The Rock Blogger

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RIP.

It’s humbling to think of how a single experiment could completely alter our perception of human consciousness and our experience of the universe. Hofmann’s contribution to the world has changed the shape of chemistry, psychology, art, music and spirituality forever. It’s also sad to think of how many people will never fully appreciate his work.

Godspeed.

Strange tree tower on The Richmond Trail

Trekking into the woods in search of some clarity, some peace of mind.

The air is clean here and the scenes are tranquil.

The streams have frozen over and snow is crashing down from the branches high above.

Long shadows stretch across the forest floor as the sun slowly climbs above the trees.

We close our eyes and let the path guide us through.

image from www.theskyscrapers.org

A shout out to my fellow lycanthropes…
A night of portents and omens, read from karma’s cards…
Anyone see that lunar eclipse last night?

Yesterday was Ontario’s first annual Family Day Holiday, which I assume was introduced to placate those who really wanted Valentine’s Day off. The new statutory holiday was put in place last fall shortly after the Ontario Liberal party swept the provincial election. This is what we did with our day…

While on the ride home from work today, I was drifting off to sleep with the post-rock band Labradford playing on my iPod. It was a strange experience to say to least, having the sunlight splatter shifting colors behind my eyelids while the haunting ambiance set in. While partially asleep, I could still hear the jangling guitar and soothing drones weave in and out, as my body slipped into some subdued state of paralysis. When I got home, I found this strange video and it seemed to capture the mood. This song is from their debut album Prazision.

Now that I’ve finally gotten my bloody LSATs out of the way, I can return to my underground cavern of doom. The gain is up, the guitar is tuned down and the amp is up to 11. It’s time to rock the fuck out.

I’ve been recently experimenting with a slower, drone-doom sound after having listened to multiple Earth and Sunn o))) records for demonic/angelic inspiration. Demonic/angelic? Sounds like a possible song title. Anyways, I tend to loose myself in the heavy distortion, playing out each chord into sonic oblivion. At times, it can be a cathartic, organic and even spiritual experience. Hopefully I can capture some of those feelings on a few upcoming recordings.

In closing, its been a busy few months and its refreshing to go back to into a more creative mode. With some excellent stoner-rock albums under heavy rotation, I hope some of that fuzzed-out sound rubs off on my own guitar playing.

More to come.

Bob Dylan The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan 1963. 5 Stars.

Everything has already been said about this man and his work. Like the greatest music legends of the 20th Century, Bob Dylan is just as much a myth as he is a musician, as the recent film I’m Not There will attest.

But there is no mythologizing about the lasting power of Dylan’s powerful song-writing, which in his more poignant efforts, provide stirring social commentary that has spanned decades and generations, making it depressingly obvious that the more things change, the more they stay the same.

Last year, after being caught off guard by “A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall”, off the album above, I immediately learned the song’s chords and did my best to memorize its labyrinthine lyrics. Every time I sing this song, I have to take a moment on reflect on its form and contemplative energy, trying to get into get into Dylan’s crackling mindset. I always have this image of a whethered and world-weary figure, exhausted by the multitude of horrors surrounding him, trying to inform the world of the immense costs of our collective actions. Over 40 years later, this screed is still echoing from the mountain.

Have a Merry Christmas and best wishes for 2008.

I have recently acquired most of Godflesh’s catalog, having once again been fascinated by industrial metal, and I was amazed by the cover art for one of their more heavier albums.

An image of mourning, this apocalyptic pairing of the grave and industrial waste is a fitting visual description of the current technological and spiritual crisis that lies ahead of us in 2008. This album, created in 1996, seemed to anticipate the bleak forecast for the industrial-capitalist state, which currently is brewing in the dirty and over-consuming city centers of the West. They all risk collapsing into states of takers, and the thought of giving, the message of Christ, becomes overwhelmed by the mechanical roars of greed, profit or addiction.

The modern industrial representation of Christmas has slowly deafened the sentiments of charity. The Salvation Army awaits in our subway stations, because they know how much money we are throwing at each other. They are well aware of how much we consume and how much we waste. They are waiting for the scraps.

This Christmas I will pray for a more charitable spirit to come out of us, rather than being caught in the Christmas Machine that, for the most part, rewards the dominant minority of the top corporate and political class who continue to poison many of the airwaves,waterways and pathways that line our fragile world . I pray that in the new year we can open the dimensions of our thinking and contemplate what our true beleifs are and compare them to our wasteful, hateful and selfish behaviors and recognize that no one is free of sins, be they personal or social.

While their music is incredibly brutal and makes ample of use of thunderous baselines and punishing drum machines, Godflesh’s tone of opposition and lamentation seems to call to an aggrieved and existential mindset. Yet the message isn’t completely despairing, as I see it. Perhaps the imagery of Christ that Godflesh likes to juxtapose with the machinery of the state, or our bleak imperialist world view, is meant as a signal of hope amid a blackening sky of dirt and pollution, of noise and destruction. Perhaps there is still one candle that lights the others. Hope still burns in the ambers.

Peace be with you.