Russian Tsarlag
“Screaming in a Car”

Russian Tsarlag’s output charts the long decay of a cymbal crash: from the early days of shopping carts and rollerskates to the second to last stop near the end of the line, a worn-in-western studio-staged whistle-stop going to ruin along the river of particulates. Trains do not travel here. Indeed, there are no train tracks. Transport here involves the supernatural. One must allow the pineal gland to binge and capitalize on the energy while all other organs experience malnourishment. This leads to a decrease in tempo; the longer waveforms bounce about the room, their vermicelli noodle shapes almost visible. How long does the long decay of a cymbal crash take? One worries, once in a while, about what happens when the long decay is complete…

“Screaming in a Car” might have been sung under a street lamp on the day doo-wop died. The mostly clear vocals are clear enough to trigger chills and reverberations. The narrator is trapped in trouble town, again, jiggling with terror and shot nerves. Reality, for the weary narrator, is a dimming light — first a jar, then a distant light and finally the beauty of a fading star. Fantasy might be that slime mold on the dirt floor under that dimming bulb in the basement, next to Ol’ Sparky, where a bottle sits, loaded with allergens and a “special effect” where the bottle drinks itself.

Speaking of Sparky. Technically, the juice was delivered, and the death sentence was carried out. Since he’s still breathing, or whatever it is he’s doing, we’re going to have to let him go. He isn’t quite Lazarus, and he’s no zombie. Something else…

Chocolate Grinder

CHOCOLATE GRINDER is our audio/visual section, with an emphasis on the lesser heard and lesser known. We aim to dig deep, but we’ll post any song or video we find interesting, big or small.

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