Three Posts Written a Year Ago Today and Tomorrow Copy/Pasted into This Post

RIP, Captain Beefheart.

1/15/41 - 12/17/10
UPDATE 12/17/11: Zen Dave remembers too.

I'll post more over the weekend. No eulogy from me, I promise.

UPDATE! Another song.

UPDATE!

Please read and listen to this.


That's 1   here's   2





Another broken promise: here's my eulogy -

Whatever truths, myths, fables, lies about Beefheart's and Zappa's relationship - and I like Zappa, but I love Beefheart - in my cosmology they are bound, and it's apt that Beefheart died during Zappadan.

I love Beefheart, but I love love love Pere Ubu and all the other sounds that wouldn't exist if not for Don Van Vliet. No Beefheart, no Pere Ubu. I can't imagine.

And the uncanniness of serendipity - just as I'm falling in love again with Stanley Elkin, finishing up The Franchiser, the first novel in which he introduces his own battle with multiple sclerosis, Van Vliet's death from MS and the chance to fall in love again again.

• Goodbye, Captain.
• Captain Beefheart's innocent soul.
• Top 14 reasons why Captain Beefheart was a true American genius.
• Early performance.
• Rolling Stone obit.

3


I sent this email request yesterday morning (subject line = Beefheart) to the AM DJ of the station I listen to:

Get you to play a song or two? He's grandpa to at least half the bands you play.

All best.

No Beefheart, no return email.

Sent this email to midday host of the station I listen to:

Hi Chxryl, can I get you to play some Beefheart please, how about "Sue Egypt" off *Doc at the Radio Station* please and thanks.

I must confess, I'm shocked at how little air love Beefheart has got at KxXP. From what I can tell from looking at the playlists since the news of Beefheart's death there has been one song played (on Cole's show Friday).

I realize I'm older (by far) than many of the DJs there who may never have heard or heard of Beefheart, but half the bands and solo acts you all play are descended by some greater or lesser degree to Beefheart. Anyway, I dig the man and his music.

All best. Have a great holiday.

No song. No return email.

First, Sue Egypt:

I don't care they didn't play Beefheart - I'm old, they're young; they may know the name but not the music and don't feel comfortable playing something they've never heard; they may know the music and not like it; they may have had their sets planned out and couldn't find a good seque; whatever: I've never expected all my requests to be played; it's their show. Still, I've been listening to and interacting with and giving money to this station for a decade, these djs aren't friends by any means but they know that I'm a loyal listener. Acknowledge the motherfucking email.

I thought about bitching in a post then decided no, don't be petty, when into my mailbox came (I swear to St Benny of Olsen and will forward the time-stamped email to you if so requested):

’Tis the season. I watched A Christmas Carol with George C. Scott playing Scrooge as though it was the first time I’d heard the story, and thought, “Now there’s a great message, I’ve got to remember that!” (That guy can act!) So, now my heart is bursting with good cheer and thankfulness.

I’m thankful for KxXP listeners like Jenneviere from San Francisco, who recently wrote this to John Richards: “You routinely surprise me by seemingly reading my emotional landscape and playing music that is a direct reflection of how I'm feeling on any particular day… Without ever having met me, you, day after day, mix the soundtrack of my life, and have moved me to laugh, to cry, to dance, to sing...  I am most sincerely grateful.”

KxXP’s staff and volunteers work tirelessly to bring you these incredible music experiences. No matter where or how you listen, please support the music community that brightens your day and brings you hours of inspiration and enjoyment.

Why is it important to donate now?

Angriest year of my life. Every day a renewed apostasy, every day a replayed apostasy. I'm dumber today than yesterday. I can't see anything but angrier ahead.
   

