Yes, now that’s a quote by Vin Diesel, there.
In was in el Prado in Madrid last week, lost in the carnival of the Goya, the Bosch and the Brueghel, the latter’s ‘Triumph of Death’ puts to shame all feeble attempts to shock and shlock as deployed by the total loser torture porn movement, now here is terror as the living are exterminated by the skeleton hordes, if you look into the background you shall see butchered bodies hanging from trees in the midst of that apocalyptic scenario William Hope Hodgson wasn’t quite able to convey, closer to you, a skeleton which has torn the face off one of the living wears it on top of its grimacing skull and revels in the massacre, death doesn’t forgive, we know that, the problem is when the living become death, Brueghel was just reflecting on the carnage of his days, the carnage that was to come, the carnage that seems to accompany us wherever we go.
As I got ready to listen to Throbbing Gristle’s US tour exclusive new album, the Third Eye Movements, I thought that maybe it would sound like it would sound if you were inside that painting, all dust ochre, and splatter red and the yellow of cruel bone. But it doesn’t, no, TG never fail to surprise and that’s where their morbid fascination lies, The Third Eye Movements sounds nothing like that, it sounds like the devastated scenery once it’s all over, a wasteland of derelict metal structures on which you, the survivor, walk alone like one of those pathetic humans in a bedevilled version of the Fantastic Planet, surrounded by levitating unfogiving Dalek-like pyramids of skulls which slide into the eternal night like cyclopean icebergs of numb evil. It’s dark like that.
And if one was going to look for the total and fierce reverse to the onslaught of the troops of death soundtracked by Throbbing Gristle, one would be hard pressed to find anything more fitting than the ramshackle collection of beautiful folk paraphernalia that Sun City Girls bring to us in their second collection of singles (bless ’em), which goes by the name of ‘Napoleon and Josephine‘, another subversive ploy to infect all the secret, oft unbeknownst potential conspirators out there with a bizarre virus for which there is no cure. Theirs is the music of everyone, the music of laughter down some primitive road of an Indonesian forest and the music of old men sitting outside a restaurant in El Paso, chatting about this and that as the sun continues its eternal cycle in a steely sky, it’s the music of mother cheetah sparing its victim for once, the music of foxes howling at the moon in the stoney mesas, in the spaced out gaps between the humming and strumming of wood and string lies the good humoured truth of the dishevelled hermit that breaks 50 years of silence to crack a fart joke, just because he knows.
This is the sort of tune that DJs that have what it takes should use to start their sets.
Following on from the first one which was all kinds of fun, another SO BONES party is happening very soon. Friday May 1st, if you happen to be in London and you wanna shunt and sweat with us come upstairs to Catch.
This time around the usual 2OJFG DJs will be in the awesome company of the Notorious V.I.C. and Bumps (aka Dom & Eka.)