Friday, October 12, 2012

Yyyeeeeeaaaaaarrrghghghghhhhh!

Here's what I think about lotus, without help from the internet: there's something about forgetfulness, and something erotic. There's lotus position, lotus eaters, and flying lotus. It's a flower.



I have two CDs of screaming and screeching, heavy on the sawtooth, with the occasional chugga guitar sample. The LOTUS. The one I have on is Garbage In, LOTUS Out.

Silver Spring, motherfucker!



What I'd really like to get across is how awesomely well the guy from the LOTUS (Keith or Mat? Both maybe?) can screech. I mean if screeching was regarded highly in our society, this band would be at the top of the charts. It's like this:

Yyyyyyyyeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaggghhghhgghhhggghhhaaaaaaaaaaghghghghghghh!



Yeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrgghghghhghghghhhhhhh!

That's right. And bloopa lines on the burble-synth, and so many sawtooths and squares. It's a harsh ride, this CD. Also it's 17 minutes long so I can just put it on. It's not trying to put me on.

There's so much I could be doing. So many CDs I could be listening to. So many meals I could be eating. So many buses I could be missing. Streets to walk down, awkward interactions to sit through, fried food, beer, wine, dirt to get under my nails. Seventeen minutes of yyeeeeeaaaaaarrrrrrrrrhhhhhhhhhhhggggaaaaa! instead. Why? Why me?



"Sometimes I just need to..."



I saw this one band play called Reptile, and the deal was that they were lizards. They sang about eating humans and moved around all twitchy. The guy from Reptile is in The LOTUS too.

This: what matters to a lizard? Does a lizard make decisions? Harsh reality, man. We've got to live or die. Confront your body.



The variety of our experience is infinite in its potential, shockingly limited in its reality. Every second is another decision. We can't hold it. Mind blown, again and again. Ten years on my shelf, seventeen minutes in my ears. Ten times that time to make it. A billion records and they all took time to make. Frozen experience. Something erotic, something forgotten, a flower.



You can possess but you can't own. It will all go away. It will all melt. "Sometimes I just need to..."

Yyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaeaeaeaeaaaeaeaeaeeeaeaaaaeaeaeeaeeeerrrhghhghhhghe!



So I mean if that's what you need, this is where it is.

No comments:

Post a Comment