• Police state.
• Now that you can, don't.
• The privilege cringe.
• Bloody trophies.
• Attention deficit disorder. 
• The Assange accusations.
• 2010 moments of pure crazy, part one.
• Robert Reich's obamapostasy is tepid.
• UPDATE! Financial Times urges Corporate to tell Americans to Sit the Fuck Down and Shut the Fuck Up! 
• UPDATE! Not a bug, a feature.
• Substitute Republicans for Celtic and Democrats for Rangers and understand why no one asks me how I separate politics and soccer.
• An apostasy.
• Kensington!
• UPDATE! SNAP! Earlier this month five Columbia University students were charged with allegedly dealing drugs like LSD, coke and pot out of their fraternity houses and dorm rooms. Police called the investigation and bust "Operation Ivy League." In October, a Georgetown University student and one of his high school friends were charged with allegedly operating a DMT lab in a freshman dorm. Although Georgetown is not an Ivy, the news surprised students at the prestigious D.C. college and made national headlines. (Emphasis for my giggles.)
• Under Armor wants Maryland to be what Oregon is to Nike.
• UPDATE! When Ralph Friedgen had a drink w/Gary Williams: He told me another story about a time he felt basketball coach Gary Williams tried to embarrass him in a talk he gave in front of some prominent boosters. One of Friedgen's graduate assistants had recently been arrested for DWI, and Friedgen, even though he liked the coach, decided he had no choice but to fire him. When Williams made it a point to mention to boosters than none of his staff had been in trouble, Friedgen read it as a direct shot at him. Later, Friedgen said he and Williams had a drink together, and the football coach leaned in and told the basketball coach if he ever did something like that again, they'd have to go out back and settle it like men. Williams simply nodded. As far as I know, they got along fine after that.
• NEW PJ HARVEY!
• Birthday playlist.
• UPDATE! Cloudburting cover! (by a 21 year old!). 
• UPDATE! KATE BUSH!
• UPDATE! NEW MOGWAI!
• Skyway.

CALL ME ISHMAEL

Jackson Mac Low

Circulation. And long long
Mind every
Interest Some how mind and every long

Coffin about little little
Money especially
I shore, having money about especially little

Cato a little little
Me extreme
I sail have me an extreme little

Cherish and left, left, 
Myself extremest
It see hypos myself and extremest left,

City a land. Land. 
Mouth; east,
Is spleen, hand mouth; an east, land.

All the Seats Were Occupied

Today's draw. You realize that whoever wins the Barcafuckers/Realfuckers match, whether in knockout or in finals, will win, yes? While I rarely root for Italian clubs - normally I'd root for anybody but motherfucking Madrid to beat any Italian club - imagine the existential aargh of the English football fan if Chelsea and Arsenal crash out in round of 16. Go Napoli, Milan.

Also, I just remembered I had promised a dear friend I'd post this sonata for Beethoven's birthday today, one, two, three, I can't hear the opening bars of the second movement without hearing Karl Haas say "Hello everyone." 

Also, one, two, three perspectives while they're fresh on Hitchens, who I read when he was crucifying Kissinger but not so much lately and whose death seems to signify to many some kind of watershed moment. Also, here's a friend's post from 2008 on Hitchens.

Also, heard this on Bryce's show today and had an excellent flashback:

Like Wrestling Statues; But It Still Goes on Inside My Head

Besides a couple of Mats albums on the drive to and back, lots of the above band and lots of the guy guesting with the above band in the vid below. Here's some of what I missed during my news/blog blackout, here's some of what I haven't missed but don't have the fuck today to go beyond this gimmick to comment on because (a) I'm in a good mood where it counts but (b) in a vile mood where it counts and pays for my mortgage and (c) in a vile mood in three worlds that don't matter at all, or rather do but shouldn't, which makes (d) my discovery that blooger now has a link opens in new window option I just noticed (and will use from now on) a cause for slight elevation of my vile moods though not enough to go back and add to the links posted below before I discovered the new option:

This and this and this and this and this and this and credit Ben discredit Babs and this and this and this and this and this and this and this and this and this and this and this and this and this and this and this and this and this and this and this and this and this and this and this and a reminder that a link is not necessarily an endorsement of the provocative element of any particular link I post because I think you might find interesting from your own pro or con perspective. Geez.





