Monday, December 28, 2009

Psychonautical Levitation

Halfway through the Jack Ladder's set a man in his mid-fifties strolled in off the street and offered Kirin a firm handshake in congratulations for his melody, a melody that had sucked people off the street and led them into a dark room with falic appendages and nonchalant youths. The man stayed, swayed. I watched his eyes glaze over and surrender to a brief reprieve from the tethers of suburban life. He had probably been strolling down streets all his life listening out for that one fleeting moment of suspended reality.. and here it was.

Monday, December 21, 2009

Brain Slaves in a fabric factory

As far as I knew we were going to a house party but instead of being greeted by a slandering host there were men in penguin suits spiking the punch and serving us mint flavored gelato. Surrounded by an infinite ceiling and giant swirls of fabric Brain Slaves performed to a crowd of girls wearing heels that could have pierced the concrete. There sound is like Super Quality Velvet, it wraps around you, brushes your skin up the wrong way, makes your senses crawl. When they played Ecstasy the room lost it's gravity, everyone was swept up into a colorful scepter of psychedelic drones and calypso rhythms. My brain was enslaved.

Saturday, December 19, 2009

Bronte Beach

Lucy in the Sea with Diamonds

We saw The Middle East try their hands at 14 different instruments including a Lagerphone; if The Arcade Fire and Fleet Foxes had a hoedown this band is what it would sound like. The sound of 612 devoted fans humming along to one of their choruses would have made any sane person run into the ocean bare footed.

You left me.
Hangin’round an empty saloon
In full bloom

I howled for you
You are the moon

Constant revere
Inside my sphere
All I hear

I howled for you
You are the moon

Inside your lair

If I dare

Howl for you
You are my moon

The view from my cabin

At night all of the junks turn off their engines. I fell asleep to the sound of the water lapping at wooden planks. White sails overhead. Ghosts, watching over me as I rock the anchor of sleep, refusing to sink into my minds-eye in fear of waking up and never feeling as intensely peaceful as this ever again.