Tag Archives: Fred Frith

02/16/2018 · 11:13 pm

Love At First Listen: Art Bears

If I may, I’d like to speak to the ladies a moment. The women, the females, the girls; there’s something I think you’ll find very interesting. I’m so sure of this, that I’m just gonna hit you with it cold; straight, no chaser. Afterwards, I’ll reveal why.

The following YouTube link should be cued up to the correct spot, but on the off chance it isn’t, you’re looking for the 9:04 mark: “The Slave”, from Art Bears’ 1979 album Winter Songs. The lyrics are under the link in case you’d like to read them. The words are so clearly sung, you probably won’t even need to.

https://youtu.be/tyh7hxG3Gwg?t=9m4s

Continue reading →

Comments Off on Love At First Listen: Art Bears

Filed under Faint Signals, Girls of BIUL, Late To The Party, Thousand Listen Club

Tagged as 1970s, 1978, 1979, 1980s, 1981, Art Bears, avant-rock, Chris Cutler, Dagmar Krause, Fred Frith, Henry Cow, John Zorn, Kaki King, Naked City, progressive rock, Slapp Happy, Sprechstimme

10/13/2016 · 1:48 pm

Songs To Scare You Stupid

So, maybe you’re going for a little more edge in your “haunted house”, this Halloween? Or do your fireside ghost stories need some extra oomph? Say no more, my young apprentice.

From inside Torture Garden, Naked City, 1990.

From inside Naked City, 1990.

You can do much better than “Monster Mash” and Doom soundtracks to terrify trick-or-treaters. Please help yourself to some suggestions. You with the eggs and the toilet paper; take two. Continue reading →

Comments Off on Songs To Scare You Stupid

Filed under Bad Influences, Faint Signals, Thousand Listen Club

Tagged as 1992, absinthe, Bill Frisell, Bob Elliott, Daft Punk, Fred Frith, Gaspar Noe, Godzilla, Goodfellas, Halloween, Irreversible, Joe Pesci, Joey Baron, John Zorn, Naked City, Olivier Messiaen, Skinny Puppy, Thomas Bangalter, Throbbing Gristle, Wayne Horvitz

08/29/2015 · 8:01 pm

Bouillon Cube Theory

Almost every single aspect of my personality can be explained by one simple fact: when I was a kid I ate a bouillon cube.

I was too young to know better. I had witnessed the flavor sorcery that resulted when my parents would cook with a bouillon cube. Surely, I reasoned, if it made dinner taste that good, then a whole cube of it would be a trip to flavor heaven. I even imagined it might expand into a steak or a burger, like in The Jetsons. So one evening I sneaked into the kitchen, unwrapped a beef cube, popped it in my mouth, and chewed it up. Continue reading →