One of the conundrums with physically and (up until Afternoons Modeling in Dream Castle’s case) digitally rare music is it’s impossible to find on resale or in torrents, but when located, there’s such a tension melt moment from the music itself that all previous concerns and worries just float away. Thus, as previously mentioned, Afternoons Modeling just saved all your asses and brought you to the Tanning Salon. And within six suites, you’ll be blissfully relaxed in a zone that’s only meant for serious drifters. Yet, a serious drifter is inside all of us. It’s just a matter of reaching that Dream Castle in your mind’s sky.
Another conundrum of physically and digitally rare music is it’s vitality. You’d expect releases like Dream Castle to be as momentary as the blog that may have been made and deleted in the Tannin Salon name. But quite the opposite, as the lack of directness in presentation, including the drift of the music itself, by-way of comparing it to that cool breeze that comes along and is easily as forgotten, the joyousness of memory is beheld by tones. No matter if these sounds are intricate or progressive or copied or [etc.], the memory of when-and-where stirs in listeners when releases like Dream Castle pop back up. And as this comparison can be used with Chopin to Red Hot Chili Peppers b-sides, the intention of Tanning Salon is practically literal.
As the conundrum’s pile in, think of Dream Castle exactly like the tan you gripped while feeling that cool breeze: as lasting as skin cells dying out, there’ll always be the digital age prepared to drift back into your life. Afternoons Modeling supports this by releasing some of the incomparable and bombed-out releases that’ll momentarily bring you to pure peace, while dropping you as quick as they come. This is an extreme positive in a generation of music makers that can click, download, click, create, click, share. Afternoons Modeling is a memory tank. You’ll always be able to come back to Tanning Salon’s waves of thought. And there’s no direct or intentional though in Tanning Salon’s music (as it’s instrumental and lyric-less), but YOUR OWN conjured thoughts.
The conundrum of thought in instrumental music will forever be encapsulated by the modern generation’s heavy influx of albums/mixtapes/releases. There’s only one commonality with ALL the music being made today, and it’s completely political (in sound, specifically) to the Internet. Whether it’s a violin being played at home streaming it to a small audience online (or there-after, place upon YouTube), or a single synthetic-key machine, whatever you make will be in comparison to the Internet. Specifically because this is exactly where most people find their music today. So if it’s an orchestra concert you found out about on Facebook or Dream Castle by Tanning Salon, the politics of the Internet is purely instigative of thought in terms of lyric-less music. The intent is general and given to the person to decide.
Let freedom reign within the Dream Castle. We can all be attached in a state of URL minds. Visit Afternoons Modeling for a few more ideas on yourself and how you interact on the Internet alone or with others. But most importantly, get yourself a good lax via Tanning Salon. You’ve come this far virtually. It’s time to kick up a heel or two, girl.
GFOTY Boiler Room & SXSW DJ Set
While the audio for GFOTY’s set has been released for a little while, it’s the video of her Boiler Room performance that shows why the divisive label PC Music has achieved such success, much to the excitement (or utter chagrin) of the DJ world. Boiler Room is the first major time most music audiences are seeing GFOTY. Other than her Halloween stream via PC Music, there’s not been much visual recording of live sets. And the Halloween stream was more video art than a live art. The big question about this set, GFOTY’s first public broadcast, is whether the crash-and-burn style set is unintentional or performance art.
GFOTY enters in American flag print with a hood, Beats by Dre headphones, and takes a sip from an enormously large, perfect-for-a-music-festival martini glass. She begins as expected, playing some PC Music tracks (with A .G. Cook at her side) at the same time as dancing (something “forbidden” for “serious” DJs) like the girl-at-the-club she is. From there, GFOTY speeds up and slows down everyone’s favorite party songs, screaming the titles as she refuses to “properly” mix. About halfway through, her decks seem to mess up, and she begins to apologize over the mic, then suddenly starts singing over songs like “Cameltoe,” then apologizes for being a bad DJ, then says how she’s getting paid so much money to DJ SXSW. She calls Cook to help her with the CDJ. She smokes a cigarette as Spinee begins to set up besides her.
