A grrrrail?

If my writing seems to slug across your screen rather than the usual zip-line quick wit Blogalism you're used to, its because I have just now returned from a week long vacation. It involved me sitting in the dark recesses of a beach house, occasionally removing to the beach to darken my snowy complexion beaneath the golden strands descending from Apollo's airy chariot. Alas, my traipsing through these intertubes has left my skin beyond repairidly white and I found myself more often gazing upwards towards Apollo's twin sister, Diana. Her milky white crescent illuminating enough to display my epidermal shortcomings, but not reflecting her brother's rays enough to bronze them. Where shall I begin with the music today... where to begin...

Have I a platter of rad for you today, my friends! Well some may think it crass to call this rad but I think it, my friends, is not crass. For when was the last time you heard four hundred damn guitars playing at once? Never!

It is A Crimson Grail by Rhys Chatham a student of punk rock and a mentor/friend to members of Sonic Youth and Band of Susans. He began his career as a piano tuner for minimalist La Monte Young. and it sounds like this:

If vines growing up thick brick had a sound it would be this. If heat's fish-eye sine waves above a sweltering road could be plucked it would be this. If cumulo-nimbus could be compressed into a jar and slowly let out at the bottom of a swimming pool, retaining their shape, it would be this. If a lover's form could be effectively holstered into a hip flask, a quick, concealed dram beneath mahogany stairs would fill your body with these vibrations. Then there are two more movements, whose dimensions surpass description.

she's a doosie, hope you don't mind 20 minutes.

Rhys Chatham - A Crimson Grail

I've been reading Nabokov, can you tell?

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