Pentacycloops

November 17th, 2017

more love for love low

November 12th, 2017

found on http://mithratemplezine.com/marrachbad-poetchtin-mara-love-low-album-2017/

”Lithuanian musician and visual artist, Martin Rach, exists outside of populist genre movements. Whilst this, his third release for Attenuation Circuit, encompasses aspects of noise, free jazz, and avant-garde electronics, it flits and flirts with these definitions. Never succumbing to the trappings of one convention or another. These are love songs from another place. Specifically, the other place found in Twin Peaks. It is as if the red-suited dwarf has been reinterpreting Sun Ra’s interplanetary sounds backwards, forwards, and then backwards again. Before slowing them right down and allowing a Parisian Attila Csihar to croon through blue smoke.

There is a weariness to the Mistress of Pink Noise, it suggests an end-of-night, resigned cigarette as stools are upturned on sticky bars. Languid apathy permeates every vowel that seeps from Rach’s throat. Thief of a Dayhowever, is a frenzied shriek of brass. Scattered broken beats vie for attention. Dubby bass lingers and gushes. There is talk of bad poetry. On As Lovers Do the percussion is namely swinging brushes upon cymbals and concentrated handclaps over the top of reversed electronic synths.

This is jazz deconstructed. Saxophonic whimpers. Thick lumps of bass swipe between the coy brass leads. Then things become a little feral and demented, all the while being underpinned by those eerie semi-whispered vocals. If it is broken industrial noise, then it is sleazy with it. There are misfires of machinery and lowered lights. This is something like a burlesque show in the 1940s gas station of the afore-mentioned fictional town. I half expect a menacing woodsman to leer “Got a light?””

found on http://mithratemplezine.com/marrachbad-poetchtin-mara-love-low-album-2017/

rain out that pours

September 30th, 2017

 

 

 

https://emerge.bandcamp.com/album/love-low

 

 

 

 

sneaking my way into Dalius Naujo Orchestra

September 20th, 2017

 

 

 

 

trans:love low

September 8th, 2017

text taken from Yeah I Know It Sucks

The sensual mistress of Pink Noise gets her own song, one in which saxophone, romantic words and sparks of noise twirl around each other, it is a combo that feels as if they had gone to the ball together for a sensible session of alternative ballroom dancing among the borders of music. It’s definitely a honorable romantic session, one that smells of sex, steamy noises in a certain intimacy that could only be found in strange romances happening in very bizarre fetish like fairytales. I dig it, will you dig it too? I don’t mean that we go together outside in the garden and bury it in the ground deeply; I mean it’s something you could hear and enjoy.

But don’t worry, this release got more stuff up its sleeves. Mainly a track named ‘low leaves of summertime’, maybe this will get you into that romantic alternative mood that I feel this stuff is taking me. Maybe (if you are close) we could hands together while listening to this one, it really has that hold hands, sit on each other’s lap kind of feel. The noisy bits might have seemed to have taken a backseat, giving more space to turbulently played saxophone, a low tripping jazzy drum and that poetic voice that will melt your heart and inspire your senses to suddenly wear a perfume & write love letters. I don’t know; the powers of romantic stuff never have seemed to amaze me until now!

Yeah, like “thief of a day” this release seems to be able to steal your heart, dips it in chocolate and licks it off in a romantic licking session. Few things are known by these creators who are responsible for this session, but just hearing the music you know that they are onto something, by jumping on a format that seems to be unformatable! With the third track steaming in my ears, the group throws in a whole lot of energy; the sax shoots out its semen, the drum kicks hard or goes even in squirt mood with a full on blast & the underlying noise feels like naught sex that will leave no corner of the room untouched. The only one keeping it cool is the provider of the words, he is like a cool ruler, unchallenged by the steamy scenes he just provides the romantic worldly sounds like a talented writer lighted by candlelight.

