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hirezBecause of, oh I don't know, learned idleness, shit life and record-player hidden under pile of crap (and needing its belt changed I suspect), of late it's been easier to have the internet deliver terrible skronking noises direct to what passes for my scrot-o-pod (It's actually a phone) so I can hoot my trap off in the privacy and comfort of my own vile emanations.
Thus it is pre-packaged soundproduct(tm) individually tailored to my personal wants and needs. (Actually, Belbury Poly, Y Niwl, Sevs and Horace Silver)
In the old days, before I accepted the notion of the CD into my life, the thought of piecing together a discography from the jigsaw of Peel programmes, record fairs, the gaps in indie label catalogue numbers and small ads in the NME was a jolly one. A kind of scruffy-guitar codebreaking and psycho-cartography at the same time.
Psycho-cartography. Unconscious maps, hacks and hidden levels. (Which is why the 'UK entrances to hell' site is so fascinating) Post-industrial priest holes. The hidden seams and fault-lines in the built landscape.
Um. Anyway.
So you may imagine the irony in discovering a band (Factory Floor, who make the sort of racket I would have liked to have made myself some two decades ago, only I'd have more guitar in the Albini style) who've released mostly vinyl on a random selection of labels. Some of it's available via the Amazon MP3 shop, but quite frankly Jeff B doesn't need my money. The interesting stuff appears to only be available on the modern equivalent of Factory Benelux. In the old days, that would just be an excuse to go and pester Roger Driftin'. Now? Look, I know what's going to happen if I end up in Rise Music and it's going to be expensive.
Mind, I never did get the thing about buying comics and could only be arsed with Trades.
Thus it is pre-packaged soundproduct(tm) individually tailored to my personal wants and needs. (Actually, Belbury Poly, Y Niwl, Sevs and Horace Silver)
In the old days, before I accepted the notion of the CD into my life, the thought of piecing together a discography from the jigsaw of Peel programmes, record fairs, the gaps in indie label catalogue numbers and small ads in the NME was a jolly one. A kind of scruffy-guitar codebreaking and psycho-cartography at the same time.
Psycho-cartography. Unconscious maps, hacks and hidden levels. (Which is why the 'UK entrances to hell' site is so fascinating) Post-industrial priest holes. The hidden seams and fault-lines in the built landscape.
Um. Anyway.
So you may imagine the irony in discovering a band (Factory Floor, who make the sort of racket I would have liked to have made myself some two decades ago, only I'd have more guitar in the Albini style) who've released mostly vinyl on a random selection of labels. Some of it's available via the Amazon MP3 shop, but quite frankly Jeff B doesn't need my money. The interesting stuff appears to only be available on the modern equivalent of Factory Benelux. In the old days, that would just be an excuse to go and pester Roger Driftin'. Now? Look, I know what's going to happen if I end up in Rise Music and it's going to be expensive.
Mind, I never did get the thing about buying comics and could only be arsed with Trades.
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no subject
Date: 2012-05-07 06:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-05-08 02:56 am (UTC)Apple has missed an iMarketing opportunity with this slogan.
Post-industrial priest holes
More of this sort of thing.