monday dec 7th never forget playlist

stereolab - enivrez - vous
(Get Drunk! (translation)
One must always be drunk, that is all, our sole purpose. In order not to feel the horrible burden of time which hunches us over towards the ground, one must get drunk right away. But drunk on what? On wine, on poetry, or on virtue it's up to you, but get drunk. And if sometimes on the steps of a castle, on the green grass of a ditch, or in the dismal solitude of your room you wake up, the drunkeness already diminished or gone, ask the wind, a wave, a star, a bird, a clock, whatever flees, whatever moans, whatever rolls, whatever sings, whatever talks, ask it for the time. And the wind, the wave, the star, the bird, the clockwill reply thus:"'Tis time to get drunk! In order not to become the tormented slaves of time, get drunk constantly. On wine, on poetry or on virtue, it's up to you.")

tribe - why (ono)

social junk - jail

king crimson - elephant talk

lou reed - pale blue eyes

the fall - paint work; i am damo suzuki

The Black Twig Pickers - crossing the james

Basokin - mulume

Acid Mothers Temple SWR - The Condition Of International Job Hunting Activity

A.M. Salad - Tunic Lupus

ELO - turn to stone

Flipper - shed no tears

Fuckwolf - What A Fuck

Geeshie Wiley - Last kind word blues

the califone player wouldnt keep the speed correct, so i went back home and scored normal turntable and a realistic mixer. today i opened up another califone i have and figured out i just need a fuse to make it work.

soon to be on kaosradioaustin.org

१२ ०३ ०९ मूसे

12 03 09 moose lodge show:

How I Quit Crack
Night Viking
Telepathik Friend
Computer Jesus Refridgerator

/what i played\
Peaking Lights; side b of 'imaginary falcons'
The Residents; the sleeper, anvil forest
Delisa Sibiya; Uyongilobola ngani? (from 'zulu songs from south africa')
Mulatu Astatke; asmarina
Laurie Anderson; from the air
Rahdunes; rivers in egypt set sail
PIL; go back
Indian Jewelry, zing zang
Yukhonic; what we feel is necessary
some japanese noise 7" from 90's magazine.. otomo + eye + others.. not sure
Profax; bona fide
A.S.D.; 222
Nautical Almanac; orange & green picture disc
Music From The Morning Of The World; balinese gamelan
The Residents; lights out
Pain Jerk; gadget bondage
Remnant Sisters; this train
Les Georges Leningrad; supa doopa
Indian Jewelry; lost my sight 7"
Acid Mothers Temple; stargate of the hell
Konono #1; kule kule
Maja S.K. Ratkje + Lasse Marhaug; music for shopping
Celina Y Reutilio

११ ३० ०९ मूसे

SERIOUSLY? HINDI??

set list, roughly, at monday night moose w/ jonathon horne...

Yello; no more words
King Tubby; rebel dance
Screenbred; i heard god today
Diamanda Galas; sono L'Antichristo
Silver Apples; love fingers
Mulatu Astatke; yekermo sew
Baaba Maal & Taj Mahal; trouble sleep yanga wake am
(from fela tribute red, hot & riot)
Expo70; cognac smoke
Rahdunes; head of clouds
Danielle Lemair; in my memory
Danielle Lemair; lazer beams
Qu'ran recital from Music in the world of Islam
Trans Am; illegal ass (played at 33)
--
at this point Ralph Barton, aka Bubblegum Shitface, took the stage and proceeded to "perform" the following: (audience folk spun a wheel to determine what exactly)

"whistling"
"noise singing"
"shit knife"
"really bad song" (nelly, ride with me)
"song i've never played. (i try to push it on someone else)"
(and he did that, pushed it on matt tilly)
"smokercize"
(smokers got to exercise while smoking w/ Ralph as instructor)
"iceburgs in july"
"almost 40"
--
back to playlist;
sam & joe; save the children (fear of smell)
the Ex; stop stupid competition
Fear; lets have a war
Moondog; theme
MC ADE; bass rock express

something like that. the end seems unlikely order...

dj Califone nov 16 moose lodge 'set list'??

had a great time with one wheel of steel, the wonderful stereo califone record player, no mixer, no PA, for Jonathan Horn's improv night at the moose lodge.
a rough idea of what i played;
daniel carter, ed wilcox and vinnie, aka global exp. orchestra (side one and more)
blue humans, live 1980 NYC, side one
sun ra, out there a minute, most of side one
balachander, awesome veena dude from india, whole side
moussa doumbi; "yeye mousso" from a mississippi records comp
spiritual singers; mississippi records, side one
acid mothers temple; wild gals a go go, side one
maja and lasse lp titled 'music for shopping' - "the street parade massacre"
indian jewelry; "zing zang" from split with future blondes
residents, from 'tune of two cities' the second track "maze.."
fugs; cia man
the fall; i am damo suzuki, N 2 encroachment
sun ra, pink elephants on parade
andrew sisters; "Bei Mir Bist Du Schön" which got some girls dancing
benny goodman; never should of told you
higgs and wilson; old ska "gone is yesterday"
raccoo-oo-oon; mirror blanket, visage of the fox
the fall; overture from i am curious, dog is life/jerusalem, kurious oranj
the cure; forest, walk

maybe later i'll elaborate

next week i'll add a tape deck and play the Indonesian song that the butthole surfers yanked "kuntz" from. ill play the songs back to back to show you whats up