What happens next is “As lovers do”, the last session in which you might have the last attempt to get romantically involved (or simply touched) by this release. It will not be very hard (no pun intended!) as the music just shimmers its love bubbles into your ears; if you’d allowed it to play in such intimate ways that is. It might finger you there, pleasantly, whispering in your brain, kissing your mind and somehow slap each buttock for the right sound and raw sensual tension. It might make you feel like a melting sex kitten, hopelessly caressed and aroused by the music, the material that you haven’t had heard or experienced before but are now enjoying in a dirty session of self discovery… This is the sound of romantic love and sweet sex for the ears, so if you need some of that, please don’t hesitate to come over and click that fine link at that bubbly bottom over here:

https://emerge.bandcamp.com/album/love-low

 

 

 

 

 

something blue

August 13th, 2017

 

 

there’s a part in life where

things are broken and torn

and unlike the dress you wear

the needles and threads don’t work there

 

yet, you’d better die of a heart attack

then of a heart retreat

 

reworking your body that gets

endlessly beat

 

and so you repeat

like a child with the heat

 

you get to know nothing

in hope of learning everything

 

the part of a second life

that consists of illusions and dreams

gets reshaped into logics

that can’t be beared no matter

how big your truck is

 

yet, you’d better die of a brain failure

than of a failure to dream

 

reopening the space between

the order of thought and

the anarchy of its means

 

and so you let loose off all

that seems

like a crazy person on a bus

arguing the case for things

that never been

 

as your desire to feed the hunger

makes you into restless wander

 

there’s a thing that works between parts

that makes the connect of things apart

it collects the first life

and infuses the second

bad poets of all times

have done sufficiently enough

to have called it ‘heart’

 

whatever words and proportions

you want to use to describe it

will fail at the moment

they become unparted

 

yet, you continue on harping

go on on the endless departing

 

imagining the grass that’s greener

than the first time you felt darted

 

by the arrows slightly left off the target

 

causing the flames to ignite

you’ll get repeatedly to cite

 

something blue covers my heart

can’t find a line where to start

 

2

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Marrach/Bad Poet/Chtin Mara – Love Low

 

 

 

 

 

low leaves of summertime

July 8th, 2017

my hair in the grass

my ears in a breeze

my toes in a shadow

still some dirt on my knees

 

my eyes set on sun

and my lungs barely breathe

with top of my fingertips

i touch gentle ease

 

my lips slightly open

and some red on my cheeks

my spirits get high

 

but when you speak of love,

speak low

 

i watch the sky blue

and i think even less

as clouds pass by

comes the warmth of caress

 

my desires turn real

not an ounce of stress

i whisper out your name

all is clear, no need to guess

 

the star’s even closer

ordering the earthly mess

i want this to last forever

 

but when the autumn comes,

it leaves

 

i roll on my stomach

now head facing ground

the shadow stretches over

bringing the night around

 

my spine backs the darkness

besides sits forest hounds

i body sense the silence

you left without a sound

 

i cover up with moss

wary of being found

i hope low season passes

 

but when the living gets hard,

you know it’s summertime

 

 

front Kopie (1)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

marrach/badpoet/chtinmara – love low

 

 

 

 

 

Gone fishing

April 18th, 2017

“Oh wonderful people, so glad you are here to read all about Morten Rasz’s Moonfish! I cannot really say anything about the name Moonfish other than that it should probably have been named “the sound of music”, which unfortunately had already been taken by some old school musical. A musical is great but Morten Rasz’s Moonfish is even greater; Morten literally gives us the chance to hear and see the sounds that we hear right as it is happening!

So fresh even, you can see them being drawn out in front of your eyes and hear instantly the results in your very own ears! It is fair to say that most of this viewable and bearable sound of music is pretty much electronic, but there is also a nice partition of jazz involved! Clearly spicing up the entertainment of the experience into one that holds the attention of you and possibly entire families who are tired of the disappointment of the Von Trapp family’s Sound of Music. This here is the real thing nicely camouflaged under the ‘moonfish’ title. Check it out dear people, check it out.”

from yeah i know it sucks

 

 

Of three workers and a desert (6)

March 23rd, 2017

– Right not left, right not left…
– Shhh, you‘re going to wake up Zigmund, and we can‘t be sure he‘s come to senses yet.
– It‘s ok, he‘s not here.
– ?
– I saw him crawl inot the desert some hours ago.
– Didn‘t you sleep.
– Nope, Whisky lacked in magic this night.
– Should we go and look for him, just in case?
– Don‘t think it‘s the best idea, besides, if you were right, he is in his proper place and, by extension, so are his actions.
– Yes, I say a lot sometimes, even if I do not know what it means, but I‘ll trust your lead on that, Joseph.
– Was it true, that we came from the hole? Why did we not know that and you did? Why didn‘t you tell us?
– I thought you‘d have picked on that by now. The fact, I mean, not my silence. I guess I did not want, yeah, things like last evening happening.
– But it did happen before you told us – Zigmund was going bonkers before I had returned.
–  Miscalculation on my part.
– You‘re lying, Woyzeck. I‘m sorry to say that, but you are not telling what‘s on your mind.
– Son.
– Be real with me, Woyzeck, this time.
Woyzeck sighs.

