Tuesday, December 15, 2009

last blog for 2009 .

I'd like to sincerely thank all of you who've followed this blog over the year, and of course years previous, and I hope you all join me for the next installment - which will be kept as one unit for a number of years as opposed to this and last years annual blog. La Deccenie Brut is the title of the new blog, and I'll use that virtual space to natter on about nuttin much from 2010 to 2019, so long as blogspot and the internet are still going, so long as I'm here to write i suppose.

This mission of mine is a kind of alchemy. My music is refined gradually. Releases and actions are measured and represent the latest stage of refinement. There is no arrival; only movement and further refinement to come. The Crude meme started rough-as-guts, obscure, immature, silly - like a schoolboys science project. And it still is really.

Placing myself into the culture has been complicated. There are many layers to it - we have the local culture, Dunedin, with 4 or 5 venue/culture mafias or door-keepers one simply must play ball with. I won't name them here. Small city/large town socio-cultural politics is as fascinating as it is stifling. The golden rule - this town is far too small to actively burn bridges within the creative sector because one day you just might run into and even have to work with whoever you burned again and again and again in the future. You will also limit possibilities for others - artists who just want to get on with people and their projects. All in all bridge burning is a selfish and unwise act. I learnt that lesson years ago. Sort of.
On a slightly larger scale is the national culture - and the same rule applies here because New Zealand is very small. Although you can disassociate yourself from other groups a lil' bit. You define your realm firstly with the genre of music you perform and secondly by way of your politics(and even if you believe yourself to be apolitical - news flash - there are skilled observers out there who'll ascertain your 'leanings' even by the vway you wear your hair). The gatekeepers in NZ are manifold - those who rise up through the ranks are often blessed with the gift of the gab, have plenty of cash reserves, can network up a storm, have friends in leadership positions both corporate and governmental, exude mana (or know someone who exudes it), and whos music is commercial, rootsy, work-affirming, healthy, and humble. My position within New Zealands culture is seemingly microscopic - but it's cultish. NZ's music 'scene' utilizies Crude as a sort of last resort, a filler story, a novelty act or a curio. But 'at the end of the day' Crude is always there. Like oxygen. Permanence and timelessness are my aims. A refusal to go away and die. Transmuting ones everlasting soul into data to be stored, backed up, and filed away for ever. Crude is a southern entity within the national schema, its southern roots stretching deeper and deeper into the soil with each year, the south as base of operations - as home, as nest. Of course, we all know New Zealand music is Auckland-o-centric, and so alot of my work is neglected, because i rarely appear there in the flesh. Luckily those into the type of music i record are usually very progressive and reasonable people. But I can't wholly escape the odd barnyard jape and redneck reference. You just can't. Invercargill is Invercargill. And it will be forever.
The final placement for the project is the international realm. This is acheived in the main using the internet, usually by joining borderless world-wide interest groups and actively participating in them. I feel that the net has spawned a truly international electronic music movement. We congregate under the webs umbrella and inspire and inform each others works. It is a perpetual conversation. It is disembodied, mobile, anarchic, self-organizing and very powerful. One can record, remix and deliver a track to someone in Malaysia and get it back in a new form quicker than it takes to walk to the dairy and back. A guy in Siberia will know more about your latest release than the guy in the next room in the house. You can send a track instantly to 100 different people in practically every corner of the globe quicker than it takes you to hand a cassette to the guy down the hall. Of course, this is OLD NEWS, we all know this...but come on, its still pretty amazing! The ramifications must frustrate local media cliques no end - especially those who crave control of it.

So anyway, thanks again for spending a little time looking at things from my perspective. I really. truly. appreciate your support. You are supporting me by reading me. And if you're compelled to purchase a cd, why! that's all the better. But i'll be happy even if you go stream a crude track.
Yessir, its a struggle. Mein Kamph. I struggle on. On and on against a world I didn't design. Sport reigns supreme here, its mega-church is being built down ravey road as I write. Sport. Rugby. A sport to find the team who can safely collect the food package or the kill back across opposing tribal terrain and to the village. Or safely bringing a message home perhaps. Now we just click a mouse.
Apparently, my right-leaning relatives bellow - there's piles of money out there. Millions of dollars all up for grabs. Anyone can crawl up from the bottom and become a zillionaire! So why do i feel like theres this huge corporate vacuum cleaner in the sky - like an evil silent alien drone, sucking,skimming and feltching out every last cent out of every last human to fatten the already grotesquely over-loaded pockets of a few sociopathic, narcissistic, control-addicted and sadistic men? (oh sorry - thats right. It's us 'welfare criminals' that are the cause of the crisis)

Monday, December 7, 2009

Sunday, December 6, 2009

next thing


from jan 1 2010 the ongoing cruddy saga blog switches to the following url:
http://crude2010-2019.blogspot.com/


