Daphne Oram links

Wire contributor and Daphne Oram scholar Dan Wilson has collected together links to some fascinating material pertaining to the innovative composer. Stuff there includes harmonic theory, graphic sound techniques, vintage recordings of séances...

Scripts for the Pageant Mix

New label Blackest Ever Black have put together a singular mix of the jarring music inspiring their output. In their words:

"This mixtape aims to give some sense of the predilections and prejudices that stirred Blackest Ever Black into being. Most of its content is drawn from the 1980s - not a conscious choice, but rather a natural result of favouring music of real character, imagination and volatility. Music to make you feel all over again a truth which the mind becomes adept at evading, and which can be expressed in a single, simple command: you must change your life."

Listen here.

Tonight on CHRY

I make my radio debut. I'll be deejaying from 11.00 until 1.00 Eastern time (GMT -5) on York University's CHRY 105.5 FM. I'm providing cover for the Found Sound show whose musical remit is pretty open. My plan, which may change in the intervening hours, is to play a load of ambient - Caretaker, GAS, and a Beckett radio play amongst other stuff suitable for the wee hours.

If you're not in the northern Toronto region and wish to listen you can here or alternatively I'll post a link to a download in the next couple of days.

EDIT

So, I didn't manage to make a satisfactory recording, the show however went pretty well despite my lack of technical skill. Anyway, I'll be back on air next week at the same time.

Hauntology Today

Showing that this idea is far from done - some new and new-ish Hauntology related stuff online:

There's an excellent short documentary (and accompanying interview) on Position Normal who is, rightly or wrongly, considered the Godfather of Hauntological music.

There's a great looking group hauntology blog called Found Objects.

Thanks to K-Punk for those.

And also there's an interesting panel discussion including the Ghost Box lads Julian House and Jim Jupp who among other things talk about the spectres haunting their work.

Joyful Noise

Among recent additions to the superb UBU web archive I found this 60 minute documentary on Sun Ra (1914-1993). For anyone unfamiliar with Ra this is a great introduction. Apart from the amazing music, virtuosic playing, and outlandish costumes, what makes him so interesting a subject is his theoretical sophistication and originality. Director Robert Mugges gives Ra time to introduce and expound both the afro-futurist ‘mythocracy’ underpinning his work and the more concrete, everyday philosophy of discipline and precision instilled in the Arkestra’s musicians.

Ariel's Freaky Disco

I went to see Ariel Pink’s Haunted Graffiti last night. My big question going into the evening was: what is he going to be like as a live performer? Before-hand he was out on stage brooding and looking awkward. Dressed in white jeans and striped Russian navel shirt he aimlessly paced up and down playing anxiously with his hair. He stared vacantly at band mates as they hurriedly readied their instruments and then he stood, centre stage, rocking from one foot to the other scrutinizing the crowd face by face. His demeanor changed as soon as the music started. Singing he looked focused, and as the set progressed he relaxed and started to let loose. During one early song he removed his belt and proceeded to swing it around his head accidentally whipping his own arm. Then he took the belt and feebly lashed the monitor speakers lining the front of the stage. Returning to the mic stand, he dropped his trousers to the knee revealing baggy black under-pants rumpled up at either side to his hips. This wasn’t the first time the trousers came down either, later when asked to ‘show us your cock’, they came off again, only this time fully and permanently. He performed the final stages of the show in what could have been his pajamas - underpants and tee. He thrashed about the stage with great energy and exuberance but he can’t really dance. He was pretty inventive with the belt though, it featured throughout - done up in a noose around his neck, swung around lasso-like or just dangled between his legs. There’s no doubting his creative intelligence and originality. I suspect as time goes and he settles into this new way of doing things we’ll see more drama (and, I hope, costumes!) in Pink’s performances. His theatrics last night were a bit silly but never-the-less endearing, there was no irony; this is just the way the man gets down - like a child messing about in his bedroom when no one’s looking.

Much has been made recently of the new material and what Pink’s transition from lone bedroom recordist to live group means for his distinctive lo-fi sound. I’ve not got much to add now, skint I haven’t heard all the new album yet. Based solely on last night I’d say having a band has extended his range of possibilities. For example: though some of his old tracks have a swaggering rhythm, I’ve never danced to them. His music has always been a head-phone listen for me in part because the loose beats and less-than-metronomic playing don’t help a dancer keep time, but also because his small sound was never sufficiently enveloping. Last night, backed by a tight band and amplified over a huge sound-system I felt it and danced...

Anempathetic film music

Last week I saw Eisenstein's Strike (1924) screened at Toronto's Gladstone Hotel as part of Early Monthly Segments' celebration of Worker's month. Given the global age of austerity we are now entering the choice couldn't of been more apposite. The film was accompanied by a live score performed by Canadian composer and experiemental muscian Allison Cameron. Cameron used a range of different instruments and sound making machines – guitar, thumb piano, effects pedal, record player, wireless radio – to create a sparse and abstract sound world - isolated notes pierced unevenly textured sheets of radio static and a broken record skipped relentlessly, its pops and crackles repeating in a rhythmical pattern that partially masked the original orchestral content. This foreboding mechanical monotony, which drove the piece forward, was accentuated by something beyond Cameron’s control - the basso continuo for the entire work was the film projector's whir. Its light, flitting drone underscored the haunted feeling evoked by the music.

The music didn’t take on the scene’s rhythms or express its emotional core. There were accidental points of convergence where sound met vision; moments where that heard could conceivably have been the sound of events seen. But for the most part the score was, in Michel Chion's term, anemapathetic, meaning it proceeded, like the broken record and vintage projector, ineluctably, undaunted and almost oblivious to the film’s unfolding narrative. There’s a dramatic scene early on in the picture: a factory machinist is wrongly accused of stealing a company micrometre. The cost of replacing the lost tool, which management cruely demands, stands to financially ruin him. His shame in unfairly shouldering this accusation and his frustration and anger at not being believed were almost unbearably intense emotions to share. This unusually ferocious intensity was, I would argue, the result of Cameron’s skilful positioning of the scene against a backdrop of profound sonic indifference. This is for me where the power of her score lay – it made you feel more strongly.