Saturday, March 07, 2009

Ooooooooh... The Ache Is a Rake...

Silly Art Fick #23 at Silke Arp Blicht was a kick in the haphazardly trimmed trews, a blackout to remember.

First up was Audible Pain, a grim-visaged cabal whose woeful handle promised little more than trillionth-generation regurgitations of long-desanguinated themes. An exceptional rumbling passage put lie to the prognostication, but bracketing groans and middling shrieks reinforced suspicions. The audience offered a collective cough of approval, however, and A-Pain did another lap around the chop shop...



Bohrmaschine Privat presented a more agreeable set of criteria. Twelve computer-controlled power drills, mounted on armatures, were routed through a mixer and coaxed through a series of miniatures. Technical problems foiled intent, but the larger point was successfully made. Nice...



Pit and I performed as Three Resurrected Drunkards for the first time, although this was our second gig as a duo. We ran through four compositions: "Bluebeard Gives the Key to His Wife," "Prohibitionally Yours" (both of which were assayed in December), a new piece, "No Curtain Now/Then," and a version of Sam the Sham and the Pharaohs' "Little Red Riding Hood" that replaced the original's 60s Mex-Tex stomp with Herr Noack's manipulated cassette abstractions. The melody survived our attack on its territorial integrity.







(See Karl Schmidt Verlag 014 for another set of ruminations on the song.)

Lastly, the fine Doombruder. Plying a variation of Harry Pussy's early '93 trade, the Bremen duo soared for an hour, then crashed on approach. Afterwards, the scarred air marshals tucked into a 40-year-old port, which was kindly shared with yours truly...





Claudia spun NDW (and tangentially related) discs at the beginning of the evening, and I took over around 1:00 with a dubstep set that ended around 5:40. CP fed me vodka all night, so by the time I'd doubled back to Heavens Gate HQ I was well deep-fried. We hopped a cab, stumbled into our flat, and sank without a trace...

Now? My pores are weeping caustic lime. Life rarely gets better...

TS