Showing posts with label MUSIC. Show all posts
Showing posts with label MUSIC. Show all posts
Friday, 29 November 2013
Thursday, 28 November 2013
The Golden Age
Oh you don't known Woodkid is? Well I'm about to tell you because you should.
Born Yoann Lemoine, Woodkid, is an amzing illustartor and film director. He's directed some badass music videos including Lana Del Rey's Born to Die
And then all of a sudden, Lemoine started making his very own soundtracks.
Case in point: this short film he directed for Lolita Lempicka LeParfum featuring the delectable Elle Fanning.
And now is he is a fucking badass solo artist. ALSO DID I MENTION THAT HE IS FRENCH. RWOAR!
His first hit is Iron, from the EP of the same name. It was famouslly used in the Assassin's Creed video game and the music video features superscmodel Agyness Deyn weilding a bird of prey. Obvs he makes all his own videos.
And then came the second EP. All his music so far has addressed this grand coming of age narrative about a little boy and his videos portray the plot. Can you see my heart crumble?
This year Woodkid released his debut LP, called the Golden Age (melt). I Love You was the first single off the album and one of my favourite tracks.
Oh, and he's touring. He has super theatrical shows with a full orchestra and heaps of audiovisuals and lasers and shit. Oh, and he's still making new music: this is his latest composition.
Oh, and did I forget to mention that Lana Del Rey is his muse?
Here they are singing Video Games together.
Sex.
Born Yoann Lemoine, Woodkid, is an amzing illustartor and film director. He's directed some badass music videos including Lana Del Rey's Born to Die
And then all of a sudden, Lemoine started making his very own soundtracks.
Case in point: this short film he directed for Lolita Lempicka LeParfum featuring the delectable Elle Fanning.
And now is he is a fucking badass solo artist. ALSO DID I MENTION THAT HE IS FRENCH. RWOAR!
His first hit is Iron, from the EP of the same name. It was famouslly used in the Assassin's Creed video game and the music video features superscmodel Agyness Deyn weilding a bird of prey. Obvs he makes all his own videos.
And then came the second EP. All his music so far has addressed this grand coming of age narrative about a little boy and his videos portray the plot. Can you see my heart crumble?
This year Woodkid released his debut LP, called the Golden Age (melt). I Love You was the first single off the album and one of my favourite tracks.
Oh, and he's touring. He has super theatrical shows with a full orchestra and heaps of audiovisuals and lasers and shit. Oh, and he's still making new music: this is his latest composition.
Oh, and did I forget to mention that Lana Del Rey is his muse?
Here they are singing Video Games together.
Sex.
Casual Adele cover. No biggie.
And now this is coming.
And now this is coming.
I cannot bloody wait.
Saturday, 27 April 2013
Sunday, 21 April 2013
Tuesday, 9 April 2013
Now this is what I call a press release
SOME FEELING IN THE BELLIES OF THE TANKERS WHO PASS US MAKING SAD MANIC BONGS LIKE DRUMS
Still at twilight something blurs over your shoulder.
Which is it?
It’s prickly.
We have made some decisions.
We want to fail more, act without authority.
Plus there’s something phlegmatic about the world state don’t you think?
There’s a blood system promoting biology as destiny.
A series of patriarchies that’s a problem to the Nth degree.
What about hyper-capitalism, this homicidal class system, the school system that’s kaput?
Then there are castles everywhere—look at them fake tanning and signing autographs!
At least there’s one thing we stand behind.
There’s still an ecosystem right? And here’s this sound system.
We dusted it off. Electronic is just one place in the body. We went temporarily acoustic.
We made our own instruments. We took an old bedspring, a microphone and:
“Stay out here…”
Now we’re bending our voices to sound like Emily R., who recorded the track on her cellphone speaker.
10 more! We say to him. Get shaking!
Our walk gets longer. It’s a walk in the panpipes of the body. We come to the edge. So much water. The ocean is twice its original size. We take a bunch of surveys.They know everything about us. We don’t buy what they say. We take a heap of estrogen. All around us things are howling and then we stand on the pier end. The light is pink and green and pink and green. It reminds us of home—like we imagine it could be. But when the color pancakes out over the horizon, we don’t know what we’re looking at. That’s ok. This time it’s structural.
