Schrodinger’s Egg

Autokat – The Driver

Undying unrequited love is such a perfect conception of tragedy.

I don’t think I could deal with it in real life.

I would quite happily watch a middle class French film “To learn to live to love with no return” and cry at the pathos of such a strikingly heart wrenching situation, shouting loudly at the love character to get the fuck out and move on. Of course they wouldn’t because nothing ever happens in middle class French films, but you still watch them.

If life is full of compromises this has to one of the worst. Is it really better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all?

Neu never got to remix Destroy the Heart, but on the giant golf range in heaven that Manchester’s AutoKat play at this is obviously the kinda thing that goes on. The Driver has an epic fell to it akin to M83 on a shoestiring budget.

This is a post saying how much I love this song. It will be unrequited. This time we don’t mind, as long as someone else who is reading loves it too and we can share our love as that kind of weird obsessive compulsive collective called fans.

True simplicity comes in many forms, and this recursive mantra and building riff is one of the simplest things that gets to me much in the spirit of Velvet Underground nodders.

I’m not going to look through Autokat’s rubbish or write slash fiction or anything, but I might follow them round and try and rant to them if you got me drunk at a party with them. Once you meet your idea it often destroys it as they are never the oil painting/video installation you build in your attic, but more of a doodle in biro on a serviette by the phone.

Sometimes the doodle turns out to be by Jean Michel Basquiat in which case you should carefully fold it and put it in your pocket by your heart, and look at it occasionally to remind you that life is not so bad.

Thank you Autokat for making this special sad old school indie doodle for us called The Driver.

Go buy it from the excellent Akoustic Anarkhy label.

Kevin Shields? Come on and give these guys & girls some production.

Dry your eye’s now, and forget all these maudlin human emotions as we lurch into embryonic cosmic micro dimensions and their strange rulers.

The Emperor Machine – Yes No Egg

Non of your ege bamyasi here this is the harsh tighten up flutes from ruckzuck as The Emperor Machine blast into the funk space disco electron.

Yes No Egg has the sweetest purring synth I have heard since someone circuit bent my pussy cat, with a funk as heavy as Bootsy on a supersize me binge, hold the egg.

We swear those time changes are to breakdance for, the original block party djs could have had a field day with this jam. Where Afrika Bambaataa took Kraftwerk’s electronic beats The Emperor Machine are taking b-boy rock and playing it with early organic Kraftwerk sounds, no shit!

This pisses all over all the other Kosmische disco that’s fashionable, a moment of ecstasy for the purists and new school alike.

Go get Vertical Tones & Horizontal Noise from the ever lovely people at Depth Charge Recordings hunt the nuts website.

All you prog rock hippies out there with a taste for Tonto’s Expanding Headband better start practicing your toprock moves.

We often ask ourselves if we had an egg in a box would it be a chicken.

The answer is obviously Yes No Egg.

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