges from a 20h hibernation to a scary world of scary music

Intention v. Action; Spanakopita Foundation v. Berger, both 2013. District court of Essexxx (dream on!) County. Insists on saying "spanakopita" instead of "spinach pie." (Not me.)

These are nerdy, predictably facial-haired 'merican guys, looking in all the wrong/right places for an Asian girlfriend, and asking "Where is MY ___ ___?" What is their secret? Or lack of one?

Anyway, I'm miserable. My life is over, as much as it continues. Death by perpetually broken heart.
My son will now go, and leave me in the mess that I'm in. To be continued, maybe.

Thanks for listening. Playlist comments favored:  Raspberry Bulbs (pretty cool that not only is the Live on MCoQ session listed there on Metal Archives, but they've also used Tracy's photo manipulation for the band entry!) | Castevet | Kavra

To listen, read the playlist and comments, click on the, um, girl, up above.

My place in history now somewhat cemented, do I have to go on? Can I die now, please? PLEASE?!

could this be the gateway? have I arrived?

 

If a monster hath been created, 'tis thee that raised the My Castle of Quiet show up on its hydraulic platform, raised it high in the midst of an electrical storm, and well, as they say the rest, is histoire.  What a great way to be received upon my return to weekly broadcasting. Castleheads rule!

I've been wondering about the state of constant peril, and why it seems to entertain us so much. The most popular and perhaps most-innovative TV programs, mostly Cable-network-based dramas, but not entirely—shows like Breaking Bad, American Horror Story; even comparatively innocuous fare like the modern-day Get Smart-type show Chuck, differ greatly from the programs I grew up watching in that story turnover is almost mercilessly fast—the main characters remain in a state of almost constant peril; the danger of murder, the discovery of their illegal activities, and lovers embrace for only a moment before tragic separations. WHY are we so entertained by this? Is it the mere speed of our "information age" dictating that everything else must move that much faster as well? Or do we just get off on observing a life and/or lifestyle that would lead any ordinary or even extraordinary person rapidly into nervous breakdown? ...Unfortunately, perhaps, I'm old enough to recall when a VERY GOOD PREMISE was enough to carry a TV show, and with that premise established, plug in different scenarios and peripheral characters every week to keep it interesting; change up the "bad guys," one adventure per week, that swirls around that core premise, but at the episode's end, arrives back at that core premise, where at least everything is basically "ok."

Imagine if Breaking Bad had been done in the 70s-80s-90s, and how different it might have been. If memory serves, in very beginning episodes, the threat of very imminent discovery and the need to kill, simply in order to keep oneself alive, presents itself almost immediately; is a school teacher, with cancer, manufacturing meth with a reckless former student not enough for us? What a great idea! Couldn't they just have rocked a successful, semi-quiet operation for a season or two, or would the show have failed miserably, by extension suggestion that the lives of most illegal drug manufacturers/dealers would be too mundane/boring to carry a television show? I thought we craved "reality," but that's not how it seems; we crave instead a beefed-up, exaggerated, manufactured reality, one that could literally blow at any second.

What's wrong with us? Not to say that these aren't entertaining shows, and in some cases great (like Breaking Bad), but what happened to building a house and just living in it for a while? In a world where 43-second YouTube clips dictate our reality, maybe constant peril is the only thing that could possibly entertain most people now. The neo-realist, human-drama-based cinema and television I was raised on (which today might be considered "mumblecore") must seem horribly draggy by comparison. Grist for the mill, but I did really love Kojak in its day. ...

In other news, your playlist comments this week were inspired by:

Malkuth (at the new Kelippah Records site, with my own promotional/review copy as accompaniment, hope you enjoy the read) (Malkuth live Castle session, 2010) | Black Cilice | Verglas (Castle session, 7.2013) | Vetëvrakh | Sale Freux | Two Years On Welfare (live Castle session 2010 and MCoQ live vimeo set)

TTHHHHHAAAANNKKKK YYYOOOUUUU for listening! Catch up with you again this Saturday, and your appreciation is much appreciated. ...

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!