No habits!
Everybody is always desiring already imagined things.
When we travel between thresholds, people say: “you’re hiding.”
Not everything can be so easily explained.
When we travel between thresholds, people say: “you’re hiding.”
Not everything can be so easily explained.
We have a bellyache, a big stink, a major grouse or two with manufactured knowledge.
But how do you build an album about not knowing?
Now your voice is in my throat, floating there…
Often people take pills for these things.
To us the body is no longer psychological.
It’s certainly not a container, we don’t believe in metaphors.
Like dog/wolf—there aren’t many anymore.
But how do you build an album about not knowing?
Now your voice is in my throat, floating there…
Often people take pills for these things.
To us the body is no longer psychological.
It’s certainly not a container, we don’t believe in metaphors.
Like dog/wolf—there aren’t many anymore.
Still at twilight something blurs over your shoulder.
Which is it?
It’s prickly.
Our hair is out.
We have made some decisions.
We want to fail more, act without authority.
Plus there’s something phlegmatic about the world state don’t you think?
There’s a blood system promoting biology as destiny.
A series of patriarchies that’s a problem to the Nth degree.
What about hyper-capitalism, this homicidal class system, the school system that’s kaput?
Then there are castles everywhere—look at them fake tanning and signing autographs!
At least there’s one thing we stand behind.
There’s still an ecosystem right? And here’s this sound system.
We dusted it off. Electronic is just one place in the body. We went temporarily acoustic.
We made our own instruments. We took an old bedspring, a microphone and:
“Stay out here…”
Now we’re bending our voices to sound like Emily R., who recorded the track on her cellphone speaker.
No habits!
There are other ways to do things.
There are other ways to do things.
Still sometimes it all seems so bad.
Don’t worry we won’t commit Harakiri, stomach cutting or anything like it.
The honor system is corrupt, just another privilege.
Like how it’s a privilege to make an album, to move freely.
Don’t worry we won’t commit Harakiri, stomach cutting or anything like it.
The honor system is corrupt, just another privilege.
Like how it’s a privilege to make an album, to move freely.
We just have to go faster we mean breakneck we mean “like crazy.”
How at 5am that warehouse beat is coming up like sour steam.
All over the dance floor we’re asking: can this DNA turn into something else?
It’s not metaphorical. It’s explicit.
There are surgeries and fantasies and holes sweating through the wall.
It’s a question about feelings. It’s a question about who gets to risk.
All over the dance floor we’re asking: can this DNA turn into something else?
It’s not metaphorical. It’s explicit.
There are surgeries and fantasies and holes sweating through the wall.
It’s a question about feelings. It’s a question about who gets to risk.
But things don’t change so easily.
There’s still Monsanto, fracking and “terminator seeds.”
Every morning we wake up wondering: who’s kicking who on the street corner?
There’s still Monsanto, fracking and “terminator seeds.”
Every morning we wake up wondering: who’s kicking who on the street corner?
Now we have to start. We choose process over everything else.
Letting go of outcomes is another privilege.
Keep it lateral.
We ask our friends to help.
Letting go of outcomes is another privilege.
Keep it lateral.
We ask our friends to help.
Together we leave the village and walk down the road. The light starts exercising itself. The old sun is out in his winter jumpsuit doing sit-ups and squat thrusts between the nettles and moldy brush.
10 more! We say to him. Get shaking!
Our walk gets longer. It’s a walk in the panpipes of the body. We come to the edge. So much water. The ocean is twice its original size. We take a bunch of surveys.They know everything about us. We don’t buy what they say. We take a heap of estrogen. All around us things are howling and then we stand on the pier end. The light is pink and green and pink and green. It reminds us of home—like we imagine it could be. But when the color pancakes out over the horizon, we don’t know what we’re looking at. That’s ok. This time it’s structural.
No habits!
Of course we’re growing restless.
Thursday, 31 January 2013
Sunday, 20 January 2013
Sunday, 28 October 2012
Tuesday, 2 October 2012
Wednesday, 26 September 2012
Friday, 21 September 2012
Tuesday, 18 September 2012
Thursday, 2 August 2012
Monday, 23 July 2012
Tuesday, 17 July 2012
Monday, 18 June 2012
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