Etheridge Knight Knows Longing
As You Leave Me
Shiny record albums scattered over the living room floor, reflecting light from the lamp, sharp reflections that hurt my eyes as I watch you, squatting among the platters, the beer foam making mustaches on your lips.
And, too, the shadows on your cheeks from your long lashes fascinate me—almost as much as the dimples in your cheeks, your arms and your legs.
You hum along with Mathis—how you love Mathis! with his burnished hair and quicksilver voice that dances among the stars and whirls through canyons like windblown snow, sometimes I think that Mathis could take you from me if you could be complete without me. I glance at my watch. It is now time.
You rise, silently, and to the bedroom and the paint; on the lips red, on the eyes black, and I lean in the doorway and smoke, and see you grow old before my eyes, and smoke, why do you chatter while you dress? and smile when you grab your large leather purse? don’t you know that when you leave me I walk to the window and watch you? and light a reefer as I watch you? and I die as I watch you disappear in the dark streets to whistle and smile at the johns
Freedom of Internet
There is no easy way to get through a media revolution of this magnitude; the task before us now is to experiment with new ways of using a medium that is social, ubiquitous and cheap, a medium that changes the landscape by distributing freedom of the press and freedom of assembly as widely as freedom of speech. (Clay Shirky)
La Blogotheque: Keeping it Raw
A musicians ability to perform live has to be one of the longest standing measures in judging artistic quality. The more adjusted an artist is toward improvisation is what truly makes a musician.
The French website — La Blogotheque — produces raw, and uncut music videos of eclectic artist performing in unusual environments and captures intimate magic in each performance.
Just when you thought Ian McCulloch was no longer performing on the scene, La Blogotheque films a charming performance of “Killing Moon,” — shot in a dim lighted room with cigarette smoke acting as prop, and a staggering voice that makes the song sound contemporary even though it’s more than 25 years old.
Cannibal Flower: An Inconsiderate Twist of Art
There’s nothing better than finding a parking space in the loading zone across the street from the art venue on Spring St., and congregating with the Inconsiderate Orca in the parking lot in hopes of scheming a fun night at Cannibal Flower.
As expected Cannibal Flower (other than the DJ at moments) was a complete success. As we walked toward the venue across the street from the Hive Gallery, in Downtown, it was evident we were walking into the underground scene I’ve always imagined. Moments before heading onto the elevator, my homie joked about seeing Particle the night before and humored us about Steve Mullets’, Elevator Jam, and mentioned how he stays elevated throughout his performances. Pushing the button to the second floor, the elevator attendant mentioned to us what to do in case we got stuck on our way to the second floor (which was: “Yell out open, and i’ll rush to the second floor, and open the door for you”).
Cramming into the tiny elevator you could feel the tension everyone was feeling as the elevator missed the second floor, and we were suddenly a floor up. The thought of being stuck in the elevator and missing the show crossed all our minds, and as the doors flung open — we grabbed the equipment and took the stairs.