THE BED

Thom Gunn

     The pulsing stops where time has been,
         The garden is snow-bound
The branches weighed down and the paths filled in,
             Drifts quilt the ground.

      We lie soft-caught, still now it's done,
           Loose-twined across the bed
Like wrestling statues; but it still goes on
               Inside my head.

I'm in Love, What's That Song?

Safe trip, Planet's home, always 70 to 68 to 79 to 70 to Bamgier, 70 to 79 to 68 to 70 back from now on. Bamgier is beautiful. Dinner last night with Planet and three friends, charming, sweet. Listened to CDs the entire way, listened to no news on the radio, watched no TV in the hotel room, checked my email briefly last night, no sites, not you, sorry, imposed a news blackout the entire trip start to finish, get into Earthgirl's car after driving the rental back twenty minutes ago, her radio was tuned to WTOP, Breaking News! Countdown to the Shutdown! here's analysis by motherfucking Plot Markkin, quick, here's one of the songs from the trip:

You Could Walk the Rest of the Day into the Picture and Not Know Why, at Any Given Moment, You're There

A week ago today, it feels a year ago, I occupied 15th and K for two hours (but left before the arrests started), today I'm driving to Bamgier Ohio to pick up Planet from her elite college to bring her home for Giftmas Break. _____ _ _________, _ _____ ____ - *!____!* - _______ _______ __ __ ________. ____ __  .__ %. + __ -  ___ _ ___ ______. ____, ____________ ________. ____ __ ___ ____, ___, ____ ___ ____ ___ ____. O! and lots of Stephen Merritt projects as promised!

• I wish I had an evil twin.
• More about sedation than provocation.
• Lovers from the moon.
• Is Occupy reaching take-off?
• Two characters in search of a country song.
• Rocky Anderson? Rocky Anderson doesn't seem to have a website. Fail.
• The flowers she sent and the flowers she said she sent.
• Ruth Marcus and Clench Wills, hell, the whole fucking inbred-Villager lot of Fuckface Hiatt's editorial page hate Newt Gingrich. Golly! (Sorry, but you find a Golly.)
• A thousand lovers. 
• Michael Savage hates Newt Gingrich. Savage's cynicism is purer.
• The world is a disco ball. 
• Dick Cheney and Smirk Guiliani, however, love Newt.
• Alien being. 
• Still Dick.
• When you're old and lonely.
• Conceived, designed and manufactured with you in mind.
• Lonely days.
• Obama's good for this business.
• Old fools.
• Awesome architecture.
• Sun goes down and the world goes dancing.
• The future at the end of the economy.
• you you you you.
• Carnival versus capital. Time to revisit Bakhtin.
• Dada polka.
• Canonical nationalism.
• Sailor in love with the sea. Yes, that's Gary Numan.
• Beckett, for those of you who do and/or will.
• Merritt covers Gabriel.
• Live (recent) Cure. Fuck I'm old, four months older than Robert Smith.
• Dress up in dreams. Yes, that's Mary Timony.
• Something for Randal.
• Falling out of love with you. Yes, that's Dean Wareham.

OFF A SIDE ROAD NEAR STAUNTON

Stanley Plumly

Some nothing afternoon, no one anywhere,

an early autumn stillness in the air,

the kind of empty day you fill by taking in

the full size of the valley and its layers leading

slowly to the Blue Ridge, the quality of country,

if you stand here long enough, you could stay

for, step into, the way a landscape, even on a wall,

pulls you in, one field at a time, pasture and fall

meadow, high above the harvest, perfect

to the tree line, then spirit clouds and intermittent

sunlit smoky rain riding the tops of the mountains,

though you could walk until it’s dark and not reach those rains—

you could walk the rest of the day into the picture

and not know why, at any given moment, you’re there.

Cause I've Got a Sense of Perfection and Nothing Makes Much Sense at All

Excellent news!