childhood was full of it

of buddhas, prisms, rainbows, stripes of color. unfinished wood, sunflowers, dinosaur figurines, nude women, and devils. mirrors, icons, radiators. creaking walls, walking on the ceilings, moving from the living room through the dining room to the kitchen without touching the floor. checking the mail, climbing the cherry tree, climbing magnolias, riding a bike. walking the dog, building villages for rolly pollys, collecting fire flys, catching frogs. my fathers conch shell. the om coffee table. star fish, "eat almonds" sign, paint brushes, metal cans, colored water, glass jars.electric christmas candles in the window sills. chimney, flue, fireplace, poker. white paint. retouched bugs bunny lunch box. plastic godzilla with firing fist and vinyl "flame" tongue. model of rodan attacking a beige city, triceratops with a fern, giant orange tyranosaurus model with glow in the dark eyes. going to the beach and collecting shells, looking at seaweed, avoiding the jellyfish, being fascinated by the jellyfish, horse shoe crab tails, bodies, huge wooden spindles shaped like spacecraft from 2001 a space odyssey. going to cedar grove nj for christmas time and recording dj red alert and chuck chillout emanating from nyc via the boombox. sock monkey and upsie the pillow elephant.

HEAVY SUBJECT

ON THE EDGE OF THE PORTAL TO ANOTHER WASTE OF FUCKING FLESH

ORGANIC HARD ON FROM ANOTHER DIMENSION

TECHNICOLOR KARMATIC DOGMA ASS BITE SELF

ME CHING

NIX THE UNSOLD, THE UNSOUND. LIFT THE BEST.
without ado

MIND WORM ACCOUNTANT FROM "OUTER SPACE"

lazy way out
lazy way to work
shiftless
controlled
controlling
sub
urban
selfish
mind
wandering
non social
skills
having
faux new age
cant even be in
being
HEAVY SUBJECT

limbo

I went to a family retreat at a large most likely rented for the occasion house. there was christian functions happening there, leading me to think it mostly served as a church. slept in a very oversized bed with many people, adults and children. more people were coming in all the time, with luggage like they were coming in from out of town. the bed turned out to be dirty. some kids were laying nearby when i noticed 'poop.' i got up to go piss and went out the door in my underwear, but theres people everywhere, dressed up. a suit guy, church guy worker, led me to the bathrooms. or well he told me where they were. i passed many large rooms with 'congregations' or suits and dresses. me disheveled and almost naked with a morning hard on. great.
stairs and hallways and stares. or thats how i felt. no one really noticed.
i finally made it to where i thought i was going, outside the building, to a little rascals era group of miscreants, and this contraption, uh, wall, building - a few people perched on and around it. there were two haphazard doors like from an ancient ship or bank. i chose left which was the 'small' one i was told. maybe they also said 'girl' one too. i always choose wrong i thought. it looked retarded anyway so with some effort i got to the 2nd door, open and it is just as retarded, wood beams doing nothing, super shallow... one foot wide/deep, 2 feet tall, and open on the back side, no actual toilet at all, just an absurd joke. like a maniac had some plywood, 2 by 4's, mud, clay, some trash and a vision. stupid vision.

i knew a safe / real bathroom. like it was an old workplace or house, i was familiar with it. as i was starting to go inside thru the smallish window/door, she came upon me. my dirty shoes were off. inside looked clean and pink. i am so polite.
the older lady / owner i knew from the past. nice lady. i felt guilty - she wanted me to stay, well, she offered it, if i'd help, but i was actually just still looking for a bathroom.
my shoes were filthy, full of pepples and dirt which i shook out while she talked.
she had a nice, colorful and strange place. a little hard to get to, and or to get into. might have been my grandmother. i was humbled and quietened. i shook my shoes out and left w/o using bathroom or asking about it.

i assed through a venuefull of dancing girls, pretty girls with nice make up and hair, smiles, innocent. red brick walls. i bumped right into meghan She was all smiles. we kissed, no, i kissed her, and started to keep going, but kissed her again, fully, with all my love, this happened a few times before i kept going through, i had to (leave), something driving me, supposedly the bathroom, but i think i knew the bathroom was a cover up the whole dream. i was concerned with the CIA and mind control.

all the girls were blushing and all smiles and shyness and giggles. i wanted to stay with meghan, but...

i was part of a "gang" of sorts - gliding around the streets somehow.. until i found two bikes disguised as trash. handlebar on mine was all warped, the other was better. steering seemed as if it'd be difficult. with the bikes was all this "junk" which as soon as we saw it we thought "everything we need is in this pile" - even if we didnt know how or why, each piece was important, perhaps we could even discover what to do / plans by going thru the junk, which was pressed together into strange forms, almost making walls, walls made of art. wall art.
on the bike i left, pulled in front of everyone else, peddling around and around but not going fast at all, as it was a tiny bike. i saw 3 CIA in the median, aware they were watching me, they were 'manning' a construction orange light up sign, the sort that spells out directives such as 'left lane closed ahead'
they were in all black, dressed like cops. i didnt care. i knew they werent coming right then, just watching. a large dark skinned 'african' man, sweating, spitting like daffy duck towards me, trying to tell me something, but such gibberish. i thought him insane. shouting nonsense, how would i ever discover a message? i had no good reason to stop my slow ride for him. i was saying "fuck you" to him. this is when i woke.

there was a whole scene in which the details are much more fuzzy. a house, focused on one person, but full of people. i would be mentally harassed there, via vibes and stares, and groups of unspeaking hostile suits, demons, glaring. sweaty faces. no one else seemed to notice them or care.
i only wanted to be alone with this person. never could. i dont remember who it was. i was livid and ready to fight. one in particular, blonde guy, i wanted him dead. he was a really evil thing. mischevious fuckers.