This story has been told hundreds of times by now: the story about this mysterious woman who got in her Volkswagon and drove away, never to be seen again. In the days leading up to her disappearance, she had written letters to friends and family, saying her goodbyes. She was a singer-songwriter who dropped
The Soft Moon “Breathe the Fire” (128 kbps) We at Hydra have been blowing up the speakers with The Soft Moon’s uncanny soundtracks for the post-apocalypse. The effort of Bay Area musician and visual artist, Luis Vasquez, The Soft Moon just broke a debut 7″ record, Breathe The Fire, on Captured Tracks. And,
The creation of necessitousness (not need! but the feeling of being necessary) in poetry bathes the inevitability of the poetic line in the moonshine of desire– of passionately feeling that some thing must be this way (or that). Creating this requires that the poet put down the words in such a way that the
It’s hard to keep up with Madlib. The Los Angeles multi-instrumentalist and producer relentlessly breaks headway in the spectrums of hip-hop, jazz, and experimental electronic production. In 2010 he’s releasing an album every month (at the least) on Stones Throw Records, and chances are, they’re all call for many replays. Although in the midst
Before Homer’s Odysseus there was a certain Atra-Hasis, king of the Shurruppak in the Fertile Crescent before the flood, who became an enemy to the lazy gods because of his desire to make tools and survive the disaster (1800 BCE). Before Atra-Hasis, there was one Who Saw the Deep, ol’ Gilgamesh, who probably ruled
Summer, 2009: At the far end of an island, I found myself pulled down, pulled to pieces, pulled in half. Should I stay or should I go I asked myself many times. And as many times, I had no answer. So I smoked and I drank and I began to work on my epic
The poetry realm, with its current pressures of multiplicity, market-value, and massification, has devolved to a mathematics of representation. The representation urge stems from the google-culture we've helped build, nurture, and augment with voluntary aplomb.
I wanted to start off this post feigning nostalgia for Al Jarnow’s amazing films, but I admit in a rare act of self-effacing honesty that I have no childhood attachment to the experimental and educational filmmaker’s work. I didn’t grow up in the 70s watching Yaks bash into the screen on Sesame Street, nor
