rfurtkamp: Recent Episodes
rfurtkamp
A bad person with bad guitars playing really outside weird twenty years gone. Are we not men, or free jazz, or weird noise, or just clueless? Your call.
Recorded improv-style, pseudo-live (no edits to tracks, either it's good or the whole session is pitched), one pass at a time with old, forgotten gear.
Synths courtesy mistracked guitars via 90s Boss snyth bass units (ME-6B etc), stacked glitchy fuzz pedals, and pitch-shifted harmonizing delay. Newer synthy stuff courtesy Roland GR-55 and all the old toys, plus various Roland keys and a Behringer DeepMind 12.
$29 LFO-enabled rack delays and ART gear from 1991, I love you.
And yes, I spend a lot of time with the red light on.
Note on available material and web links:
This is my current sketchpad for music as I release it. I've gotten lazy and generally only post stuff here these days.
Back catalog can be found at the links below. There are 25+ full length albums, live sets, etc. for free available. Additional songs available the Google music link (free) or Bandcamp link (also free, put zero in the price unless you're insane).
Beyond the surface, it ever dwells.Beneath the waves, there is everything and nothing.And all.
Things that should be that are not.If you understood, you'd never dig up Joan Crawford from her grave.
In the distance, it can be felt but not known.Such is the righteous riot of the mating of the stars.
Two of the same exact model guitar and their brother walk into a bar.Amplitude modulation crushing delay sweeps in and demands a dance.Such is the way of the fading cosmos.
A return of the 'record in a day' birthday EP/album that I haven't done in a couple years. Marred by near catastrophe as the forward strap screw on the main guitar decided to remove itself from the guitar mid-take - I kept the song anyway.
A return of the 'record in a day' birthday EP/album that I haven't done in a couple years. Marred by near catastrophe as the forward strap screw on the main guitar decided to remove itself from the guitar mid-take - I kept the song anyway.
A return of the 'record in a day' birthday EP/album that I haven't done in a couple years. Marred by near catastrophe as the forward strap screw on the main guitar decided to remove itself from the guitar mid-take - I kept the song anyway.
A return of the 'record in a day' birthday EP/album that I haven't done in a couple years. Marred by near catastrophe as the forward strap screw on the main guitar decided to remove itself from the guitar mid-take - I kept the song anyway.
When the lacquer's dried and the buffing begins sometime after the last watt dies in the last transmitter at the end of days, I will not be sorry.Did what had to be done.
Nothing kills the echo of echoes, and they're always in the wire.Hail the doers and the ones who passed first.
Sometimes the wickedness only appears when the walls shake and the earth herself screams.
No matter what one tries, it always comes back to the indisputable laws of nature Herself.
At the heart of the maelstrom of the well of the worlds, there could have bene no other way.
The cracking of the wires does not lie.
Thus ends the tyranny of the telegraph, and thus began the hegemony of radio.
[Upon receipt of the finished product, neither of us could remember who did what exactly, but ...it was about perfect.]
I have danced in the ecstasy and bliss of creation's fire, and brought back the sounds thereof.
Enter the passion and the wickedness, stage left.
(Austin Osman Spare, "The Last Bones")
There are so many layers and they're all fallen apart.
Such is the unravelling of the Well of Worlds.
(Psyche, Arno Breker)
New year, new track.
It takes two to tango, and two to ascend to the heights of godhead.
Sometimes one gets a wild hair after almost thirty years, and goes to town.
There is ever a method to the silence in the madness.
In memory of a dear departing friend from the market, on the discontinuing of the venerable Boss RE-20 Space Echo, which has for a decade now served to lessen the wear and tear on my actual vintage unit substantially.
There are no words.
There can never be in such moments.
Recorded live in three passes - there are no synths, post-production wizardry other than stereo panning (and that minimal!) involved.
Meine böser schwarzen Spiegel, komm!
The silence recedes, and the broadcast recommenced.
Deep are the roots, extending past the Well, to the realms beyond and the paths they walk without worry.
Some things cannot be said except whispered into the ear of a partner and over-ridden by the song of ecstasy.
Les Paul once looked for the "new sound."
That dog, like the rest, is dead.
Long live the Queen.
(Hendrick Goltzius, "Hermes presenting Pandora to King Epimetheus", 1611)
Some things that have no words have sounds, and the cry of that rapture is an agony of ecstasy.
From the 2nd Aethyr of Liber 418, 1909.
But if She will, oh, the things that shall never be said.
"Despair! Despair! For thou mayest perceive the Virgin, & thou mayest control the Mother; but what wilt thou say unto the ancient Whore that is throned in Eternity? For if she will not, there is neither force nor cunning, nor any wit that may prevail upon her. Thou canst not woo her with love, for she is love. And she hath all, & hath no need of thee. And thou canst not woo her with gold, for all the Kings & captains of the earth, & all the gods of heaven, have showered their gold upon her. Thus hath she all, & hath no need of thee. & thou canst not woo her with knowledge, for knowledge is the thing that she hath spurned. She hath it all, & hath no need of thee. & thou canst not woo her with wit, for her Lord is Wit. sShe hath it all, & hath no need of thee.
Despair! Despair!
Nor canst thou cling to her knees & ask for pity, for she nor canst thou cling to her heart & ask for love; nor canst thou put thine arms about her neck, & ask for understanding, for thou hast had all these, & they avail thee not.