Saturday, December 5, 2009

statement

.....Dunedin warmth, Dunedin Hands. Oh the passionate realm of music and art, it attracts them all, the control freaks, the mommys boys, the daddys girls, the special kids, the damaged, the abused, the destroyed, the weak, the troubled, the cursed, the rich, the poor, the sick, the god-fearing, the god hating, the open, the closed, the ambitious, the driven, the insane, the mysogynists, the homeless, the home-schooled, the priveledged, the defiled, the down-trodden, the brilliant, the deviant, the defiant, the maladjusted, the introverted, the extroverted, the forlorn, the quietist, the political, the apolitical. There seems to be different approaches to performance and performance situations - some are there to assert their domain and claim the next decade as theirs, some treat the structural aspects of a multi-act performance as a forum for that insidious kiwi pathology - passsive-agressive behaviour. Last night there was a perfomance at None Basement, or 'Fight club' as I now call it. Having played the venue under its various guises off and on since 1997 it is a place of solace and sentiment for me, somewhere to 'be myself', to 'let down my guard' , a place with a strong anarcho-liberal philosophy to it - a place of un-restricted creativity, and mutual support and encouragement. Last nights show was an eclectic amalgam of musical schools - a jazz/folk/psych act, an anarchic dada outfit, some noise rock, a laptopper, some electro, and myself, attemting a sort of 'live beats' thing with a laptop and the sterling gentlement i've been freestyling with over the last few months . Long before the show was to begin I tried to ascertain what the line up would be, when i should play and for how long etc. As is normal with many gigs of an anarchistic nature a kind of 'it'll sort itself out' attitude is assumed, one attempts to spontaneously assess when it is appropriate to perform, one assumes there isnt a hierarchy to the lineup, its an egalitarian event, fuelled by the music itself, the audiences response, the flow of the piss, the blood on the floor. Trying my utmost to be all things to all people as usual, (I tend to be what you think i am)I cranked up my set as the jazz outfit were seemingly winding down. There were two 'zones', on each side of the basement, creating a kind of genre specific schism, perhaps reducing the severity of the interjection. But no. The two zones were as one stage. Would I get up on stage with a group when they hadnt finished? No. But this was...something altogether different. A real headfuck. Cutting my sound ejaculation (self coaxed of course) I was informed, in the form of the lead vocalists beautiful voice, that they were to play 'one more', a song of about 20 minutes. They finished eventually, their fans yelling encore, my supporters giving me the nod. Before i was to play two members of the jazz outfit confronted me, looking inconceivably put out and angry, like i had just ruined their careers. Deeming the gravity of what i had done by misjudging my liberties was not as heavy as the vibe exuding from these gentlemen I dismissed them, rather abruptly, putting on an air of haughty arrogant self assurance not normally my style (how dare I! I should have cowered and blithered in apology). Picking up a phone call and walking away must've added to the general wankerish feel - I must have looked like a real cunt trying to defend myself. The two guys spent my set seething - their hatred for me festered. Rallying their troops they heckled and defamed my name on a chalk board, this matt middleton guy - what an ego he has! He thinks he is the hot shit! He thinks he is great! He like listens to his own music! That is self congratulatory! How dare he! And so i finished up the set - which went well, and after packing my equipment the angry gentlemen, their honour in tatters after my insidious comments and the sound rape i let loose as they played, it had broken their concentration, I had defiled the purity of their set, I had usurped their one and only shot at fame it seemed. I was then informed that the gentleman would very much 'like to punch me in the face'. My short stature must've really been empowering for them at this point. The standover continued, the taller (hes tall as!) stood over me, like Thurston Moore wearing Burroughs style spectacles, his face buckled and spattering out psychotic old-jazz-soldier rules and taboos and tapus and biblical threats. I then tried a formal apology - apologizing firstly for making a sound when they were playing, and then for my dismissive arrogant display previous to my performance. The response was 'I don't want to hear you say sorry'. So then question I had to ask myself was what did he want? Did he want me to get on my knees and pleasure his member? Was I in for a masonic hazing? (well YES it turns out - even their songstress got one in). Did he want me to pay him off?? At this point my integrity as a human came into sharp contrast in my mind. Was I to be walked over, was I to roll over like a dog when kicked, leaving a pleasing ruddy glow on their cheeks, or would I do something a little more ..acute to highlight the unreasonable nature of their fury. Oh yes there had been breakdowns in communication right from the get-go. Did I have a plan to make an enemy that night? No. Was I told for how long and when I should exactly play? Not really. Did I think a couple of blasts of noise from me would cause such a crushing blow to these guys egos resulting in their need for my head on a plate? No. Maybe no-one really wanted me to play that particular gig in the first place - and in typical passive fashion no-one said 'i don't want crude to play'---like hey I would have gladly not played - of course no-one told me.
I walk back, assume this pseudo martial arts stance and suggest that they 'beat me up'..
(a fight ensued, one of those squirming, wriggling, locked-down scrums, some hair pulling, clothes tearing and biting (on my part) and a few punches.)


Oh music music music - the JOY of it all. Lots of desperately poor people (like m )running round with not enough food in their bellies and too much booze in their blood.

To conclude, I love the people at None. They have been some of the most consistent and encouraging people i have known - reasonable people - non-judgemental, highly creative and progressive, real people. I don't have a beef with None. I try my best to be reasonable with my music and performances. If I have built a reputation over the years as being a 'wanker' or that 'i think i'm better than you', thats a real shame. Lots of young people come down to Dunedin and have their mind made up about who and what I am. Have i become this sort of dinosaur that must be put out of its misery to let the young blood through? Am I a thorn in your side?
At the end of the day we wake up and its all turned to memory, another heated exchange in the fight club, just another outburst by that matt middleton cunt, and we get on with our lives. But this incident was particularly depressing, its the sort of soul-destroying thing that puts you off ever bothering with it again, and it makes you wonder if all the twenty-something musicians or artists of today share this bizarre, sinister,dry ambitious streak and a corresponding sense of immediate entitlement to absolute respect.






Friday, December 4, 2009

'Oral Histories'

Every now and then I'll (I mean ...Crude ) receive(s) a little attention from the world of music journalism and cultural heritage archivists. An interview here and there can really bolster morale - its a validation - it's evidence that what one does is not only out there (in new zealand in the main)(inside hard drives), it is deemed good enough to be acquired and archived and written about. People have penned articles - like Jonathon Bywater and his Listener article, Shayne Carter covered Crude in Real Groove and portrayed me as a very underground kiwi artist perhaps overlooked and under-appreciated, and the Hocken Library and the National Library have over the years acquired many Crude titles, some of them incredibly rare cassette editions that i don't even own any more. All the old lathe 7"s are down at the Hocken, as well as the first ever Crude cassette 'The World is so you Have Something to stand on'. Last month I was fortunate enough to be interviewed for an 'Oral History' project - whereby my life story as an artist, or whatever, was discussed, in my interviewers words it was a project that hoped to paint a picture of the artist as a human being. Whether I acheived that aim I'm not sure yet! I want to thank those who nominated me for this esteemed project - even if I only had the oppurtunity thanks to the veritable kaumatua of the lo-fi scene, Alastair Galbraith , turned the job down. I can think of se veral other senior figures who may have been more deserving of a place in this - people like Peter Gutteridge, George Henderson (you would need a huge amount of hard disk space for his story im sure) or , I dunnow - Celia Mancini maybe?? But yeah. I hope the transcript, which gets stored away up in Wellington, is eludcidating and assists with that future thesis on CRUDE. Yeah, maybe. Might just disappear.

Thursday, November 26, 2009

changes into 2010

Under a insidious barrage of 'cunts' and 'dicks' and 'faggots' I bring you this - the crude decade - the journal of living. The life lived. Naked without an mp3 player on foot in this pokey little town, i think back to the armoured days of Winter '09 where i'd wrap up in a disgusting out-of-style suede jacket and plug my ears up with positive affirmations and hexes and creeping synth figures. So as to block out the george straza dialogos. The righteous egalitarian hoards brandishing secateurs spattered with poppy-pulp.