– I was afraid of you leaving me. You know, jumping into the hole, getting back to where you came from, all that crap, godforgiving.
– You don‘t believe in god, do you?
– I don‘t, but in case he believes in me, I don‘t want to take chances.
– Hypocrite.
– More like an argument for the existence of god from a point of unbeliever.
– And how does that work?
– If he…it believes in me, even when I don‘t – in it, then it follows that his – damn – its belief is pure and self-sufficient.
– So?
– Its belief through a non-believer proves that its existence is perfect and, thus, necessary.
– Are you saying, that if god was upset with non-believers, it would not exists?
– Precisely.
– Haha, oh, you – to quote Zigmund – wise old man! You got yourself in good position, hedging all those bets.
– Don‘t blame the messenger, I still don‘t believe, godbelieving.
Suddenly the workers hear a sharp booming sound.
– Zigmund! Zigmund!
– Don‘t waste your breath, Joseph, he won‘t answer. And he is alive, for better or worse.
– How would you know?
– Trust me on this. He must have crawled to atone for his outburst, got sentimental and shot for the sky. Haha. Indeed, he said my head was not worth the bullet, no way his was!
Both men laugh with uneasy relief.
– Woyzeck?
– Yes, son?
– I thought this magicless silent night about what Zigmund said before I had left.
– About what?
– The hole and everything. I think I‘m goint to jump.
– That‘s what I was afraid of all this time. Should have kept my mouth shut.
– It wasn‘t you, it wasn‘t the fact that we are from the hole. No.
– Then why? What‘s the deal?
– I guess – how to put it soundly – I want to be the blacksmith of my destiny.
– But you are, being here, talking to those, who come, telling us – keeping company.
– Yes and no. I do not really understand, what they say. I just make a calculated guess, reading their faces, expressions.
– You don‘t say. So the wolf did not warn us about the impeding floods?
– Haha, no, I was just lightening up the mood. Yeah, that‘s all I was doing. Setting the tone right, or as good as it can be in this dire place of ours.
– Home.
– ?
– This is our home, Joseph.
– Be it as it may, then, Woyzeck, I have to leave it. No, I want to leave it. This…
Jozef draws an air circle.
– This makes me want to go. Do you understand?
– No. I mean, yes, but no. It just doesn‘twork like that. If you go, nobody will be able to take your place here. We will wither without you.
– Somebody will come.
– Argh, don‘t feed me – godforgiving – this bullshit. If you want to go, – go. In any case, I don‘t have my piece to make you stay. And if I would, your mind is made up, and that can‘t be overruled. I should know, being old and wise. Yes, my wishes count as those of a deadman.
– Don‘t say that.
– Shut up, son. Let it be silent, if it can‘t be peaceful, for a second. These days go so fast now…give me some of that.
– Papi?
– Son.
– Did you hear it?
– What?!
– I thought I heard Ziggy whisper bastard.
– You wouln‘d hear it as a whisper, now, would you? It‘s be like a decaying echo or something. It‘s a desert, and we still can‘t see him.
– You‘re probably right.
– One more, son?
– Papi.
For a time being two workers sit drinking on a pole. There‘s a hole and a pile of garbage. The field of visibility is narrow due to the day being short, and the sand being furious, which also is the reason for the lack of trails leading into the desert.

Of three workers and a desert (5)

February 22nd, 2017

– Woyzeck, Woyzeck! Yeah, you old drunk, call me Ziggy, will you?
– Why so anxious, Zigmund, let me sleep. I had the most perfect dream you interrupted.
– Call me Ziggy, I dare you.
– Calm down! Oh, the fields and the forest, Zigmund, there was a forest! Argh, you lonesome idiot, why did you have to wake me up? Tell me, why?!
– Damn, you won‘t call me Ziggy, not when I need. Should have expected that much. Well, shame on me.
– What‘s the obsession about?! Why you‘re holding hands behind your back?
– This! You won‘t be calling me Ziggy. Only when I say.
– Hell! What the…
– Fuck! I know, right. I‘ve got my piece, haha, oh yeah, I got what you couldn‘t get.
– Ok ok, you got yours, now take this thing out of my face! You weren‘t going to shoot me, were you?
– Nah, old wise man, I wouldn‘t waste this bullet on you, your days are already short as it is.
– Where…how did you get it? I will suspend my disbelief as to why you would need it.
– My needs none of your business, you‘re straight on this. Found it by the hole.
– But it does not leave tools, or else we could have done something since we lost ours that night.
– Something more specific, Woyzeck?
– Build something.
– What? A wall, a street?! Then bang our heads against the wall, while getting lost in a street?

