The Dark Angels are a come and go crew. They create then disappear like street art. Their works exist in fragments, particles that float, dust motes that spin before the wind that blows them to faraway places. They are individuals that work as one. Deep as oceans, as impenetrable as the night. Art urchins and poets, they dissolve before they form. They are the Dark Angels, they are discharge. They are a bloody mouthful.

Thursday, 21 July 2011

The Goat Rancid Fletcher

The Goat Rancid Fletcher by Vomitus Skink

3 comments:

Rick said...

Not my usual thing (over 50, into ABBA and Barry Manilow, ya know), but after a few beers I can kinda dig this. As an existential kinda guy, I'm into all that "randomness of the universe" and whatnot. And I like a good beat (being a drummer and all--strictly ratatat kinda old-school crap ya know).
One time I dropped acid before a gig with a county and western band at some kind of Legion Hall or something. I was about 25 or so. It's a bit blurry, to be honest... But fuck, what a gig! I used to get these country gigs even though I was a pretty dyed-in-the-wool rock pig. There'd be like, these geezers and me. They liked how I'd "heavy up" their sound. Paid about 50-75 bucks a night. Not bad for a country boy from Nova Scotia!
I remember when I was about 18, we used to hang at this geezer's place. His name was Gerry. He was into Sabbath. He was a gluehead. He was a good driver when he was high...
Fuck, how do I pause this fucking thing? I wanna go for a smoke... Hang on... Duhh... it's the "pause" button... I get confused sometimes, you know, being old and all...
BRB!!
Not allowed to smoke in the apartment...
OK, so here we go, back to "The Goat Rancid Fletcher"...
This is a good part!
At that country Legion sorta gig, I remember being freaked out by the shadows on the stage. Yeah...
Oh! And the Sabbath guy--he wasn't at the gig, he was dead long before then. Death by Sabbath or something.
OK! Floydy-sounding synths (pre-Dark Side) with some industrial-sounding stuff.
I'm listening now... (Well, I was listening before too, but I like this part.)
I hate how some people take a look at you and think: this fucker couldn't possibly get where I'm coming from musically.
Wow!! a really loud part.
Anyway, who gives a shit? I get my rocks off jamming to old Stones tunes and shit.
This ain't really my thing, but I can listen to it and I can tell you about it and I can even dig some parts of it.
And it reminds me of the times, so long ago, when I used to get so utterly fucking fried that I saw the universe itself.
Airplanes...
Voice guns...
8 minutes to go...
I'd like to tell a good drug story, but I live in Japan... :-(
What ever happened to drugs, anyway?
Kinda (early) Floydy again...
Let no man say that I did not listen to this piece. I did. Every minute.
How many of you kids did? Huh?
There's only a couple of minutes left. You know, playing in a band is a great way to get laid, right?
What? I can't say that? Fuck...
Life sucks...

Jase said...

Rick, I totally appreciate you listening to the whole thing, and the monologue you provided is outstanding.

I agree with your hatred towards dismissive fuckers, but like you say: life sucks, so i just keep my distance and do my thing.

The more music I make the more real it seems to become. You think that is just confidence growing or something else? Repetition does have a tendency to give the illusion of value.

If i were a musician I would choose to play bluesy/sludge metal, slow Sabbathy riffs and vocal growls... but I can only do the stuff i do, the same with my visual art. I used to want to paint like Francis Bacon, but instead I started making art. That's gotta count for something, right?

that is not a plea of originality, i've been around, i've seen shit, but i am honest with my creative discharge... or at least that's what I think until i find out i was lying all along. But that's self deception, not a contrived reality to cause a desired reaction in others. Or am i thinking of personal growth. Like warts.

I almost wrote that I did have a point to my reply, but that would have been a lie, so i didn't. The glimpse at your history provided with your response has more value to me than anything I expected to receive in exchange from these sounds. Thank you.

As for drugs... I think they went the same way as sex and love. Transmogrified into something you do, rather than something you are. Fuckkit.

Ruela said...

Fuckin crazy! yeah! good shit ;)