Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Rope Cosmetology: Hour Five, April 9, 2009...

Here's Rope Cosmetology, running through "Grateful, But Some Fur," one of the eight compositions hammered out during our three-week recording marathon in Hannover. We assayed this, and six of the remaining seven, at our final April 11th performance at Silke Arp Bricht. A very intense show...

Rope Cosmetology:

Feri Kovacs - saxophone
Ryan Parrish - percussion
Tim Lane Seaton - bass guitar
Tom Smith - voice (and videography)
Balazs Pandi - The Wraith

The great Pit Noack, my partner-in-crime in the duo Three Resurrected Drunkards, is the fellow crouched over at the recording deck. The majority of our rehearsals were captured on Tascam four-track, courtesy of Herr Noack. (German engineering rules.) Many more hours of rough takes, sketches, dry runs of the set, and an extraordinarily gnarled 28-minute excerpt of our Paris debut were recorded straight to digital via H2 Zoom.



Stay Focused,

TS

Crowd Heckled Kirsten, Her, You...

TLASILA - Lifeline vs. Death



This collision has been several weeks in the making; its completion was delayed by the necessities of the Rope Cosmetology recording sessions and micro-tour. Today I found a few extra minutes and knocked out the final track...

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(Seven tracks, 30.1 MB, ripped @ 320.)

Here.

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Guests ignoring corner,

TS

RIP Marilyn Chambers...

Damn... It's very sad to learn of Ms. Chambers' death. As a sexual performer -- at least when she was in her prime -- she was shockingly feral. I saw Insatiable (and Insatiable 2!) with my friend Amy Capen at a fetid (and long-since razed) DC XXX-kino in the early '80s, and we were both taken aback by the ease with which she shifted into states of utter physical emancipation. Too fucking much... I followed her mainstream career for a time as well - I loved her in Cronenberg's Rabid, and even saw the lamentable Angel of H.E.A.T. at the old Ashley Cinema in Valdosta, Georgia. She could act, but she never managed to break through... When I was writing the songs for TLASILA's An Interview with the Mitchell Brothers album in August 1995 in Miami, I based the texts on pertinent chapters in Kenneth Turan's superb history of the early porn industry, Sinema, and sticky, too-frequently viewed Mitchell Brothers VHS tapes rented from an adult stuporstore in North Beach. Even today, given all we've grown accustomed to, a film like Never a Tender Moment has the capacity to astound... As she got older, she began to look more like a Montana casino cashier than a succubi, and one account of her passing indicates she died alone, in a trailer, but what the Hell, she seized the moment, and made a fecund, ever-palpitating slice of Americana -- one quickly guzzled by depressive straights and shrieking freaks from Des Moines to Abu Dabi -- all her own.



Rest in Peace...

TS