Anyway my family, you who live and let live - next year the blog adress adjusts again.
Here's the LINK:
http://crude2010-2019.blogspot.com/

news - release party for the Annual Crude DVD is DECEMBER 18 at CHICKS HOTEL in Port Chalmers. The Aesthetics also perform, and alos special guest Nick Knox.

Also, december 5th Crude performs at NONE BASEMENT with the torturers et al.

Saturday, November 14, 2009

to the DoD FBI NSA CIA GSCB

Hi there, I hear you're scanning blogs lately. Hi . My names Matt Middleton, I'm a nobody from a tiny lil' town called Dunedin in that lil' blip of a country called New Zealand, just south of Australia. Hope you enjoy scanning my blogs, and everyone elses! I hope you enjoy the anecdotes and, ok, I must admit, some of my ranting is a little wayward, a little deluded. I hope you extract something out of these blogs, you can test the political mood here, our planning, what we're talking about, our habits, how we respond to legislation and major world events, where the anti-establishment voices are hiding out etc. I have nothing to hide, and will keep voicing my opinion. We all know we have the camera wedged up our assholes, thats old news. Even here, in rural NZ. I know you can tell if i have dandruff from a satellite, I know you can read this, my bank details, my personal records, my medical history, where i conduct my eftpos transactions, what im buying, eating, shitting out. I hope this HELPS. I may indeed be a REAL THREAT to your nation. I could hold the key. I could be the link. Who knows with whom i conduct business. Well, yeah, you do. I buy coca-cola from the dairy. Down the road.

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

grandmother - new track

CRUDE - GRANDMOTHER
november 4 2009


Waiting in the wings

Your daily performance is about to begin
Tighten your grip
Around the charm
Your grandmother left for you
Will it bring fortune
or will it be madness
will it burn your bridges forever Amen

The track ‘Grandmother’ by Matt Middleton aka Crude is representative of one facet of his various new aesthetic approaches to music. Nowadays Crude is often recording music that is acoustic in nature, recording production becoming less and less important - the aesthetic value residing within the atmosphere generated and the lyric content. Middleton is playing piano and bass recorder here, treating each instrument with effects near the end of the piece. Over this year Crude has recorded many electro-acoustic works playing with woodwinds and voice. oh i love writing in the 3rd person. me. him. it.

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

how great thou art

Every so often a blog about music seems a little fanciful and a blog regarding the true horror of life a necessity. Some days require it. To witness and hear and digest what one does about the machinations of the world, we write to formulate our idea.

The great northern hemisphere. Here i sit in this little remote spot, truly removed from the big grown-up behemoth that is the great northern hemisphere. The seething, churning, bubbling broth that is the northern hemisphere. Sophisticated and majestic and lined with deep veins of blue. Its industry - many and varied. Here is one of them: the traffic of women and children from east to west. To satiate the needs of the great western men. A thriving multi-billion dollar a year industry. A constant demand, a constant supply. A flourishing organisation to administrate it. Its success as an enterprise lubricated by thousands of corrupt politicians, police, lawyers, judges, customs officials, military, real-estate owners, media, doctors, shipping companies, logisiticians,city councils, bankers and accountants. All complicit and on the take. Legalization of the industries connected to mafias is in no-ones interest. Not the state, not the law, not the corporates, certainly not the mafias. On and on and on the juggernaut rolls. And it grows and grows and grows. Age old cultures of misogyny and misanthropy fuel to this fire. Oh the great entrepreneurial spirit! The wonders of late modern capitalism, true freedom! Capitalism - the only truly moral system! The great
oppurtunities afforded you by this system! "Come with me to London Anya, you'll earn more in one week than your mother does in a year. A better future awaits you!". There's money to be made! There's gold in them there hills. The market will sort it out. Let the market decide. Of course, it is not only black markets and organised crime whose works are nefarious - hundreds of legitimate enterprises foster pain and death and they have their hands in all the right pockets. The world is a vile and gnarley network of sick, corrupt operations. And no 'benevolent' enterprise is left untarnished for all interlocks. The picture is painted: It will not and can not be stopped - for it is a machine - a self replicating and self administrating machine. This is what I learn. And they wonder why I prefer a life of subjectivity and repose and isoloation and intoxication. Oh yes - we are the lazy ones, the foolish ones. We who do our best to step outside of this sick world, look in, and, using our various mediums, display what we see back to the world - allbeit in opaque and cryptic forms.

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

'Beta Test' music film


a simple video concept set to a crude track from 1997, the classic 'beta test', which was featured on the dirtlove/artless intent cassette 'Informtik 105' (now available as a cdr) and also transcribed to acetate 12" in the form of the 1998 stabbies and the rocket title 'beta test'....

Friday, October 16, 2009

Cold Black Waves

























http://www.archive.org/details/Crude-ColdBlackWaves


From the up coming data dvd 'archive 2009' (gosh - imaginative title) this hour long, well, 55 minute piece is an experiment in slowing sound down as much as possible. The piece revolves around a short sample of human exclamations and ecstatic utterances. As is typical with 'Dark Ambient' music, reverb is liberally applied to the affected area. There is a persistent high-pitched tinitus-type-tone that weaves throughout the piece, which may annoy some sonophiles. Think of it as, um, errr, the tv in the backround. Cold Black Waves shares similarities with the piece 'Jupiter', on the classic 'UHF-F9' cdr/cassette. Best listened to at night with the moon in crescent form with a full view of the stars, near a body of water after several glasses of expensive red wine and a handfull of psilocybin containing mushrooms. No - best listened to after just killing a hangover headache with 6 panadol, on looking out the window and witnessing an overcast grey day in an industrial area, and deciding not to leave the house for a week. Whatever. enjoy . or not. byeee for now!

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

this strange gulf

This strange gulf i'm feeling - its like a strange anger - a grey murky miserable hatred. How much prime information can one take - that premium internet culled and life conjoured data that screams at you how utterly screwed we truly truly are. How bent and sick this system really is. And all the private interests - how they keep death and pain in perpetuality to keep their shit-eating lifestyles alive and kicking. How they flaunt their sick accumulations of wealth, skimming off more, skimming off more and more and more. Each new method of money-rape a vile and nefarious victory for them. Wealth concentrating tighter and tighter and tighter and in fewer and fewer hands and they keep flaunting it and flaunting it and maintaining their global hold on the masses - using media. Using deep psychology. Using our own fears against us. Taboos. Freud. Public Relations. Fear of shit. Edward Bernays. Carefully formulated regimes, oh you can buy think-tanks, you can buy science, you can buy your very own governments. Fuck it. The misery and skull-fucking day in day out work eat shit die bills bills bills. feed those reptiles. keep feeding those fucking reptiles.