GFOTY seems to be interested in music as a commodity. Rather than record a set that will get lost in the sea of other Boiler Room videos, GFOTY chooses to evoke an excessive stereotype of the cool, messy club girl, who everyone thinks is only a DJ because she fucked her way to the top, drunk and high the whole time. This performed self can’t mix and talks about wanting to fuck onstage. GFOTY reclaims this sterotype and does a performance that uses elements of DJing in order to speak more deeply to a live (and streamed) audience. Her covers of tracks and spontaneous yelling through the mic calls to mind Björk, for a post-Miley Cyrus generation, the next natural step after Grimes’s controversial playing of the Vengaboys in her Boiler Room. The highlight is GFOTY’s live rendition of her own track “Friday Night,” where she yells over the music without care while showcasing the song’s true (excellent) nature. It all seems like an appropriate way to showcase GFOTY’s digital persona live. Her tracks when played over the internet are interjected with digital garbage, so of course her live performances must be filled with unexpected glitches.
Maybe this is all an overanalysis of PC Music, but then again, this is a group where one of the artists (QT) has stated her music is all an advertisement for an energy drink.
A. G. Kush
“Herbivore” / “satellites over me” feat. luv2
You know how technology (specifically computers/software) double their time-cycle each update? Keep that in mind. Because it’s no secret A.G. Kush isn’t “ripping off” anyone else. Aside from his PC Music and Manicure Records lawlz antics, there’s no doubt that tracks like “Herbivore” are ALSO a progression of a different sound already made. Like, cast from the samples used, you could pair it to a number of electronic tracks that’ve come out throughout the years [available for creation]. But to intentionally digress, the progression of A.G. Kush’s music (outside of being a legit and respected “rip-off artist”) follows this same template of doubling technology. So much so you could pair a bunch of different track to “Herbivore,” and feel like it’s still beyond the reach of what listeners are used to hearing; um, progression.
DOUBLE WHAMMY!!! ‘Cause I don’t like being heady all at once, A.G. Kush is on the luv2 roll with “satellites over me.” Coming in at (just shy of) a minute, the two bangers (outside the Pedicure camp, as I believe “Herbivore” is a legit PD-S) get a funk that’s so brief, it can only be listened to on a half hour repeat. Though, don’t you want to reach a level where “satellites over me” isn’t a concern anymore. Can’t we all just get high and party? And I’m not talking pills or powder, I’m talking reefer high. I’m talking, “I’m not trying to smoke pot to feel like I’m on drugs” …high. Or just listen to the new A.G. Kush and luv2 collab below and feel it before the next hit:
Smoke In The Elevator
HEL Audio, Utah-based label for regional experimental and electronic music, equipped a hydraulic lift with fog machines, dropped in a moonlit desert, and allowed Kari Jørgensen to evolve on her own terms. Kari’s current form, Smoke In The Elevator, began in 2013 after a string of bedroom releases under her The Boy Who Could Fly moniker. Through three albums (BRAIN CLOUD, Kindrgarten, and Slays a Badness), Kari built a small island for whatever needed refuge. Her sound, soft and personal, is everywhere now as indie makes another resurgence, but that isn’t the breath Smoke In The Elevator sits in.
Bobo is her walk through computer-generated composition that gets as isolated as The Boy Who Could Fly and as mythic as the moonlit desert scenario that’s in my head and the first sentence of this post. Layers of vocals are big on here, and with her use of synths and drums in an almost hypnotic way, Smoke In The Elevator evokes comparisons to Visions but only to a point. Use of flute and horns in tracks like “Pure Obsessional” and the near-literal soaring in “Condor” (video by Paul Baribeau) all give Bobo their own land. A place for it’s own, but still in arms reach of her last.
You can grab Smoke In The Elevator along with Kari’s work with Ben Best and a personal favorite Braeyden Jae’s Culture Complicit on HEL Audio.
And if you’re in Salt Lake City, catch HEL Audio’s Industry showcases at Diabolical Records.
S. Araw "Trio" XI
║(O)║♫ ♪ ♫ ♪
▄ █ ▄ █ ▄ ▄ █ ▄ █ ▄ █
Min- - - - - - - - - - - -●Max
Kyoto-based AUJIK is helping us to realize the Garden visually.
Here’s what AUJIK says:
AUJIK is constructed as an esoteric cult that derives from Shugendo and Yamabushi monks.
They believe in animism and are exploring the boundaries between technology and nature,
using AGI (Artificial General Intelligence) as a spiritual compass. Their films are visual
manifestations of their often abstract theories.This is (1) of (2) pieces AUJIK is making of the Garden, (2)
is much more elaborate because it’s much further into the Garden.