Saturday, November 20, 2010

A few albums I need to pick up:

This is just a short list of a few albums I've been meaning to pick up, or want to purchase upon their release.

Kevin Hufnagel: Songs for the Disappeared
This album is amazing. Fans of Dysrhythmia know Kevin's work well. This solo album features layer upon layer upon layer of classical and acoustic guitar. He often employs his guitars to fashion a percussive sound, which I find musically very interesting.

Art Zoyd: Nosferatu
It's Art Zoyd, need I say more? This 1988 album, like other Art Zoyd albums, is a musical score meant to accompany a film; in this case, F. W. Murnau's Nosferatu. Art Zoyd's album written to accompany Faust is one of my favorite pieces of music.

Gorguts: Yet to be released:
This new incarnation of Gorguts features founder Luc Lemay, and amazingly inducted two of my favorite musicians, Colin Marston and the aforementioned Kevin Hufnagel. This audio is just a teaser montage. I especially love the clip from 4:15 to the end. I feel this section perfectly showcases each musician's individual voice, yet they manage to perfectly complement eachother and form one higher voice. This is something, in my opinion, few "supergroups" are ever able to pull off.

Kevin Ayers: The Joy of a Toy

I really enjoy some of the tracks off of this album.

Friday, November 12, 2010

"It is new, indeed, for I made it last night in a dream of strange cities; and
dreams are older than brooding Tyre, or the contemplative Sphinx, or garden-girdled Babylon." 

Sunday, November 7, 2010

Nostalgiastic Death/"card without a name":

This is to us Chad. We had something, but my wrists had other plans. We'll get there again someday, hopefully on higher planes and in better places.

Chad: guitar
Me: drums
Jeremy: film

PURPLE HEARTS from Jeremy Knickerbocker on Vimeo.

Friday, November 5, 2010

Ann Demeulemeester F 2010


For the last two and a half years (give or take) I have been experiencing a series of strange communications.  I hesitate to label this preternatural because I can think of nothing more natural than my Messenger.  When my empyrean friend speaks his message (it has a male voice) has a range of only one word to a short sentence.  Though he is brief he has yet to be wrong or even muddled.  Now that I sit to write this I have just realized that his messages are usually warnings, but I can think of at least two occurances when they have instead  been a preview of a soon coming event or a signpost.  I never realize what the message means until it comes to pass, but when it does (and he has yet to let me down)  the accuracy of my internal companian is veritably sealed.
I'm not yet certain how I feel about sharing this subject.  Due to this I am a little leery about posting this.  Not leery because I fear that some will believe me to be crazy or a liar, that doesn't concern me; it's just that I have yet to decide how private I'd like to be about this sort of thing.  I have discussed this with a couple of people that I know won't judge me.  One of them is a person more adept than I in this area.  When I told her that I love this phenomena and I only wish it happened more often and was more of a discourse, she responded, "No!  Don't wish for that.  I made that mistake and now it is a flood I can't hold back.  Ask instead that you can understand it more clearly."  That makes sense, but I still want more.
Honestly, I'm not certain if my guide is actually a part of me or is some external force that aids me.  To me it does not matter.  I do not need to assign doctrine to my helper.  I just wonder what he'll say next.

Some more Portal:

From the first moment I heard these guys I knew their was something special about their music. Also, in addition to the fact that they are amazing on a purely musical level, their lyrics are often inspired by H.P. Lovecraft, whom I also have great love for.

Wednesday, November 3, 2010


The lines between this and my Mind Beam Receptaculum blog may intersect from time to time (Bare Take isn't supposed to contain things I myself have created), but I blog for myself, so no harm done. A poem by me:


I, a moon that can never reach you, but remains drawn to you through the ages.
The light that showers us both is answered by blooming in you,
But my surface is cold and void of life.
No voices to bounce echoes over this terrain.

How cruel a sentence, an Existence tethered to Sophia.
Pressed against Isis’ window, never beckoned, never to enter.

Send me to wander.
Banish me to the skies.
I pray to be the hermit and nomad in the wilderness.
Then I might find relief in the solace that is the absence of this Beautiful one.
Better to cry out into utter nothingness than to be answered by the reminder of what is forever held at an all too near distance.

Do I possess an unfeigned desire to break loose from this orbit that has captured me?
Is the anguish of ensnarement the sole sensation that can remind me I’m alive?

You, the planet which teems with life; a visible pulse in your fruits.
Your moon longs to float away into the company of shadows in the depths; into peace.

Street of Crocodiles

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

It's kind of hard to believe that this is from 1991. To me it's timeless.  Such a natural combination/melding of elements.