Sunday, October 4, 2009

peasant armies/informationisation

The computers' on the fritz, booting up then switching off then rebooting. A real bitch. And it makes me realize how important these machines are to the Crude mission.
Essential equipment. Crude is basically a digital enterprise now. Conceived, constructed, distributed and broadcast digitally. But that dosent take away from the fact that its a nice sunny day here in Dunedin. Buddies as software. And why not. Facilitate away i say. The new Aesthetics line-up perform for the first time this friday at none gallery. As well as Ducktails from the US of A, the forgotten guests (leyton rotor + & katrina thompson) , and Allllex Mac.\

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Saturday, September 12, 2009

Thursday, September 10, 2009

an obsession

Daoism, that archaic and arcane world. No, wait. It lives and breathes and has a future that is more vital than any other religion or philosophy on Terra. But no, that implies competition, so i desist. It was not until I had left the nuclear anglo-saxon buffer-zone that is living with ones parents in invercargill new zealand that I first encountered this strange philosophy. A young twenty something, vital, damaged-goods, looking back I was living the classic 'bohemian' life (as much as possible in 1990s dunedin - perhaps watered down, perhaps quaint and colloquial) - creativity and chaos at the expense of everything else (but did i care? i think not). Magic was in the air the day i rooted myself to the chair in that cute lil' cafe, a quaint bookshelf beckoning to me , a little slip of a book(let) gathered up into my tender 22 year old hands, what is this? The tao te ching? Dc Lau? I jumped straight to the text , ommiting Lau's intro; it was the famous 1st verse. And it was so simple, so utterly simple - it spoke straight to my silly little heart. The first verse was a challenge of sorts - a sort of baracade, a disclaimer. Thats it - its a disclaimer - the tao cannot be told, but if i must tell it, i will go on. i had discovered a take on the world unlike any other that day. it would take months for me to find my own copy. Years would pass before i even took to reading it in full. And the years passed and i read it in full and the years passed and my taste, my ravenous interest for the Dao, especially in its surface, its philosophic manifestation, grew. Daoism, and its namesake, the dao, has been a vital companion and an obsession of mine ever since that day. But why? Because it speaks truer to me than any other creed. It seems to point so clearly to the truth of existence, of human existence, of nature, of time and space, and oh! the beauty of quietism - the wisdom of it - the going along with it, riding with the truth, the murky essence behind all. The folly of needless ambition, of greed, of excess - temperance is of course a feature hinduism,buddhism, islam and christianity. Unlike abrahamic religions however, daoism has no central authority, no anthropomorphic deity. It is simple and earthly. Its is an utter going-with and letting-go, of letting be, and doing this nimbly, expertly, in tai chi i have found a practice that expounds many key daoist concepts - in a way that reveals itself deeper and deeper the longer i do it. Often i wonder why ancient china fascinates me so. I tend to see China more as a Mother of civilization than africa. China seems to be the seat of human refinement and knowledge. So simple, so real, so economic. How it steeps itself now in advanced capitalism seems a little sad, as was mentioned in AS Kline 'like water or clouds' - China will find itself increasingly at odds with its heritage the further it embraces its fierce brand of state capitalism. But yeah, I now quietly study this stuff like a real little nerd down at otagos central library. And i love it. All of it. Otagos' taoism section is probably the best in New Zealand and its a real treasure.

Monday, September 7, 2009

4 cruddy vids

Having just discovered the amateurish delights of Windows Movie Maker i thought i'd mess about with some cruddy stills i had lying around on the old crude hd and ad muzak to them. The ideas are there, theres even a terribly cheesy montage of images smacking of the political in ' new zealand', it's just , well, you can tell i've just started out with this..this..format. Oh well, its something to do isn't it.





Tuesday, September 1, 2009

that

Artless Intent news - a new PLATTER is out:

BARNES QABALISTIC ORCHESTRA

'FRIENDSHIP, FEAR, FORCE & FANTASY'


a concept album, raw electro-acoustic music - guitars/effects/coins/drums/other ephemeral instruments. By Dunedin's Dene Barnes. More info on this release soon/ email me for info/pricing

them

They, the external - that, them: the other. The right would like to believe themselves independent of and not generated by the biosphere and that their wealth and station in life is purely their own doing. The fibres that keep their clothes together, the foods and chemicals they ingest, the electricity they wield, the tools they use, the water they drink, the plumbing they soil, the refridgeration they keep foods fresh with, the entertainments they devour, their mobility and logisitics, their comforts and luxuries, indeed all the commodities they consume, services they use and assets they 'own' - "thats none of your business mate". Has one ever really sat down and thought about how utterly interdependent and universally reliant we are on the labour, support and services provided by other people? The vital life-nurturing elements produced by animals, plants and the rounds of birth and decay? How utterly reliant we are on the other, that very other we tend to dismiss as so much useless shit? My mind boggles when i stop to think - everything i see around me and use has been created or provided by other people or other living things. Nothing is the exception.

Monday, August 24, 2009

on invercargill.

The predominant genetic trait within my family on my mothers' side is shortness. You can spot us in the street, a raft of pixie-like southern folk, on the surface down-to-earth, deep down - eccentric, alcoholic, and esoteric. Smallness, in the face, eyes and nose, in the legs and arms - indeed, littleness is our trademark. Southland is the home province of Crude, a small and very conservative area in the southernmost parts of the South Island. Southland is a dairy and sheep farming province - steeped in old money. Theres an aluminium smelter too. In comparison to other provinces in NZ, Southland is fairly wealthy. Its largest city and its capital, Invercargill, is basically a farming town of just over 50,000 people. Its a small town. It cops alot of flack, and is the butt of many jokes New Zealand wide. If you are from there, live up north and tell people about it, you either have to be staunchly proud of it or squirm and apologize. It has its wealthy, and its very poor - its north/south dividing line a classic socio-economic partition. If you don't want to conform - socially or culturally - Invercargill does not provide you with many options - paradoxically freaks are sometimes nurtured and admired as 'characters' - thats if and only if they stay there for life and are outwardly patriotic. It has it's gangs - the most powerful a very ruthless white supremacist biker gang, its rivals are ethnic street gangs and the Mongrel Mob. It has a strange mafia-esque organisation that monopolizes the liscencing of the towns taverns - the Invercargill Liscencing Trust.
Many musical freaks have emerged from the town, most famously Chris Knox. George Henderson of the Puddle lived there. And of course punk and oi had its day in the form of Moral Fibre - their drummer Keiran Monaghan moving to Wellington and branching away from the Oi into free-improv, world music and dada realms. Invercargill's port Bluff has or at least had an extremely tight and passionate metal scene, with religious importance placed on American thrash band Slayer. Invercargills young bands tend to embrace metal, espeically Pantera-esque/Slayer-esque power rifferama. It has a reclusive and very underground bohemian scene. And a smattering of punk-a-billy tottoo culture. It also has its garage punk freaks. The work of Mike Patton is held in very high regard amongst many musicians in Invercargill.
I am from Invercargill. Invercargill taught me self-reliance, how to make my own fun, the need for ambition, that there's nothing wrong with eccentricity so long as its real and from the heart. My roots were Metal. I listen to metal everyday again.
I am listening to Slayer. My best friend in the world lived there (for a while) .
Living in Invercargill taught me about true friendship and how to reject the norms. If i wasnt brought up there, i would not have had any drive to musically reach for the beyond.