Don‘t you see the futility of all of this work? We had our run with oil, heck, somebody must have used it to build that wall and that street, and we got what? Fucking cactus juice, that cheap ass whisky! You got no peace, that‘s for sure. Well, I got mine. Come to think of it, the perfect tool for our predicament.
– You‘ve got war.
– So be it, I got war. It‘s something though, not all that crap pile of means for survival. By the way, why haven‘t we thrown all that garbage into the hole? Damn, we must be dense as fuck.
– You‘re steaming. Remember, we thought of burying it in the sand, but the shovels were gone.
– Alright. You can‘t hurt me now, moment of truth.
– I know.
– What you know?
– That you threw the tools into the hole.
– And you didn‘t say anything? Hard to believe.
– Didn‘t want to worry Joseph.
– Oh, Jose. What, do you think he would have had a go at me? I‘m not afraid of Joshua. He doesn‘t have it in him. You know, like we do. Or used to. Before you got, yeah, you know, what I mean.
– You‘re not hearing me, I was worried about Joseph, not you.
– Yeah, yeah, protecting your son from harsh realities of life.
– From harsh realities of those incapable to cope with life.
– Shit, old man, you know I could shoot you right here?!
– I don‘t care. I know you couldn‘t, Ziggy.
Zigmund points the gun at Woyzeck. Holds it.
– Not worth it, your temple is not worth this bullet.
– Then whose is?
– Nobody‘s. I will keep it like this. Just wanted to fuck with you.
– I bet you did.
– Oh, here come Joseph, newly born out of infinite pregnancy of the desert.
– Woyzeck, what is the gun doing in Zigmund‘s hands?!
–  I am as baffled as you are.
– When did you get it?
– Found it by the hole.
– Must have been dropped by that man I could not understand.
– Yeeeaaa, the bearded comrade, speaking fire?! Who needs words, when you got action! Telling the truth, am I, am I?!
– Stop waving this thing around! You‘re going to get us killed.
– No way, can‘t happen.
– Is it empty?
– No it has only one bullet, so, no way I can get us killed. Maybe you, maybe Woyzeck, maybe me, but three of us not possible.
– Not exactly right, you could…
– Don‘t give him ideas, Woyzeck! See, he‘s raving mad now.
– Warlord! Fucking warlord!
– Pass me the bottle, Woyzeck, quickly, hurry.
As Woyzeck tries to reach for the bottle, which was left by the end of the pole, something appears in the hole. Zigmund rushes to it.
– Now what this idiot going to do?!
– Forgive me my heavenly father, but this asshole is bringing it here!
– Partners in crime, I present you – what‘s your name, dear?
– Zigmund! What the hell are you doing?! You know she will not survive here!
– We‘ll see, we have time, and cactus juice. Whisky? Do you want some whisky, dear? No? Then maybe you can answer one question? Shit!
Zigmund jumps to the side, letting his hostage half-loose.
– I told you, you idiot.
– Why she‘s…he‘s…why?! What the fuck?!
– Because that‘s what happens to things of the hole, if they‘re not in the right place. I warned you.
– Are you one of them, old fool?!
– As you and Joseph, and – yes – me, are.
– Can‘t be right, I don‘t believe you. Now you‘re fucking with me for real!
– I bet you‘d wish.
– Calm down, both of you. Let it go. Ziggy, let it go!
– Fuck! Just fuck!
– Easy here. Woyzeck, pass me…oh, right , it‘s here. Take a sip, Ziggy.
Zigmund drowns half the bottle down.
– I should have shot it. I should have shot it.
– Papi.
– Yes, son.
Zigmund still shaking, just stares at the hole, till he drops.
Now again just two workers drink, as one lies with his back in the sand. Desert drones.

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