Whole Lotta Red One Shot To The Head

November 3, 2022 0 Comments

Whole Lotta Red One Shot To The Head – Tone Glow 047: December Albums Our writers list more than a dozen songs released in December 2020.

With the week we’ve had, I think everyone could use some time to relax and get away from the hustle and bustle. As I prepare to escape for the weekend, I look forward to one of the things that I believe can provide reliable comfort: listening to music. Below, find a few December albums we wanted to list, ending with Playboi Carti’s three albums.

Whole Lotta Red One Shot To The Head

Whole Lotta Red One Shot To The Head

I am always fascinated by the first days of the new year, when the world feels like it is renewing itself: the sunlight takes on a different light, a new coat of shellac, and the air bursts with the promise of new possibilities. It reminds me of the time between waking up and opening your eyes, when you wonder, if briefly, how the world you’re about to return to would change. It is a strange quality that I believe that the last work of Hanno Leichtman,

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, they draw beautifully. In eighteen short words, Leichtman keeps the mind vibrating through simple arrangements of musical samples that stop, then return to themselves like Möbius strips. The breath of a female voice and the restless sounds of organ and piano slowly emerge from the dark lines. Which I think works well

And his power to go forward; we wander restlessly through the images of these words, not allowed to dwell on them for more than a few minutes. Every short word only shows the greatness of his presence, constantly spreading in both directions. You can compare the results of the album and go through the art galleries and add details to each painting you see from a quick, effortless way. All of this adds up to a fun, scary and unique experience. “Little Maxie.”

Three weeks ago, when winter began in their homes in Japan and Germany, Hideki Umezawa and Andrew Peckler released a split album with bright, warm spaces inspired by the life and work of Japanese artist Ison Tanaka. In 1958, Tanaka moved to Amami Ōshima, a small island where many tourists fly to Okinawa’s most famous island. Similar to Morocco and northern Mexico, Amami is hot and green with palm forests and mangroves that remain largely untouched due to its small population and the protection of the park. This evergreen would serve as Tanaka’s home and artwork for the rest of his life.

, offers the same, each singer creating their own scene on the beautiful island. Amami Tanaka’s paintings are flat, sharp and bright, sometimes resembling brightly colored construction paper. Umezawa, on the other hand, mixes field recordings collected from Amami’s birds and insects with glass-enhanced glass and other electronic devices. The result is sunny and plastic, reminiscent of the island environment and the stylized, vivid imagery of Tanaka’s later works.

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At first glance, Peckler’s light-hearted music seems to be a perfect match for Tanaka’s art, and the artist succeeds with beautiful, melodic songs that build and fade like a hurricane. Peckler never visited Amami and used Umezawa’s writings as a starting point for his “concept” of Tanaka Island. That probably explains one flaw in Peckler’s episode: the animal noise sections and turntables that feel more like a “dreamscape,” as the liner notes say, than a whole bunch of samples playing at once. Although clearly an Umezawa piece, the sound here sounds too artificial, distracting from some of the sophisticated synth work that would have stood perfectly on its own. – Mark Cutler

Five nights ago I had a strange dream that started with trashing my childhood home and ended with Eiko Ishibashi and Jim O’Rourke at a yard sale. The details of the dream are vague, but so what

I remember when I saw Eiko and Jim, I hugged them and it made me happy (I really miss hugs from my friends). After we got along well, both of them ran away for unknown reasons and I was asked to do the job. I was a kind, kind person like I used to be, but when I was looking through the sales list, I saw that Jim was selling the things I sent him. Not good, I thought before waking up and remembering that I had never sent him anything and I had no reason to be upset about this. Also, I didn’t bring my dumplings for Eiko and Jim to eat; I was bad the whole time.

Whole Lotta Red One Shot To The Head

It works like a diary sometimes, you don’t know) and maybe because listening to Ishibashi brings to mind the connection of dream stories.

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, one of the artist’s most impressive records of 2020. For 37 minutes it floats effortlessly, occasionally accompanied by the soft beat of a needle. It begins with piano music drifting aimlessly, imbued with more mystery than Harold Budd. As the song progresses, the piano moves to a lower register to descend, and the ringing of distorted bells and whistles reveals it in a transparent fog. Suddenly it goes into a passage with a well-arranged piano, and then one backed by a soft screech.

The most interesting passage is when Ishibashi chooses powerful, stuttering synths to introduce the sound of cars. Hearing a familiar foreign voice immediately snapped me out of my thoughts

He introduced me. This time, everything was welcome, as if Ishbashi had carefully preserved the passion and love of this dream song. But the last third

There is a lot of energy. There’s a piano piece that moves loudly – slow, steady, chromatic, and every note is painful. It feels like waking up from a dream and struggling to re-enter, knowing full well that you will never be in this world again. In a smart move, the piece ends with the sound of traffic, then the sound of a stop:

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Arthur Russell’s life after death is one of the rare treasures of the 21st century. Often said to be very difficult, Mr. Russell went through the millennial conditions of America. Born in Iowa, the heart, if not the actual place, moved, going west for the summer of love and then east to free New York in a strange way. Along the way, he visited: Frisco’s 1960s cult Buddhist commune and poet Allen Ginsberg’s early 1970s East Village home, where he lived almost until his death in 1992; The new music of SoHo comes from the Kitchen, quirky loft and paradise garage fantasies, 80s art incubators Roulette and Experimental Intermedia Foundation … creating records that were bridges, or maybe megamixes, between the white man of Ginsberg and the unstable genre. doubts about Bowie and Prince; The minimalism of La Monte Young and the maximalism of Larry Levan and the discovery of Joe Meek and Lee “Scratch” Perry and Alvin Lussier and the clarity of Nick Drake or Shirley Collins. In a sense, he was too much for his country and seemed to leave very little behind.

And yet more of it is coming out. At this time, you can say that Russell created something of a holy trinity with Patrick Cowley and Julia Eastman – and lit the candles that Eastman received in the open press of his friends who saw a holy vision, which appeared on vinyl and . Bandcamp. like a face on the savanna. For Russell, the two shows that took place at the end of 2020, with original songs and memories from his upcoming 1986 masterpiece, are a challenge that can break the brain and the heart.

It’s raw and raw, just him and his booming cello making sounds like pencils that are later illuminated by the album’s watercolors,

Whole Lotta Red One Shot To The Head

Named after a song he didn’t play that night and full of songs that mention or remake or remake other songs,

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Features Russell’s vocals and cello on keyboards and trumpets thanks to longtime collaborators Elodie Lauten and Peter Zummo. It begins with streaks of gold moving like sunlight through the room: “Sudden cold has shattered the dreams you’ve left behind,” Russell sings, his mouth close to the microphone in a heartfelt lament. The taste of his bow on the strings, scratching and caressing, has an evocative beauty, but it soon leads to the laugh-out-loud “Hide Your Gift From You.” It waxes and wanes when “This Is How We Walk to the Moon” arrives, freeing itself from the vertigo that graces the later recorded version.