friends

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love this video, and the dance. i wanna’ learn to dance like this :))) i just don’t get the black dude on the corner and why he thinks honolulu is in japan? by ars

johnny cash and friends: some strange friends!!!

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justin timberlake? kanye west? johnny cash? they just don’t belong on the same line?

i have to say i had not seen this johnny cash video of the song “gods gonna cut you down” also known as “run on” if you happen to be a moby fan… amazing song, interesting video… it is a cool homage to johnny and nice to see all these current losers tryin to connect themselves to the man. a bunch of em made some sense like iggy pop, kris kristofferson, denis hopper, woody harrelson, mick jones, even bono maybe, keith richards, johnny depp, q-tip, patti smith, and ok fine even jay z. but what the hell are these other guys doin in there? lame-o’s like kanye west, justin timberlake, chris martin, adam levine (maroon 5), amy lee of evanescence, emily robison, sharon stone, and brian wilson? …that said we can always forgive those using kate moss for decoration. by dd

fugazi that trump

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i’m no patient boy…. without endorsing either hillary clinton or bernie sanders, the legendary post-hardcore band fugazi have announced they are taking a stand against the “utter horror show” of the republican primaries in the wake of donald trump’s success, revealing that they have recorded a politically charged five-track EP called 5 songs, due out on dischord later this month. by ars

coventry cool girl: delia derbyshire grand-daughter of electronic music

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musician and composer of early electronic music delia derbyshire – dr. who british tv series

Delia Derbyshire in Room 12, along with her full panoply of equipment.

dusseldorf based “pole” the electronic music group, must have been very much influenced by delia derbyshire

coventry cool girl and post feminist delia derbyshire: in 1959, on approaching decca records, delia was told that the company did not employ women in their recording studios, so she went to work for the UN in geneva before returning to london to work for music publishers boosey & hawkes. in 1960 delia joined the BBC as a trainee studio manager. she excelled in this field, but when it became apparent that the fledgling radiophonic workshop was under the same operational umbrella, she asked for an attachment there – an unheard of request, but one which was, nonetheless, granted. delia remained ‘temporarily attached’ for years, regularly deputising for the head, and influencing many of her trainee colleagues and later musicians across the world in the field of electronic music. she is a definitive find for a young chap like me… by dd

David bowie’s dead: and we are left with lady fucking gaga

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an homage to the man who changed the world.

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more David Bowie and 1,000,000 pictures at www.morethings.com/pictures

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if he was strange, that’s because he was… not because his producers dressed him up. he had a voice, it was not beautifully musical, but like nina simone and chet baker before him, it was his own. that’s what made him beautiful. his lyrics were not about paparazzi’s or poker. it was about space and death… o.k. he did a few songs about cats and dogs, but hey, we all make mistakes sometimes. and the dog one wasn’t that bad. well… we will miss our boooy for sure. thank you for great times and most importantly for showing us all how to age and get old gracefully. you can’t dress up in ziggy stardust gear at 55 and jump around like a teenage rockstar like its the old days… you put a suite on and chilled out and took it like a real man. mick jagger could learn a few things there. if i was ever disappointed of bowie, it was after he got his teeth job and pulled a few facial skins, but im sure he had plenty of PR agents to blame for that. will miss you man. left a flower for you in front of your new york apt. and iman darling, may peace be upon you girl, he’s up there somewhere… in the stars now… probably next to monsieur jacques (romain georges) brel singing “my death”:

my death waits like an old roue’ so confident, i’ll go his way
whistle to him and the passing time

my death waits like a bible truth at the funeral of my youth
are we proud for that and the passing time?

my death waits like a witch at night as surely as our love is right
let’s not think about the passing time

but whatever lies behind the door there is nothing much to do
angel or devil, I don’t care for in front of that door there is you

my death waits like a beggar blind who sees the world through an unlit mind
throw him a dime for the passing time

my death waits there between your thighs your cool fingers will close my eyes
let’s think of that and the passing time

my death waits to allow my friends a few good times before it ends
so let’s think of that and the passing time

for whatever lies behind the door there is nothing much to do
angel or devil, i don’t care for in front of that door there is you

my death waits there among the leaves in magician’s mysterious sleeves
rabbits and dogs and the passing time

my death waits there among the flowers where the blackest shadows, blackest shadows cowers
let’s pick lilacs for the passing time

my death waits there in a double bed sails of oblivion and my head
so pull up your sheets against the passing time

but whatever lies behind the door there is nothing much to do
angel or devil, i don’t care for in front of that door there is, thank you… by dd

joseph stalin’s favorite music

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after his wife committed suicide, with a gunshot to her heart, stalin, the great dictator of russia, lived a lonely and isolated life.

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with his wife, nadya

mozarts piano concerto no. 23

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stalin and his beloved daughter svetlana alliluyeva

afraid of his own circle, and them afraid of him. imprisoning and committing to death, many of his very own relatives he became even colder after tanya’s death… he would escape the kremlin to his isolated private country home in the woods, dacha, guarded by 100’s of special forces. inside, no one was allowed, except his illiterate, but loyal governess. he slept in the day time and seldom at night, in various rooms in the house, and always on the couch with his shirt as his pillow. i found it fascinating and very melancholy to learn that in this house, often alone and yet all powerful, stalin (meaning steel/man) isolated from his people, family and the world, would listen repeatedly to his favorite song, mozart’s piano concerto no. 23 in a major, k. 488: II. andante… now that’s one fuckin’ state of mind… by uh