Sunday, August 16, 2009

recording progress


...and.....repeat. Locked in in this ever repeating prison of times and dates. Whenever it is or was, it was either on a monday or a tuesday or a wednesday or a thursday or a friday or a saturday or a sunday. Surely a kind of mass hypnosis is acheived with all this repetition, a type of jaded familiarity and regularity, a kind of sub-surface malaise and death. 'What a pretty day to die' - ne'er a truer word were spoke , by french new waver Marie Moor .
And it 1.30 on our miserable monday now, the grey sky is still grey.

Whats news? It's just amazing whats' news-worthy these days...as for Crude news... a little bit of the cruddy opus has made it up onto Itunes, and thats the motley collection of un-kempt and hirsute 'electronic(a) (now that the future is here it almost seems silly to be futuristic - maybe the time for techno is over) tracks that go by the name of 'DOPAMINE 20'. So, go to Itunes, and search and look for it. I cant find it. So you find it. Or buy it off me.
The 'Archive 2009' dvd is coming along nicely, a few track titles thus far:
001. crude - 'um-bobo' bit-beat voudoun slap/tickle
002. crude - 'the call' thoughts of 40 year old man in shit smeared room with beheaded doll, bucket and wearing nappies
003. crude - 'cc cc' usb/lan, high-rad levels & crackle tackle
004. crude - 'diving lights' plop collage
005. crude - 'cold black waves' 50 minutes non-romp - synth goop
006. crude - 'the rain' squirt festival
007. crude - 'orthodoxicon' - naughty out-takes from russian choirs, heavy reverb
008. crude - 'scarface(crude mix)' - naughty remix of haunting moroder synth sequence
009. crude - 'thebaine pt 1/pt2' - more vocal snores/loops/drawls/gurgling
010. crude - 'blog' - made famous at chicks recently - song motivating people to blog and/or snog
011. crude - 'bulb' - uncoordinated bum-beat for squares
012. crude - 'pant' - slimy tremolo melt
013. crude - 'puck' - trickey lite-patter pitter
014. crude - 'ritual' - sexualized hell soundscape
015. crude - 'somnolence' - word play/easy lay

....
there's more where that came from, the old 'faux' tracks'll be tacked onto the dvd, and whatever else i conjour up over the next few months.

Friday, August 7, 2009

fantasy / fact

As in Guido. Tanning galleries. Factory farms. As in nuptials. Vortex. And pissant. Because we emptied those pockets back in 1989. The not-now. Not-now time, that big thick-skinned black-hearted other. Buddhism recommends not clinging.
Ways and means. "Money is not an issue". Sorry, but no, money is always the issue. Like the kind of people who can "spare no expense". Oh the power of it. Oh the absolute power of money. It can render grown men to snivvling toddlers who'll agree to the most horrid degradations. It can bring whole ecomomies to their knees. At Rockerfellers whim. The whim of the mutli-billionaire is like an earthquake - the psychology of those with that amount of money is a morbid fascination of mine. The ultra-rich. I'm not talking about the multi-millionaire down the road. I'm talking ultra-rich. The kind of people who can uplift who they wish, who can destroy who they wish. Imagine growing up in one of these families. Surely a kind of megalomaniacal psychosis would ensue. Surely. Madness. The power available to you - surely the novelty wears off. It must get boring, surely you'd end up joining a torture ring or the like to get your kicks. I can only imagine the sadistic games these people could potentially play. They could hire their own armies. Whole mafias. They could infiltrate pharmaceuticals, governments, criminal syndicates, the entertainment industry. Space and defense. Scientific research. Media. The courts. Real estate. Construction. Education. Oh the corruption. Of course, true power is nature herself and fraudulent power like that of money, a human invention, has no true sustainability. But until then - oh the things you could do. And they do.
Say you had a band. Or an act. You could literally buy your way to fame. I would buy a megalithic advertising campaign and pay off the entire infrastructure to favour us. Or maybe that wouldnt even be necessary. You could pay off, lobby, invest and influence the record companies, radio, television, venues, airlines, hotel chains, catering firms, clubs, private bouncers, stadiums, logisticians, local gangs, retail chains like the rock shop, i'd buy huge warehouses, trucks/vans/tractors with Crude insignia, i'd hire only the best graphic design firms - id place ads in prime time, i'd have lawyers, accountants, PR people all at my service..

How very sad. It's probably a good thing that I don't have this 'power'. I think i'll just keep on keeping on with this nanomarketing campaign.

Thursday, August 6, 2009

Wu :last fm


Hiya. Well, Wu now have a modicum of a online presence, in the form of a fledgling lastfm page. So, go check it out, there's 3 tracks from recent live shows/sessions in it. Will also have a Wu page comnig off the crude site very soon. Thanks for your time.

