Waterfire & Open Mic

Current mood: caffeinated
Category: caffeinated Life

Last weekend, Tony and I went to an open mic downtown. Hadn't done that in a few years, when my buddy Jonny Pape dragged me to the Zeitgeist. That was when I had recently written 'Your Past'.

Anyway, Tony's a guitar teacher and he was accompanying some students, so we decided to do a few songs on the fly. Very good exercise for me. If you can just walk into any bar and get up on front of strangers and do your thing, you're strong and no one can f*ck with you, IMHO.

We did Heaven (Talking Heads), Model Cafe, and Hallelujah (L.Cohen). It was a tough crowd, but it's so good for honing craft!

I had fun, and a few cocktails, courtesy of Tony. Cosmos.

Then, last night, we went to Waterfire in Providence, RI. I like journeying to this littlest state. I had heard about Waterfire from some Goth friends years ago, jealous they didn't offer to take me. Anyway, we went and now I have a bit more respect for the city. Tastefully done, from the fire to the music. I enjoyed the hushed respect that reigned over the masses.

The awe of fire. Eternal, primal, pagan.

There were 100 fires, I think. Gondolas sleek, black, and sexy like limos. Limos - many of which cruise through Providence like sharks hunting for The Kill.

Ten31, a living statue company, had a few of their folks situated near a monument. Tony and I each went up individually to The Oracle to receive a message. Mine says:
"Know when you are full."

My hair still smells like woodsmoke, and I love it. Reminds me of Texas pinon.

We've been on a Roman kick. Watched the TV series "Rome", then "I, Claudius", and also went there. Pretty cool, I must say. It's fascinating to see Tony getting so into it!

Anyway, I like how in shows about Rome, there are always little pans of fires outside homes - mini-pyres, I suppose. Personal fire.

Predictable I would like such a thing, non? Being such a double Aries and all!

We need some pyrotechnics on stage.

Guess I’m Goth?

Current mood: pleased
Category: Music

http://ink19.com/issues/august2008/musicReviews/musicB/blackFortressOfOpium.html

From Ink 19 online 8.23.08
Black Fortress of Opium
Black Fortress of Opium
By Matthew Moyer

I'm not exactly sure how this album made its way to me; someone must have been reading my diary. And I'm glad they got to the page where I was lamenting that there weren't enough groups mining the stately gothic folk-baroque sound of later period Swans, Mors Syphilitica, Faith and the Muse, and Faith and Disease. So we're agreed that Black Forest Of Opium is a good thing? Fuck yes. No arguments. Named after the English translation of the Turkish town Afyonkarahisar, swear to fucking god, our blackhearted trio shows amazing promise and creative poise for such a new band. The album is a heady brew of melancholia, exotic instrumental flourishes, sinister glances and a sound that is as gothic as it is Appalachian and European. What? Yes.

"Edward Devotion" -- love that title, reminds me of other cool name songs like "Jack Luminous" and "Little Johnny Jewel" -- is a skeletal summoning of the marble tomb sound of the Swan's White Light From the Mouth of Infinity, regal pacing and tense sadness in every note. "Black Rope Burns" comes off like a bleak murder ballad, mandolin and vocalist Ajda's exhortations to "tie knots/ strong knots/ tether his heart to mine." And the music, god! The images and stories they conjure up, long tales of dissolute lovers and centuries' old curses -- for instance, the hypnotic hymn "Ari." My god, it's a song about Nico's son Ari and their diseased relationship! Amazing. The little lyrical details and the eye for scenes in a lost life, it's... it's a conjuring, it's a laying to rest. Better than any biography I've read thus far. Elsewhere, numbers like "Crack + Pool" call to mind Faith and the Muse at their most florid and beautiful, as much as it does the Carter Family and string band numbers, lonely mandolin and vocals set against an uncaring void. There's a reprise of this same song later, in a full-band format, and it couldn't be more different, snake-hipped psychedelia that's all smoky and bad trip scary. "Twelve Gross" is a tensely restrained, paranoid creep through darkened ruins and broken promises, bass and drums threaten to crash forth, but always held back by a lattice of smoldering guitar feedback, until it explodes into a howl and stomp.

Now, notice how the second half of the album gets markedly more experimental, shedding skins and trying on masks as fast as the needle skips from one track to another. "Your Past" feels markedly different from the rest of the record, it's all candy-apple-filled-with razorblades grungy sweetness, taut acoustic guitar giving way to downtuned sludge -- calling to mind the Wipers, Sonic Youth and Calamity Jane all at once. "Model Cafe" then shoots off in another direction, a deliciously melancholy slice of classic country torch along the lines of Patsy Cline live at the Grand Ole Opry, with delicate teardrops of slide guitar, brushed drums winging quietly, and Ajda's lyrics telling a simple and sweet tale of lost love. Wondrous. "From A Woman To A Man" mixes things up a-fucking-gain with a smoldering deathjazzblues shimmy in humid slow motion -- the gospel-meets-haunted house organ (and a searing guitar lead, hey what woah?) will make you fan yourself profusely.

Toying with different genres in the same album can be a very good thing, when it yields results like this. Add the Band, with their voracious appetite for a wide-open world of musical possibilities, and a deep sense of musical tradition, to the list of influences. I'm claiming this group as Gothic right fucking now and saying this is how Gothic should be.
Black Fortress of Opium: www.myspace.com/blackfortressofopium