The Magnetic Fields will be releasing a new album, "Love at the Bottom of the Sea", on March 6, 2012, on Merge Records in North America, and Domino Records overseas. The band's tenth full-length album is their first release of new material with Merge since 1999's highly acclaimed "69 Love Songs". The band will celebrate their new album with tours through North America and Europe. Please visit the calendar for full ticket purchasing information.

April 9, 2012 - 930 Club, who's in? Hamster, I'm looking at you.

After putting out their "synth-free trilogy," The Magnetic Fields are returning to their signature mix of synth and acoustic sounds. Merritt notes about the new album that "instead of using a synthesizer as a melodic instrument, much of the time I used it as a compositional destructive mechanism, something eating away at the apparent order of my perfectionist arrangements. I was very happy to be using synthesizers in ways that I had not done before. Most of the synthesizers on the record didn't exist when we were last using synthesizers."

All Merritt's bands - The 6ths, Gothic Archies, Future Bible Heroes, and especially Magnetic Fields - are in the short rotation for one of the two remaining spots in my Sillyass Desert Island Five game. Think you'll hear some of each in the next post?

Midwinter Murder Is in My Heart as I Stand There on the Curb in My Opera Pumps

• Yes, this is at least the third time that's been Theme Song of the Month. 
• Panopticon and police states.
• On the above.
• Police state.
• Police state. And find the Jeff Perkin mentioned and punch the motherfucker in the face.
• Occupy theory, Occupy strategy.
• Rape and the Occupy movement.
• For and against precarity.
• The anti-Occupy/CIA connection.
• Morons or sellouts? Death to the either/or.
• Deliver Occupy from its friends.
• No labels and the emerging oligarchy.
• Imperialism through the looking glass.
• Those being eaten by America. 
• Newt Gingrich and the invention of politics. 
• Pastor Sanctimonious and She Who Is as Shitty really hate Gingrich.
• Occupy's free-speech appeal.
• Fight fair, dammit.
• @BLCKDGRD if you want.
• Bring the Sentinel home.
• Resisting the siren song.
• Siren songs.
• Yes, the urge to blurt I can't control though all I got is repetition and reiteration. Should we collaterally inconvenience the second 9% in hopes they'll join us in revolution? Don't answer, listen! Anyway, this is a very old and never-to-be resolved question like all the other very old and never-to-be resolved questions, arf?
• and he named them as he passed them....
• Happy as a dog's tail.
• Changing of the guard. Burch scores on a free kick v United at Germantown in Cup match. Bet.
• Internalization of the crisis.
• Silliman's always generous lit-links.
• Hilary Mantel meets her father-in-law. She's writing the follow-up to Wolf Hall which is either great or awful. Death to the either/or.
• One, two, three, four.
• Three hours of sublime. Especially the first set. Holyfuck.
• The finest drops.
• Exceptionally good news.

MIDWINTER

Frederick Seidel

Midwinter murder is in my heart
As I stand there on the curb in my opera pumps,
Waiting for the car to come and the opera to start,
Amid the Broadway homeless frozen clumps.

Patent leather makes my shoes
Easter eggs by Fabergé.
The shoes say New York is still run by the Jews,
Who glitter when they walk, and aren’t going away.

The morning after the Mozart, when I take my morning stroll, I feel
Removed all over again from the freezing suffering I see.
Someone has designed a beautiful, fully automatic, stainless steel,
Recoilless assault shotgun down in Tennessee.

The dogs tied up outside the Broadway stores
In the cold look with such touching expectancy inside.
A dog needs to adore. A dog adores.
A dog waiting for an owner is hot with identity and pride.

Well I Don't Know What It Is but There's Definitely Something Going on Upstairs

That's this shitty blog's official Bleggalgazing Anthem, played today (beyond blogwhoring) because news that Grinderman is breaking up:

Nick Cave has ended Grinderman's latest tour by announcing that the band is "over". The group played their final show on Saturday night, at the Meredith music festival in Victoria, Australia. For their last gig, the hirsute quartet played to 12,000 people at the outdoor festival, gnashing and snarling through their headlining set. But then at the end came the news: "That's it for Grinderman," Cave growled, according to the Vine. "It's over … See you all in another 10 years when we'll be even older and uglier."

