Tag Archives: music

ALIVE:ness

During the last three nights I’ve been waking up constantly. I’m slowly getting sick, or maybe not, I can’t get it. As I lay down to sleep I breath badly and my throat gets extremely dry, that’s why I wake up, a bit to drink, a bit to breathe. I’m not an early bird, I hate to leave my bed,  I’m not the type who will get a nap or lay down to relax during the day. I won’t stop until it’s time to go to bed again. I’m not an early bird, but in these days I’ve preferred to wake up early, instead of laying down feeling like shit. Everytime I’ve been waking up, I could still feel bits of uncosy dreams. Every time, inbetween dream- and real world there was music in my head: I tell you what, I tell you who. Last Saturday I went to see Mad Kate and The Tide at Supamolly. Since then I’ve been listening to their album “ALIVE:ness” dozens of times. I’ve been barely listening to anything else. I’m purely loving it. It’s interesting how everybody will find  in what he listens to what he likes and he needs and he’s longing for.

In the first track “golden voice”  it could be Patti Smith singing it, at least the first part. If I would know Patti I’d ask her to tell me fairy tales until I’d fall asleep. I wouldn’t fall asleep. I never fall asleep. It’s a trick I always use when I sleep with somebody, but I am never relaxed. People have told me tales to sleep. Made-up ones, a Persian one once, Grimms’ ones but I’m like kids, as soon as the tale is over I open my eyes wide open and ask “once more?”.

I attach a link because you guys have to listen to this album: https://madkatethetide.bandcamp.com/

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While writing “bodies of flesh, bodies of knowledge” is running and he could be Jeff Buckley playing that arpeggio. It doesn’t have to be anybody, I know, I am sorry, I hate it when people do that with my music, but after all we’re constantly listening to somebody else’s music.

I really liked it all, the electro/rock/new wave/whatever…  it just sounds great. I’m checking out the other albums now. Plus I will need a copy of the poster, Mapplethorpe would love it.

Watch me now!

Saturday morning, I slept long. I had a proper shower, the one during which you can get a hair mask. I haven’t shaved in a week. A few things create little trouble to me. I need a way more free time to accomplish whatever my desires are. I haven’t eaten too much shit, and I haven’t drunk much. I’ve started German classes two weeks ago, it’s not going too bad, I do even dream phrases in german now. The real trouble is that I’m having no free time. I have sheets of notes, I wanna do so many things and it all brings to freedom. Working is necessary to live, but working is to die, then I’m trying to create a way to enjoy working, which implies to change job as well. Rather, to create my own.

I’m a huge Patti Smith fan. This is a manifesto from 1974.

Sixteen and time to pay off
I get this job in a piss factory inspecting pipe
Forty hours, thirty-six dollars a week
But it’s a paycheck, Jack

So hot in here, hot like Sahara
You could faint from the heat
But these bitches are just too lame to understand
Too goddamned grateful to get this job

To know they’re getting screwed up the ass
All these women, they got no teeth or gum or cranium
And the way they suck hot sausage
But me, well, I wasn’t sayin’ too much neither

I was moral school girl, hard-working asshole
I figured I was speedo motorcycle
I had to earn my dough, had to earn my dough

But no, you gotta, you gotta relate, babe
You gotta find the rhythm within
Floor boss slides up to me and he says
“Hey sister, you’re just movin’ too fast
You’re screwin’ up the quota
You’re doin’ your piece work too fast”

“Now you get off your mustang, Sally
You ain’t goin’ nowhere, you ain’t goin’ nowhere”
I layed back, I get my nerve up, I take a swig of Romilar
And walk up to hot shit Dot Hook and I say

“Hey, hey sister, it don’t matter whether I do labor fast or slow
There’s always more labor after
She’s real Catholic, see, she fingers her cross and she says
There is one reason, there is one reason”

“You do it my way or I push your face in
We knee you in the John
If you don’t get off your get off your mustang, Sally
If you don’t shake it up, baby, shake it up, baby”

Twist and shout, oh what I could will a radio here
James Brown singing ‘I Lost Someone’
Or the Jesters and the Paragons and Georgie Woods
The guy with the goods and Guided Missiles

But no, I got nothin’, no diversion, no window
Nothing here but a porthole in the plaster, in the plaster
Where I look down, look at Sweet Theresa’s convent
All those nurses, all those nuns scattin’ ’round
With their bloom hoods like cats in mourning

Oh to me, they, you know
To me they look pretty damn free down there
Down there, not having to press those smooth
Not having to smooth those hands against hot steel

