Participantics.

doing this workshop at CTM.12 spectral

rough mixes of two songs from upcoming album

Click to download:

FIRST SONG: THE CONDITION

LAST SONG: PERSPECTIVE

Or listen HERE

Recorded at the Union Chapel, 06 Jan 12.

bikeride to Shepherd’s Bush today <3

… but Mr Falafel was closed.

Brixton yesterday. Seven Sisters, the final corner of London, tomorrow! Hope this is open for appointments.

bikeride to the barrier today <3

angst.

Eight songs (including these) will be recorded properly, with cello, accordian, noise and loops in a week! Woop!

wake for winter solstice

clocks. the evolution of time. formaldehyde. disembodiment. alcohol. voice. the death of all things.

(not mine, but i feel like sharing)

latest drawing

click here

Types of Failure

1. Accident
2. Mistake
3. Weakness
4. Inability
5. Incorrect Method
6. Uselessness
7. Incompatibility
8. Embarrassment
9. Confusion
10. Redundancy
11. Obsolescence
12. Incoherence
13. Unrecognizability
14. Absurdity
15. Invisibility
16. Impermanence
17. Decay
18. Instability
19. Forgetability
20. Tardiness
21. Disappearance
22. Catastrophe
23. Uncertainty
24. Doubt
25. Fear
26. Distractability

from http://www.institute-of-failure.com/

Good.bye Lon.don

Bits of the last 14 months I will miss:

-verbosity and wit, flashy show-off referential comedy
-dryness, sardonism, sarcastic humour unparalleled elsewhere
-self-criticism, analysis, post-colonialism
-non-academic, not superpretentious intellect/theory
-mindful anarchism, and discussion
-Ratstar, my dream home finally finally
-Offmarket, so carefully thought-out
-a beautiful, local, supportive community
-squatting, building, fixing things
-people from the Chapel
-free schooling, workshops, sharing
-counselling and trying my best to help people the way I know how
-people understanding subtlety, awkwardness, shyness, being an outcast and “not being cool”
-people not staring or overtly noticing difference or reacting to my race, etc, most of the time
-free museums and exhibitions
-chips, baked potatoes, vegan goodies
-Elle, Jess, Lili, Iga, Mikey and Alex CF

Stuff I won’t miss:

-upper-class brattiness, entitlement; unappreciative, privileged people
-indirectness/passive-aggression/non-verbalisation
-politeness, platitudes, and plans which turn out to be empty
-complaining, but not doing/changing
-men rambling on about all the stuff that they have done, and the stuff they think should improve
-resistance to “other” ways of life, of speaking, of behaving
-institutional (in anarchist circles) racism
-institutional (in anarchist circles) violence, sexism and dismissal
-social climbing, aspiration, constant enquiries regarding status/associations
-people ignoring personality, and prioritising aesthetics
-daily soul-destroying bus rides between north and south of the river, the longest single journey which took 3.5 hours
-lack of public hangout space or public toilets
-lack of connection to nature/the sublime
-lack of affordable anything
-relentlessness, hostility on the streets
-harrassment (sometimes jovial) from strangers
-starting bands that don’t eventuate for whatever reason
-formality, stiffness
-consumer culture, conformity
-obsession regarding trends/fashion
-box-ticking and rule-following
-lack of initiative, from fear of whatever
-people in my direct environment not asking if i’m okay, or enquiring about my life or experience as a person
-very very very very little social interaction, no-one to ask out for a cup of tea (!)
-missing a local, friendly Vietnamese community
-the only contact being from people who needed me to help them in some way (information, tattooing, english assistance, design layout stuff, other services, accommodation or something related to either social centre)
-loneliness (boohoo!)
-no-one to call or talk to when things were at their very worst
-the Tube and its suffocating air
-everything caked in carbon monoxide
-apples that taste like phosphorous
-absent partner

Pages for LOST IN THE CITY zine

out in Feb 2012. Berlin.

(left click to View, then right click to Save)

Policy Of 3 // rainy Berlin.

books are the conversation the world is having with me,

and my stories and songs are me talking back.

or as Bukowski puts it (ahhh gawd, quoting Chuck – really?!?!?):

“as the spirit wanes, the form appears”

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Below was written for GOOD GRIEF zine

out soon, from Brisbane

(Left click to View, right click to Save.)

classifications.

 

1. CATEGORISE:

acceleration, pitch, appearance, size, frequency, status, pattern of moving, class, creativity, weather, language, rigour, sophistication, hubris, chemistry, generosity, societal values, epochs, olfactory, temperature, evolution.

2. SPEAK OF:

The Tangible:

- people = names, aesthetics, occupations, movement, associations, relationships, character judgements, derision.

- events = pop culture, news item, sensation, time, place, elements partaking, subgenre, environment, attendance, social capital valuation, outbreak.

- behaviour = description, comparison, ethical projection, conjecture, influence, hypocrisy, extrapolation, envy, defamation.

The Intangible:

- cultural, moral, economic, artistic, psychological, spatial, liminal, experimental, experiential, subjective, essential, objective, absorbed.

3. REPEAT IN VARIOUS ORDERS.

 

making sense of the nonsensical

High pitched squeak.

Mice conversing,

Sending pheremone trails to the next, and the next. Same timbre as dentist drill from last week. The soundtrack to two stretched days.

—

Started writing this last month, this be a reference recording for chords on the first run-through, fuck-ups and all: worsens (mp3)

the real recording coming JAN 2012 !@£R£%$&$%£*(^£@(%@!!!!!!!!!

Lyrixxxxx (generic bitter pining over absence):

a decision made is a life gave over to passing

speak to a voice now gone, in a relishing rancid tone

dream of you this morn, out of reach and not of this body

and in a cruel embrace, a grimaced face, not in loving

why make all the space, for those who take it without asking?

it is over now, before it ever began

when the fault falls down, and the minor does rise

we will come and crumble to whatever has not died.

021211

even as miniscule stitches clasp each other,

weaving a stretching fabric spanning mountains,

a screen is bolted down,

and the hole tears open.

miniature limbs appear,

brittle and timid at first.

then supple and wet

meat-filled.

there is a dirge and a deluge here

a chorus of feet slapping the ground

after and after another

a litany of pervasive, percussive panting.

emerging from each erupting nodule

the grinding, grainy pixels of every reality.

and an extended line, of light, to an unknown audience.

that which travels along those lines,

pushed in any direction would end

at a point.

the light stays still, unchanging,

along the trajectory elsewhere.