Cataloguing notable progress of www.subvertcentral.com, with interviews, mixtapes and topical reports.
Featured post
VIDA DE-sign by Michael Buckingham, aka Mick Muttley
Dear friends (yeah really, one of those) I have become a women's wear designer for VIDA! http://shopvida.com/collections/voices/ ...
Wednesday, 30 March 2011
SubVersion Stop 112: A Cognitive Trail Of Abstraction [relmicstatute.com]
Familiar starts, also ensure health of Music Box sound. Say "Greetings, hello" to David Horner. With "A Cognitive Trail..." we're splayed within gentle jetstreams. As Relmic Statute, he's conjured superb tape collage, live and polished...
This is Dave's first own site sell. Prior he gigged with Experimedia's J. Bible, Rameses III; Home Normal - at Tower Hamlet's live 'n' cosy Flea Pit, South London, March 09. Hibernate's free shows in Yorkshire, too. "...Of Abstraction", a bargain £3 for 4 quality files, is also sold in Wav or FLAC. So I don't need Roland Rat to help scratch. Find a fiver instead!
Drone contingents: density, smoothed - teleport genies around Statute. Via cutting technology; emblems, we're assured of runtime. Placid compromise: under 30 minutes - less than MC40's (20 minutes a side); 1/3 of C90 tape investment. Pre-"idea9", then. As in mathematics / Folklore, number 9 has been trauma-based. Basic timetable theory gives 9 tough prefix in times/divide scales. Hisorically, we have dialling codes for emergency services, tied around this infinite body.
Troubles dissolve by Horner's drums - he line-dances to Burial's crusty swing-time dubstep BPM. Vitally, drinking in residue of two isolated contexts (street, country). And the drums - subtracting Hyperdub's ice rink [neutrality] like a sprinkler - beyond Southern subcultural timecode. David, as far back as 2004's "Sitting Under The Lantern's Glow" (Cotton Goods CD-R) has pushed rural bustle (single track signposts), husk (organic production processes) and buskers (budding field recordists, Horner a Chris Watson of Midlands Britain), towards continental growth.
Live, handling precision tools, PC, long-standing machinery, sellotape, and slender fingers - so, rabid charity box spirits, exit your shadow land. Now the 'sharity' ideology, where limited editions preserve like frozen Van Gough's, accumulate worth online. Not only for 'Statute's fascination, "Water Colours" injects nailgun chlorine to tape's predecessor: lo-fi vinyl. Through 3 decades, 'Home Taping Is Killing Music' media-(mong)ers, belligerently hacked 'the' worst copyright - since carp interbreeding. Right to share treasures: pecked by ravens, tossed as garbage. Hence propulsion - via rising exponents of modern jiggery-pokery, distance industry; freeing innovator radicalization, whatever structure.
Physical, and property abuse, created vinyl and cassette outbreaks in early 90s. David's echoes of casuality (Top Trumps, Pokemon and Pogs fanatics unite) welcomes us back. Succinctly: tape and wax won't survive if they come undone from spindle. That spindle connects to others, so the machinery comes unstuck. Listening here feels like a meltdown of vernacular barriers, thusly; an upholding of archaic aurora, something which anyone aged between 12-60, will surely appreciate. Dave succeeds best on "A Cognitive Trail", because of his ability with sensitive, natural treatments. Too, egging developments of electronica's underblanket, woven in unique a-quadratics.
Pleasant subtlety opens, builds sustain, multiplies Deep House[and] micro-reels, detangling Jodie Cave's scruffy minimalist knots: dividing everything to 4 lushly separate, transcen-drones. Imposed arbitrariness of digital sampling (skip, repeat, program) is rebuilt on "A Cognitive Trail Of Abstraction", due to a) it being an EP of sorts, b) no bidding price, and c) the encouraging universal Genie. It's asking: "Will you still rub me [the record, or your hands?], tomorrow?" Tract, tact, band, even contract, Relmic Statute's lifespan is a past-time that won't be gathering rust this century.
http://music.relmicstatute.com/album/a-cognitive-trail-of-abstraction
Saturday, 26 March 2011
SubVersion Stop 111: The Outer Life Of The Introvert: DuoTalk
Pick a card. Any card. Oh, that one? Miss twice: our cards. The industry way. And indie's J. Nicholson. So arrives Spring, giving us dispositions. Change or conserve? Tackling self-esteem - confidence. Our inner therapies. Natural humans know the score. It's to cause penalty, before Wayne Rooney kick-off.
Wayne's alright really. But attracts insecurity. Overpaid industry doesn't help. Yobs latching his movement = Origa-mush. Push turns riot. We've seen enough in street-sport. Innocents' get killed; more Rooney-ish news. Aspiring signings, punting contracts. Luckily in music, the soul-grabbers show their truest blue. The introvert in all of us is given its place to think.