WU'S LAST FM PAGE

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

recent happenings/review/introducing WU/futures

A lil' review of the Aesthetics/Bastardwisher/Stevie McCabe gig is nestled over at the Axemen blog/archive HERE. A couple of mini-vids tacked on too! The youtube stage clips cleverly disguise the soul-destroying, almost surreal psycho-drama(s) that unfolded behind the camera that night but hey....the show went on didn't it. I had all the energy of a slightly melted piece of plastic when i crawled on stage but the show did go on. And, well, its all gone.
Under the bridge. Where i drew some blood.
Did the whole 'concept' thing the other night at the Chicks bar to a fairly spartan but quality audience..thanks to everyone who came out, hope y'all derived some form of pleasure from it all, this was an experiment in the use of the WORD as a musical/percussive physical sound item. Many simple repeated slogans and sections of dialogue.. Think it went down well. I think. Stuff's been fairly strained lately but spring is on its way here in new zealand and with it that lovely revitalizing ambience y' get. Oh yes, lovely. Like a good long psychoanalysisis sesh on a good long leather couch with a goatee'd dude in the finest Irish tweed. Like a thousand invites to a million facebook events you didn't know about but do now and will never forget about again. Spring with updates. And I'd like to take this oppurtunity to (re)introduce WU, which you've probably already heard of but anyway this is an improv trio: Lee Noyes on drums, Alex MacKinnon on guitar/pedal array and Middleton on sax/clarinet/shawm. Very propulsive and exploratory stuff i suppose you could say - I bleat on , pull the mouthpiece out and whistle etc, some screaming, some warbling, slow vibrato, trills, overblown arcs, scratches, octave hopping, key popping, staccatto sections, processional shawm lines for the exotic effect, clarinet for its richer timbre and creepier resonances. Alex scratches out some searing gat with that hyper-kinetic energy that's his trademark, and Lee, man...in all my years i've never had the pleasure of jamming with a more intricate and adventurous cans man. Intra-band flattery. Healthy? Maybe, maybe not. So now i just shut up. I'll construct a myspace page for the band etc, the project will be equally aligned with any online forums or activities that Lee and Alex administrate - Wu is an egalitarian triad as much his as his as mine. You dig??
Wu: L:mackinnon. R:me with something in my mouth again.

Wu: l.mackinnon c.noyes. r.middleton


















So, anyways, the future. Aesthetics have had a shake up and will appear in a new form next time. All is platonic and benevolent. Shit happens. Crude will continue on as it always has, it'll never end , not until the last copy of a copy of a copy of a crude cd is vapourized.
Not until every crude mp3 is torn organ-like from the architecture of the internet, which is impossible coz i can't remember all my passwords... And what a couple of months! Its been the year of the narcissist. Famous people dying, people killing people, facebook encroaching further and further into real-life. Theres just too much going on, yet not enough. Too many events, too many updates to maintain. Too many posters. Too many brands of energy drink. Too much scatalogical data all the time. Thee eternally updating world. A thousand events. Strangers strung together at events, all the while overlooked by this huge and ugly utility/presence, like a jealous god, a mile long ufo hovering in stasis, our motives all facebook fodder. A when you get together it's like your just a version of your facebook page, when its supposed to be the other way round...and STILL i update it...then again, it IS a nice way of keeping in touch.

Sunday, August 2, 2009

BLOG. BLOG. BLOG. BLOG. BLOG. BLOG.
And life moveth ever forward
. And we reap what we sow. And we bleat and we blow. In the sleet unt the snow.

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

ENDGAME - THE FIVE ACTS, JULY 31, Chicks

Statement of Resignation. From madness to Quietism.
From slime to Civilization.
From oedipal jealousy to non-duality
from passion to serenity.
Signing off.

ACT ONE : WORD
ACT TWO: SOUND
ACT THREE : MOVEMENT
ACT FOUR : WORD AND sound
ACT FIVE : CONCLUSION

A full transcription of the speeches and choreography will be posted to this blog soon after.



Tuesday, July 14, 2009

july 15

I have this image, not unlike the body farms portrayed in The Matrix, each of us wired up and drained in this relentless and incrementally intensifying fashion by a sinister behemoth, this nameless, disembodied vampire - it creates money from nothing, and skims money from every head..every foetus another latent resource..as natural resources dry up new abstract resources become commodities...referencing Enron's desperate profit creation tactique just on the cusp of their mighty fall....and with each fiscal year the beast grows greedier and more virulent, it has been self-sustaining and self-replicating for decades now, a super-malignant tumour...and it proclaimeth 'who is like unto me?'..Profit at all costs..Those varied companies and utilities and govt deparments and slum-lords we pay, don't be fooled - for consolidation and mega mergers abound and the money they exhume from us just trickles right up to the elite. I have this image of a huge ufoid vacuum cleaner floating overhead, sinister and looming like Israeli helicopters, coins, lint and bank-notes helpless against the suction...the surreal looting spree indomitable and un-fettered by time and space..day after day after day forever amen..my bank account, merely a way-station for funds before they are ingested, at the speed of light, into skull-shaped coffers and vaults arcane.

july 14

Tinkle courier, tangle, tinkle asian asian restauraunt. Au. Au. Begorrah. slack. Pink. Lack. Hull. Lackey. Braggard. Pill. Lipid. Protein Creme.
easy wafers, in my Pottle o' foetid. words upon words upon turds.
In an anal hedge-fund. In ano, lodge of anal pride .
Tinkle courier, pottles of bridgette.
Care, care, cremation fo care.
Cremate thy care, expunge, and ejaculate.
Put fizz in his britches, buzz over his frig.
Millet in his trenches, jelly o'er his gig.
Rank, rind, holocaust.
Caustic chancre, syphilis is sip.
Sip lilly hick noumenon.
Liminal flip.
Cass, cass,
foid foid trick.
Put her in the bin
filiments of play
filiments of play.
hip.
hop.
Holiday.


