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 Now online (2)belb -crazone ...and 128 guests Last 5 registered Oplandisks nothingstar N_loop yipe foxtrotromeo Browse members... |
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2007, my peak xltronic moment. i am on mushrooms as i am watching scarface. being quiet, so as to not wake my parents. i feel like i'm about to pass out. i fight it. as i have done mushrooms approximately four times at this point, fuck you, fuck you. fighting it, i record this track, and make a stupid web page for it. special thanks to ceephax acid krew, kerrier district 2, and telephone noises. also the first time i ever plugged the aux 2/3 out of the mixer simply back into another mixer channel |
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this is excellent! like tangerine dream meets phthalocyanine, which is not exactly a combination you hear often. sounds like it had a pretty traumatic birth, psychedelics and "fighting it" can be harsh |
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i distinctly remember visualizing one of the more non-telephone sequences as a bunch of elves in a car with underbody lighting. the explosions of casio drums and telecom confusion, however, more direct phthalocyanine? bad boy wiki p sez ~ Phthalocyanine (H2Pc) is a large, aromatic, macrocyclic, organic compound with the formula (C8H4N2)4H2 and is of theoretical or specialized interest. It is composed of four isoindole units linked by nitrogen atoms. H2Pc has a two-dimensional geometry and a ring system consisting of 18 π-electrons. The extensive delocalization of the π-electrons affords the molecule useful properties, lending itself to applications in dyes and pigments. Metal complexes derived from Pc2−, the conjugate base of H2Pc, are valuable in catalysis, organic solar cells, and photodynamic therapy in short, i have know idea wat u mean |
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sounds like it had a pretty traumatic birth, no, not really. i was bemused, but defiant. the track just exudes "so there." what chu gonnadue |
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planet mu artist not pigment! Phthalocyanine 25 Tracks Fer 1 Track ZIQ019 “Phthalocyanine’s lo-fi electronic adventuring is dense and massively messy. It obeys its own auto-destructive, scattershot illogic, stuttering and leaking lo-fi noises in a staggering, multidirectional chaos. Crude beat-blasts occasionally puncture the mix. Rhythm clips ricochet off sounds like bursts of small arms fire. Prismatic melodies circle off-pace. Foggy banks of synth noise puff up and seep out across a bubbling swamp of electronic noise.” (THE WIRE) |
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on a subsequent mushroom trip, i had this amazing idea. then i got on the internet and found out some bastard had already named it granular synthesis what about glandular synthesis? no, drat, wMw has the patent there |
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but is it on youtube |
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i guess i'm projecting somewhat - i've never had a "fighting it" experience with shrooms but i definitely have with acid. trying to play a guitar with 2 butterknives, compose legal arguments against the bilderberg group and explain myself telepathically in rhyme to imaginary fireflies... that was difficult |
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queasy listening, i'm a big phthalo fan |
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i was not fighting the shrooms at all. quite the opposite. you see, george w. bush was president at the time (bootgnote: i never thought i'd miss george w. bush, but there you go.... anyways). i was watching scarface on shrooms, and i was mad at george w. bush. just, like, the fuck do you think you are, dickface? it was clearly an unwitting exmutation of my childish rage, in retrospect, but i channeled it admirably, realizing it was clearly the time to lay down stereo to mini-disc. meanwhile, however, i was fighting the urge to lose consciousness, and that would mean the end of what i was experiencing -- and, consequently, all the fussing with the gear would be for nothing, and fuck that. i would really say, you can hear at the end, that's pretty much where i was it -- sort of briefly gated snapshots of reality, clinging on through a series of polaroids. i don't remember what happened after i stopped the minidisc, but i do suspect i lay down. |
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hah right i getcha now. i was imagining a different kind of fuck you i think |
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it was the sort of fuck-you you'd give to your car as it was malfunctioning on your way to an appointment: fuck you, fuck you. i will not let you blow this for me |
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but then, the track, there was the more teenage angsty fuck-you, towards george w. bush. that's part of what kept me conscious. rage. which, frankly, was not something i felt anywhere near as strongly as before eating mushrooms that evening. it was all quite hilarious to me. but, totally, fuck you if i'm not getting a track out of this |
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