Rewind 5 years: public SC convo with Naphta aided fire in me. The gist - everyone should have their own linguistic - label, entity. Unique voice, bluntly. You 'dun need Rizla to grasp dem idea. Vomiting pondweed - watch that. Research Drum & Bass, associated Electronica - we'd conclude: "When did integrity turn green?" Or "I'm afraid to go out, I'll get stoned". "He's not the Messiah."
Westies ain't naughty, by Tod's standards. "Get your-self a HE-RO!" bellows a Jesus And Pals fanatic - on South Park's pre-DVD, "Mexican Frog Of Southern Sri Lanka".
Jimbo: "My best friend (Ned) is a vegetable, and..." Jesus, previously, cuts the air. "People, shut the **** UP." They can't believe it. Then the ratings tail into beef stew. Powered by deceit, Jesus' exec. producer, creates unwanted antagonism. Jesus outlines he's never worked for cash. Still, he is yanked to compete with junk programmes, on rural Canadian television. The promise: more people will listen to him. Jimbo and Jim Royle could have a good chat there!
More prosaically, there's 'quakes in Japan, Libian masochism, posion-drone in Palestine. In early 2007, at a local Fundraiser, Palestinian youth care occured. Three integral sources: Africa, England, Asia. Organised by Oxford Improvisers, relief workers, inter-communicatives. The audience, and promoters, raised £2000 + that evening. It was truly magical. Critically, amplification - for commercial discordance. Ego-eruption of Matilda and Godzilla. But hey, Matilda could actually spell 'Fruit'. Zilla just wanted a Zinger Burger. Mouthwash!
Similar ventures to that Fundraiser, make Earth spin. Totally placid, no corruption. An: "Is (my) / our effort worthwhile?" Clean enjoyment. In neurology, telling others they're: ill, need help, et al, builds unconscious 'yes' nerves. Over time, subconscious thinking rationalizes it. That allows our consciousness weaning off misdirection, white lies and remorse. Partnerships bloom as greed cuts umbillical.
I have known many peaceful individuals over the years. Lots of them are where this blog originated from. The rest remain forgotten memories. Forgiveness, means, plainly, we're ably at peace in future. You might keep your friends for life. Perhaps they'll just stay on dubplate. Worn out after twenty tries? "The best things in life aren't things", states Kimo in the TDD-approved Hawaiian rules. If that's an endorsement, I'll eat Aesop's halo. "Pass 'em out to the pavement.". Feels great seeing sun, where 'Daylight' won't burn.
"Break the norm" sang Barney Morse-Brown on his wonderful "Pray For Me". He's been a big inspiration personally. Prior to reading up on his history; then buying tickets to his gigs, he was a rising star of my Folk scene. Barney plays as Duotone, utilising cello, guitar. And unmistakably delicate vocals. John Peel, possibly an extroverted self. A nice mantra deduced: I'd rather talk a load of bollocks, than talk a load of sense. Barney and John had the balance, a symbiotic solidity, and spiritual counsel, eternally.
Because - if your gut feeling is right, the sensible - me too, at times - look like a Gogs cast. "Baby's Swing" on YouTube, is a hilarious rib at '90s critical thought. The baby starts bawling - with no swing. Ends crying happily, with a swing. The family, expands...retracts molecular iron. Fizzing with crackle. Then, episode over. Onto the next cheap thrill, for the comedy era-ttic. Unless we have flea treatment to hand. Contemporary art struggles to thrive in contaminated space.
Communication suffers, too. People are so pent-up cloning Byzantine, impressing their pseudo-peers, that an Empire: websites, relationships, power of group intellect, offline or on...falls in stabs to outer thigh. Not even Spartacus can help with that; he's left the battle, served his lot. Whereas less fearful, i.e. Jamie Oliver, have attempted to breed counter-crash culture, in schooling suppression, biodiversity, and parenting ethics. Whatever mannerisms.
So let's put a new card on the table, from the intro to the extra. My SubVersion resolution. The swing to any King. I know I know, it might be Jack. There's heart here, though. A keystone of 17th Century card culture. Kings' and Queens' used Jack, towards occult murder. The Ripper mysteries, especially. Putting LSD in his lactic acid. I can't catch every bus either. Assimilated to scripture, where the King and Queen still reigned supreme.
Wherever you go worldwide, only solution is Macbeth. Shakespeare tears archetypes of presidency, ancestry; to pieces - reversing ecosystems. Via weight of neuro-transmissions, psychic trust, and Duotone's brilliant "Work Harder..." LP, maybe, in dreams or clear reality: one day you'll find him, their, her...collective birth into a new species - an "Outvert", as Polska might have it.
Off, out, up and under, 2011 will be better than the last days faced by every artist, human, and dream image, in existence today. It's time for change.
Wayne's alright really. But attracts insecurity. Overpaid industry doesn't help. Yobs latching his movement = Origa-mush. Push turns riot. We've seen enough in street-sport. Innocents' get killed; more Rooney-ish news. Aspiring signings, punting contracts. Luckily in music, the soul-grabbers show their truest blue. The introvert in all of us is given its place to think.