Sunday, July 12, 2009

july 13 pt 2

the ministry of social development. The ministry of social development. The ministry of social development. creative new zealand. work and income new zealand. the ministry of social development. work and income new zealand. creative new zealand. private/public. private/public. patronage. private funding. public funding. tax payers. gangs. the proceeds of crime. only way. private/public. work and income new zealand. housing new zealand. incest. gangs. the ministry of social development. john campbell. the ministry of social development. the ministry of social development. The ministry of social development. The ministry of social development. creative new zealand. work and income new zealand. the ministry of social development. work and income new zealand. creative new zealand. private/public. private/public. patronage. private funding. public funding. tax payers. gangs. the proceeds of crime. only way. private/public. work and income new zealand. housing new zealand. incest. gangs. the ministry of social development. john campbell. the ministry of social development.the ministry of social development. The ministry of social development. The ministry of social development. creative new zealand. work and income new zealand. the ministry of social development. work and income new zealand. creative new zealand. private/public. private/public. patronage. private funding. public funding. tax payers. gangs. the proceeds of crime. only way. private/public. work and income new zealand. housing new zealand. incest. gangs. the ministry of social development. john campbell. the ministry of social development.the ministry of social development. The ministry of social development. The ministry of social development. creative new zealand. work and income new zealand. the ministry of social development. work and income new zealand. creative new zealand. private/public. private/public. patronage. private funding. public funding. tax payers. gangs. the proceeds of crime. only way. private/public. work and income new zealand. housing new zealand. incest. gangs. the ministry of social development. john campbell. the ministry of social development.the ministry of social development. The ministry of social development. The ministry of social development. creative new zealand. work and income new zealand. the ministry of social development. work and income new zealand. creative new zealand. private/public. private/public. patronage. private funding. public funding. tax payers. gangs. the proceeds of crime. only way. private/public. work and income new zealand. housing new zealand. incest. gangs. the ministry of social development. john campbell. the ministry of social development.the ministry of social development. The ministry of social development. The ministry of social development. creative new zealand. work and income new zealand. the ministry of social development. work and income new zealand. creative new zealand. private/public. private/public. patronage. private funding. public funding. tax payers. gangs. the proceeds of crime. only way. private/public. work and income new zealand. housing new zealand. incest. gangs. the mthe ministry of social development. The ministry of social development. The ministry of social development. creative new zealand. work and income new zealand. the ministry of social development. work and income new zealand. creative new zealand. private/public. private/public. patronage. private funding. public funding. tax payers. gangs. the proceeds of crime. only way. private/public. work and income new zealand. housing new zealand. incest. gangs. the ministry of social development. john campbell. the ministry of social development.inistry of social development. john campbell. the ministry of social development.

monday july 13

Sharp cold blue steel type day here in Dunedin. The conditions that freeze y' down to silicate crystal. And Weatherston still pleads not guilty. It all happened just up the road from me. I remember having one of my voodoo themed dreams that night, someone was buried alive..the industry keeps chugging along..patter..patter, NZ music, all co-centric circles and black hoodies. And Auckland city. And the visual arts, all triple zeroes and knobs of paint and strange assemblages and odd people. The arts, they attract all the psychos. Narcissists, co-dependents, paranoids, borderliners, obsessive-compulsives, depressives, addicts, mother-fuckers, oedipus, elektra, bed-wetters, rapists, misogynists, mummy's boys, daddy's girls, rich-kids, brats, cum-heads, sex-addicts, boot-lickers, back-sliders, dealers, wheelers, cheerleaders, healers, hair-dressers, leather-facers, paddy-farmers, aeronautical engineers, knob-twiddlers, politicians, pyromaniacs, klepto's, pedo's, emo's, euro's, ho's, bros, real-esate agents, undercovers, bogans, bodgies, boogiemen, road knights, skinheads, nazi skinheads, white power skinheads, hells angels, head-hunters, satans slaves, trey, troy, bruce gates, jism, sputum, pus, bile, curd, whey, toe-jam, sweat, stench, cud, mank, bogeys, smegma, turds, religion, war, leaders, jesus, poos.

Saturday, July 11, 2009

big night in

The Dao de Jing puts it beautifully - ones absence renders one conspicuous.
Well, we hope. Oh my atrophied ego, see how it yearns, see how it deludes itself. I commited a cardinal sin this evening, I ticked the 'attending' box in a facebook event page and didn't even turn up. And in my head I conjure up a vocal collage..'where's matty?'
....echo....echo.....echo...'I thought Matt was coming out......'...'jelquing is illegal in Wyoming...'...
'Farrys fraud! Chin on a String'...'..'Sieg heil!'...

No desires. No motive, no hidden agenda. No Die! Die! Die!.
Just fat accumulating around my middle. And the relentless whirr of my PC's fan. No party at None. No frenzied networking. No pink-cheeked affirmations.
No sharing of a cigarrette with a local named Trevor, warm ethyl-breath exchanges and bristly man-on-man kissy. No shouting and stumbling and the primordial satisfaction of an distended bladder unleashing its alchohol-charged fluid into a graffittied receptacle. The splayed arrangement of purses, jackets, cellphones, wallets, keys, pouches of tobacco, bags of filters, tampons, chewing gum, broken drum sticks, condoms, lipstick, eyeliner, spent syringes, receipts, coins...

Die! Die! Die! are a very professional unit with a sober head for the business side of it all and a keen sense of progression.
There are 2 types of band. One, 'gets somewhere'. The other dosen't get quite as close, but might enjoy a 'cult status'. If you really do want to 'make it', sober up right now. Get sober and get real. Analyse the kiwi acts who make it, compare them to those cult acts out there. The cult acts seem to enjoy a deep respect (or is that sympathy?), they're freak acts, often mentally ill, their guilt complexes making them complete push overs ('yeah, hey...I'm just happy to get to play...'), it's the phenomenon of unreliability that makes them at once exciting to their fans, a risky liability to the business. Once a reputation has been built, it's virtually impossible to knock it down.
The bands that make it are often if not always powerful networkers, self-esteem un-tainted by abuse, are hard-workers and will always do what they say they're going to do, are unshackled by any drug or alcohol addictions, never come across as desperate in any way and know how to work as part of a team. They will also have a keen instinct for selecting the right people to work with. And once a network is established, it will be nurtured and protected, like a mafia, until such time as the contract is up.
And, they won't never give you something for free.
So, what am I saying here.

Fucking nothing.

Go download my latest ALBUM.

phenomenonenon july 09



Sunday, July 5, 2009

the tees - new approach

I have decided to forgo mail-order for the recent tee shirt microline. As orders may over-ride the actual quantity, rendering the sale into a kind of hit-and-miss auction, i have decided to only sell them at crude/aesthetics gigs, in a 'what-you-see-is-what-you-get' fashion. whats there is whats available, whats sizes are there will be what sizes are available. This oughta be a more efficient method. Then one can inspect your product then and there. For out of towners, tees will be avail when we tour, or , when a sizeable line is manufactured, mail order will be made available again.

Friday, June 26, 2009

More Listening - Crude - Winds of Wood and Winter..


Crude - Venti Di Legno e Dell'inverno (Winds of Wood and Winter)


Woodwind works by Matthew Middleton. Featuring recordings using Bass Recorder, home-made Shawm, Clarinet, Tenor Saxophone, and effects. Recorded 2008 in Dunedin New Zealand. These tracks feature on the 2008 data dvd release " L'archivio dei lavori ultimati da Matt Middleton per l'ANNUNCIO 2008 di anno"
These recordings are at a lower bit-rate than the actual release, for info on purchasing the above mentioned dvd, go to this page:
http://crude.co.nz/recent%20releases.htm

LISTEN HERE!