There is good news:

Cave's next project is thought to be the Bad Seeds' 15th studio album, the follow-up to 2007's Dig, Lazarus, Dig!!! "We're quite excited about [it]," said Jim Sclavunos, drummer for the Bad Seeds and Grinderman, in a January interview. "This'll be the first time the Bad Seeds exist as a wholly different band than they were when they started. Nick's the only remaining person from the original lineup." Bad Seeds co-founder Mick Harvey left the group in 2009.

become song—simple, hard: removed

I like this past weekend's posts (and especially the Ammons' poem that gives this post its title): they make me smile, I want to keep them at least one more day above the scroll, above the blegyard, not buried on page two-through-forgotten as if they never existed, but death! to the either/or, I am mailing it in today too. I can't vouch for the rest of week either (though I've a half-finished post and a bunch of links for later today or tomorrow): Wednesday we're *(YAY!)* driving to Bamgier and taking Planet and friends out to dinner, Thursday we're *(YAY!)* driving Planet home, so I'm busy before, during, after, but death! to the either/or, I might mail it in then too, though thinking of it as a loser-leaves-town match between tiresome yodel-strain and tedious echo-sprain makes me smile. That's right: death! to the either/or.

103 Today

It’s One Song, an Over-Reach from Which All Possibilities, Like Filaments, Depend

Your mission for the day, from The Guardian's live-blogging the Barca-Madrid game:

25 min: Benzema, to the left of the area, is being shepherded away from goal, but suddenly sends a cracking reverse pass back inside to Ronaldo, who with only Valdes to beat, shanks a hellish effort miles wide right. That should have been a second goal, especially as Di Maria was also unmarked, and in an even better position, just to his right. Ronaldo does a lot of shouting, using the Portuguese words for EFF and CEE.

EFF and CEE? Here, have three more sentences of good:

29 min: Dani Alves cries murder after Marcelo clatters into him. The referee sighs wearily. There's an edge now.

• Holyfuck.
• Current Standings: I'd root for Barca to beat England's traditional big four (and City if City didn't have Why Always Me), any Italian side (though I love Fiorentina's violet), and Madrid; there's no team on the planet I'd root for Madrid to beat.
• Mailing it in again? What's this pen's significance? I don't know! 
• Irony alert.
• Graeber interview.
• Why Occupy?
• OMFG!
• The initial thought was to comment on how any profile piece on a Republican wannabe-POTUS in the NYT or YFWP will infuriate predictable people (once and hopefully now much less reflexively me) if it isn't a savaging and it's never been a savaging and will never be a savaging, but what caught my attention is this sentence: “I don’t think George ever forgot that,” said Walter DeVries, a longtime friend and colleague, all praise to Serendipity, yesterday morning before seeing the linked article I was looking for something else, and I found Peter De Vries' Slouching to Kalamazoo, and thought, I haven't thought about Peter De Vries in at least a decade. I think of Thomas Berger when I think of De Vries, though I think of Thomas Berger all the time.
• The dematerialization of the art object.
• Reality B.
• Copland and the Republicans.
• Obscure Sound's AWESOME Top 50 with lots of glorious sound. I LOVE Destroyer, I have every Destroyer album, I didn't even know about this one, I don't have enough ears, eyes, how the fuck did this happen?
• Holyfuck.
• Best Bryan Ferry homage ever:

GLASS

A.R. Ammons

The song

sparrow puts all his

saying

into one

repeated song:

what

variations, subtleties

he manages,

to encompass denser

meanings, I’m

too coarse

to catch: it’s

one song, an over-reach

from which

all possibilities,

like filaments,

depend:

killing,

nesting, dying,

sun or cloud,

figure up

and become

song—simple, hard:

removed.