Rewind 5 years: public SC convo with Naphta aided fire in me. The gist - everyone should have their own linguistic - label, entity. Unique voice, bluntly. You 'dun need Rizla to grasp dem idea. Vomiting pondweed - watch that. Research Drum & Bass, associated Electronica - we'd conclude: "When did integrity turn green?" Or "I'm afraid to go out, I'll get stoned". "He's not the Messiah."
Westies ain't naughty, by Tod's standards. "Get your-self a HE-RO!" bellows a Jesus And Pals fanatic - on South Park's pre-DVD, "Mexican Frog Of Southern Sri Lanka".
Jimbo: "My best friend (Ned) is a vegetable, and..." Jesus, previously, cuts the air. "People, shut the **** UP." They can't believe it. Then the ratings tail into beef stew. Powered by deceit, Jesus' exec. producer, creates unwanted antagonism. Jesus outlines he's never worked for cash. Still, he is yanked to compete with junk programmes, on rural Canadian television. The promise: more people will listen to him. Jimbo and Jim Royle could have a good chat there!
More prosaically, there's 'quakes in Japan, Libian masochism, posion-drone in Palestine. In early 2007, at a local Fundraiser, Palestinian youth care occured. Three integral sources: Africa, England, Asia. Organised by Oxford Improvisers, relief workers, inter-communicatives. The audience, and promoters, raised £2000 + that evening. It was truly magical. Critically, amplification - for commercial discordance. Ego-eruption of Matilda and Godzilla. But hey, Matilda could actually spell 'Fruit'. Zilla just wanted a Zinger Burger. Mouthwash!
Similar ventures to that Fundraiser, make Earth spin. Totally placid, no corruption. An: "Is (my) / our effort worthwhile?" Clean enjoyment. In neurology, telling others they're: ill, need help, et al, builds unconscious 'yes' nerves. Over time, subconscious thinking rationalizes it. That allows our consciousness weaning off misdirection, white lies and remorse. Partnerships bloom as greed cuts umbillical.
I have known many peaceful individuals over the years. Lots of them are where this blog originated from. The rest remain forgotten memories. Forgiveness, means, plainly, we're ably at peace in future. You might keep your friends for life. Perhaps they'll just stay on dubplate. Worn out after twenty tries? "The best things in life aren't things", states Kimo in the TDD-approved Hawaiian rules. If that's an endorsement, I'll eat Aesop's halo. "Pass 'em out to the pavement.". Feels great seeing sun, where 'Daylight' won't burn.
"Break the norm" sang Barney Morse-Brown on his wonderful "Pray For Me". He's been a big inspiration personally. Prior to reading up on his history; then buying tickets to his gigs, he was a rising star of my Folk scene. Barney plays as Duotone, utilising cello, guitar. And unmistakably delicate vocals. John Peel, possibly an extroverted self. A nice mantra deduced: I'd rather talk a load of bollocks, than talk a load of sense. Barney and John had the balance, a symbiotic solidity, and spiritual counsel, eternally.
Because - if your gut feeling is right, the sensible - me too, at times - look like a Gogs cast. "Baby's Swing" on YouTube, is a hilarious rib at '90s critical thought. The baby starts bawling - with no swing. Ends crying happily, with a swing. The family, expands...retracts molecular iron. Fizzing with crackle. Then, episode over. Onto the next cheap thrill, for the comedy era-ttic. Unless we have flea treatment to hand. Contemporary art struggles to thrive in contaminated space.
Communication suffers, too. People are so pent-up cloning Byzantine, impressing their pseudo-peers, that an Empire: websites, relationships, power of group intellect, offline or on...falls in stabs to outer thigh. Not even Spartacus can help with that; he's left the battle, served his lot. Whereas less fearful, i.e. Jamie Oliver, have attempted to breed counter-crash culture, in schooling suppression, biodiversity, and parenting ethics. Whatever mannerisms.
So let's put a new card on the table, from the intro to the extra. My SubVersion resolution. The swing to any King. I know I know, it might be Jack. There's heart here, though. A keystone of 17th Century card culture. Kings' and Queens' used Jack, towards occult murder. The Ripper mysteries, especially. Putting LSD in his lactic acid. I can't catch every bus either. Assimilated to scripture, where the King and Queen still reigned supreme.
Wherever you go worldwide, only solution is Macbeth. Shakespeare tears archetypes of presidency, ancestry; to pieces - reversing ecosystems. Via weight of neuro-transmissions, psychic trust, and Duotone's brilliant "Work Harder..." LP, maybe, in dreams or clear reality: one day you'll find him, their, her...collective birth into a new species - an "Outvert", as Polska might have it.
Off, out, up and under, 2011 will be better than the last days faced by every artist, human, and dream image, in existence today. It's time for change.
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