Saturday, June 20, 2009

Murderbike, Not Even Owls, Volt, Radio Cegeste, Wu and DJ Voodoodroid...None 20 june '09

Kitchens of Distinction - Kill thy Father - Butchered at Birth - Wax'n'Tax - Not quite - As if - Parallelogram - Tighten thy Noose - Tend thy Garden - Volt: Pete.G/Justin.T/Richard S - Sound Organism - Digi-Bodies - Pure Sound - Home-Made and Wired up by Correspondence - Thee Mighty FUSTIGATOR - Fizzle, Quack & Catflap - Catatonia - Annus Mirabilis - Anicularum lucubrationes - Aegri somnia - Audio, video, disco - Report - Report - Report - He Thinks He's - Opinions: like assholes - Everyone Has One but Some People Have To Wear a Colostomy bag - a Buddhist Sin - Fustigation across the Nation - Not Even Owls: Toki/Eddie - Sludges and Judges - Beta Beats - Toki on th' Sauce - Eddie on Not Enuf Owl - True Dat - Insert opinion - Was/Is - The The - Tank'd-Girl - Millipede - Sanctimony - An Haitian Disc Jockey - DJ Voodoodroid - Castin' out that Hex - I gots the Evil Eye outside WINZ - Boogie Down - Bugalu - Tokyo R'n'R Street Dance - Breakdancers - Rockers - Trojans - Hillbilly,Hellbelly - Bellyfull o' Mater's Ruin - 7 Year Bitch - Spintronics - Litl Paisley represent - Wu - Blue - Spew - New - Who - Mackinnon/Middleton/Noyes - Collaboratron - In Homage to thee Big-German wit' the Beard - In Homage to thee Big African-American with the Mo' - Bing! Bang! Swerve, Swoop, Loop, Feed - Noyes: Shaman-of-thee-Skins - MacKinnon: Conjourer of the Waves - Middleton: no comment - Audiatur et altera pars! - Confess! - Confess! - Confess!! - Murderbike - It ain't a Trike - Its the MURDERBIKE - Beat'n'Synth Greul'n'Biscuit - Meat'n'Potatoes - But Transcendental Potatoes - Lines of Fright - Synth Bombs - Beats'n'Bongs - Fluorescent Yellow & Flourescent Blue - Triangles - Vector Graphics - Dirty Keys - Murky Pads - No uplifiting Choral Chorus here - Just lo-down Primtive Synth Gurgle/Gravel - and Iso/Rachels' Finespun-Homespun Sing-Song - Mono-Harmonic & Clandestine - Radio Cegeste - Stairwell install - Ghost channels - Bogan Ghosts scream for Stairway to Heaven - Fine-tune my Runes - Droppers und Spoons - Motoko/Vapour/Viol - Ether transmit - Aurorae, Weather, Morse - European Venous Forum - Estonian Volleyball Foundation - Quantum Rind - Kitchens of Distinction - Probiscus O'er Tanin Tainted Sugar Lump - Grace Jones - Quick and Easy Loans - Cash next Pay - Warm Leather - Von Robinson Industrial Design - Street - Eat - Beat - Los Alamos Fuel Model - LaFleur Petroleum Services ||||||




...upcoming shite















July 28 - WUNDERBAR CHCH
July 31 - CHICKS DUNEDIN
August 29 - DUX DE LUX - CHCH

Friday, June 19, 2009

live track..





setting up a sorta live online archive at last.fm, first piece is my 7.47 set at chicks the other week----
GET IT HERE

Monday, June 15, 2009

bastardwisher presents...chicks 12.6.09

This is the blog the upset everyone, so iv'e deleted it.
If, however, you would LIKE to read it, email crude696@yahoo.co.nz and i'll send it to you.

..rasberry reich/dual roles








phenomenonenon

a gig review for last weeks bastardwisher presents thingee'l be up soon, meantime here's sum photos by the quietly brilliant markus gradwhol ....unfortunatley no bastardwisher pics but...a lensman can only stay out on the town so long..

Friday, June 5, 2009

lines of flight photos - a tenuous link


theres an awesome collection of photos from lines of flight (there's me at the bar) on facebook right now. Dunnow how hard it is to get through to 'em, like, i imagine u need to be friends with the photo-putter-upperer ? but , well, heres the link to the photo album:

http://www.facebook.com/home.php#/album.php?aid=87492&id=617704210&ref=nf


Wednesday, May 27, 2009

FAUX (2009) now on the Internet Archive...



http://www.archive.org/details/Crude-Faux2009

track listing slightly different than thee last.fm version.

live - never perfect, always fun.

I truly now believe, after years of practice, and never quite achieving perfection live, that you are never gonna get a live show without un-predictable fuck-ups, the sound being somehow shitty, something breaking, something being out of tune, madness and tantrums by either one member of the band or all members of the band, or the audience members, someone in the band not being able to hear the other instruments properly, why, all manner of problems. And so I state it for you now - and you are most likely already well aware of this : A LIVE SHOW IS NOT A RECORDING, IT WILL BE MESSY, NO MATTER HOW PRACTICED and MUSICAL PROFICIENT WE (THINK WE) ARE, THERE WILL BE TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES, SOMETIMES IN ABUNDANCE. This is what a live gig should be. It is truly the atmosphere created by the band that denotes a 'live show's' beauty, the energy created, the reference and re-interpretation of those recordings you know and love, the alcoholic gnosis, the social co-factors, the mob-mentality, the party afterwards, the haze, the fog'n'dimness, the yellng into your friends ear, the improvised sections....every band in history has fucked up live. Unless they're corporate robots. So there. Perfection, as inhuman as it is, is something to be worked towards (in vain of course) in the studio. So, bare this in mind when you go see The Aesthetics or Crude next. A live gig is a live gig.

the nth island tour report

HERE

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Crude Auckland live-to-air

THE LIVE TO AIR ON FLEET.FM

---basically a bit of juno 60 spit'n'polish with delay effect, slightly soused sax blather-bake, grindhouse juggernaut synth greul, and blip chaser

THE CRUDE INTERVIEW

---where i say not-very-much in quite a few words.

the full daif kent fleet fm show - lotsa music!

--the golden axe man's '2 dollar show' on fleet.fm is great listening - i espeically like the track '2001 ways to love me' by cortina. Haunting!

Monday, May 18, 2009

tvklvln


Have been in wellington, am in auckand
historically a very rich abundant centre for anger prose/poetry on my part
more news coming soon..........