Not having to worry about the in-speed
The dogma of in-speed of labor
Oh then they put damn free down there
The way they smell, the way they smell
And here I gotta be up here smellin’ Dot Hook’s midwife sweat
I would rather smell the way boys smell

Oh, those schoolboys, way their legs flap
Under the desk in the study hall
That odor rising roses and ammonia
And way their dicks droop like lilacs

Or the way they smell that forbidden acrid smell
But no, I gotta, I gotta put clammy lady in my nostril
Her against the wheel, me against the wheel
Oh, the in-speed-o, slow motion inspection is drivin’ me insane

In steel next to Dot Hook, oh, we may look the same
Shoulder to shoulder sweatin’ 110 degrees
But I will never faint, I will never faint
They laugh and they expect me to faint but I will never faint

I refuse to lose, I refuse to fall down
Because you see it’s the monotony that’s got to me
Every afternoon like the last one
Every afternoon like a rerun next to Dot Hook

And yeah, we look the same
Both pumpin’ steel, both sweatin’
But you know she got nothin’ to hide
And I got something to hide here called desire

I got something to hide here called desire
And I will get out of here
You know the fiery potion is just about to come
In my nose is the taste of sugar

And I got nothin’ to hide here, save desire
And I’m gonna go, I’m gonna get out of here
I’m gonna get out of here, I’m gonna get on that train
And I’m gonna go on that train and go to New York City

I’m gonna be somebody
I’m getting, gonna get on that train
Go to New York City

I’m gonna be so big, I’m gonna be a big star and I will never return
Never return, no, never return, to burn at this piss factory
And I will travel light, oh, watch me now

[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y6aUbrZYjYE&w=420&h=315]

Sweat tastes good

It’s a matter of attitude, it’s all how you see things, then they become something specific. The weak, WEAK, thing is that everybody wants to be so cool. What’s so fucking amazing about being cool and unique? We’re so many, who gives a shit. We all are, we all are not. Last night there was this asshole, I’ve met him through some dark music-oriented event or something, I said hello and asked what he was actually doing in life, not that I cared that much. He said he was playing music, djing, about once or twice a year. You boy wanna make it sound like YOU’RE SO COOL YOU ONLY PLAY ONCE A YEAR. I’m not sure you really do that in life, boy. I asked what music, he said “a bit of everything”, I said that didn’t mean much, but then again, I didn’t really care. Then there’s the spanish girl. God it took me ten attempts to understand the work “e r o t i c”. Did I find erotic men dancing in underwear? Then the topic became “flaccid penises”. There’s nothing really wrong with that, but I guess usually is considered not so “manly”, and everybody wanna be a perfect show-off, which means if you’ve to be naked, you’ve to be “well structured”, which is very boring indeed. Then I met this australian guy who had a custom design shop where he basically sold t-shirts. I don’t usually care about how people live, but I asked if it went well, yes “incredibly well”. He was very glad to have left Kreuzberg. He now lives in Wedding and we started talking about a place I love with all my heart there, “Tango Loft”. I worked there for a short time and I’m so glad I’ve met such beautiful people. If you wanna have a taste of beauty, among lilium and candles, go there.

I guess I’ve to spray some antispetic on my nipples. They are insensitive. This means I’ve to keep an eye on them if you pull them or something, you may even rip them off, without me noticing. Licking them is only for your own pleasure, and I always feel a bit strange. The best result you can get is infecting them. Anyway I do keep them clean, so it’s fine, if I wouldn’t do it everyday I’d have a little tit right now. Moreover your boyfriend or lover or whatever is getting back and I have no contract with any of you, but I perceive he is not enjoying the view.

I had a really long talk with this norwegian guy. He’s actually supported from his country to create art, which is mostly painting. He takes pictures of very spontaneous moments (you wake up in the morning or something) and then he paints them, making all of that a bit less “natural”. The grandma was sicilian and she was called Teresa. I had to tell him I had watched a documentary about Maria Theresia, lovely Holy Empress, fighting Friedrich II. In such circumstances, like 9am with a guy in underwear, I may even discuss which is the best way to cook pumpkin. I’m a MASTER in good-talk-in-the-wrong-moment. While fucking I may even ask you why you divorced. Not saying I haven’t done it yet.

At the end of it all, it was a really boring night. It started with a guy asking me if I had drugs and it ended up with the same guy at the Garderobe asking me if I had had fun. The most funny thing was to see these people dressing in the courtyard, all going back to “ordinary life”. In fact I don’t understand why people need cages and labels to feel free.