Despair! Despair! ... Nor canst thou win her with the sword, for her eyes are fixed upon the eyes of him in whose hand is the hilt of the sword.
Despair! Despair!
Nor canst thou win her by the Serpent, for it was the Serpent that seduced her first.
Despair! Despair!
I am Leviathan, the great lost Serpent of the Sea. I writhe eternally in torment, & I lash the ocean with my tail into a whirlpool of foam that is venomous and bitter, & I have no purpose. I go nowhither. I can neither live nor die. I can but rave & rave in my death-agony. I am the Crocodile that eateth up the children of men. & through the malice of BABALON I hunger, hunger, hunger."
Tell the moon She's all I have.
From the forthcoming album, "Meine Schöne Mörderin", out soon.
Live October 9, 2020.
Of all the inconceivable things that have become conceived and born, this be the record of the most.
A microtime beyond microtime, before all such things had meaning but simply were and ever are.
The earth ever knows its touch, and its Maker.
There are things beyond things, that come from before things were contemplated, and will remain when the all returns to the source.
Liber XXIV Odal vel Agricola
- The Babe that becomes the Master is ever attracted to its Mother.
- For he suckles at Her breasts with reckless abandon.
- The time of the feeding, the time of the kneading and the rising, so long practiced, all Knowledge, all Conversation, led him unto Her arms.
- There is no other, there canst be no other, even as She bids him to sample the bounty of Her earth.
- Oh, how he SHALL sample that bounty.
- And none compare to the succor of his Mother, the ripeness of Her loins.
- For to that end is Her garden prepared.
- To that end shall he raise himself therein, knowing each valley, caressing each field.
- For he may not have concern over the crop, but yea, ye Master of Hosts, how he loveth the plowing thereof.
- And in the stillness therein, the fields rejoiceth in his touch, yea, rejoiceth in his touch.
- For in that rise, in that scourging, in that passion, there shall be peace.
- Within Her ever-fertile thighs shall the Babe become a Man, a Master of Her Temple, lighting a fire which cannot be quenched except through the blood that is the life.
- And in the time of the reaping, the Master of those fields comes unto the Man, who comes unto his Master, and drunken upon the wine of the Communion of Saints, ever shall She rejoiceth when the Babe become Man takes Her as wife.
- Yea, takes Her as wife.
- And thereby cometh hurt, and joy, and bliss.
- And thereby cometh hurt, and joy, and bliss.
- For in the tending of the fields, and rolling amidst the grapes with his Master making wine, he gives unto her a child.
- Yea, a child, without which the Master and the Man cannot be One.
- In the Mystery of this Birth is the Magus born and brought unto his Mother's palaces.
- Yea, unto the palaces of that shining city, where the product of Her boundless fertility is shewn unto all, and the majesty of Her creation, now and forever, cannot be denied.
- But more of that Mystery it shall never be said.
A gut punch in the dark, and the expected becomes unexpected, and thereby the orlog is cast.
When an immovable force meets an incarnate object, a dance strange beyond strange ensues.
In the midst of the destruction, the emptiness, the things so long wanted laid to waste in the morning, she said unto me three things.
Algiz. Odal. Kenaz.
And with that, another personal apocalypse beyond form.
There is no hope for that what was, nor for that which is and shall be.
Beware the result of getting what has ever been so long desired, lest the voices of need whisper in the night to no avail.
Live March 30, 2020
Live December 5, 2019.
There are things that cannot be seen, shall not be known, and who strike of love alone.
When the silence becomes a throb of feedback at dawn, what was heard in the silence before?
Nothing quite prepares for that moment in time.
That which is and ever shall have been is already.
(Live October 22, 2019)
Live October 2, 2019.
That which is appointed ever is, and once woke, cannot be put to rest.
The fires, evermore.
That space beyond spaces, of which I could not speak.
Oh, my angels, I understand.
Take me home!
Bubble, bubble, toil, and the work of wickedness.
There are things on and about this earth that know all things, even how to launder pilfered intangible things.
Live June 22, 2019.
When words fail, and the places I must go loom large.
In a void beyond the primordial beginning, there is a reflective monolith beyond reflection, seven symbols engraved on each panel therein.
On the rounds appointed, sometimes the monster is me, wading through the aftermath of a storm.
Live May 16, 2019.
Some things drift through the endless sands.
Some things were meant for that place and that place alone.
From "A True and Faithful Relation", as recorded by Dee & Kelly, May 23, 1587.
"I am the daughter of Fortitude, and ravished every hour, from my youth.
For behold, I am Understanding, and Science dwelleth in me; and the heavens oppress me.
They covet and desire me with infinite appetite; few or none that are earthly have embraced me, for I am shadowed with the Circle of the Stone, and covered with the morning Clouds.
My feet are swifter than the winds, and my hands are sweeter than the morning dew.
My garments are from the beginning, and my dwelling place is in my self.
The Lion knoweth not where I walk, neither do the beasts of the field understand me.
I am deflowered, and yet a virgin; I sanctify, and am not sanctified. Happy is he that embraceth me: for in the night season I am sweet, and in the day full of pleasure.
My company is a harmony of many Cymbals, and my lips sweeter than health itself.
I am a harlot for such as ravish me, and a virgin with such as know me not: For Lo, I am loved of many, and I am a lover to many; and as many as come unto me as they should do, have entertainment. Purge your streets, O ye sons of men, and wash your houses clean; make yourselves holy, and put on righteousness.
Cast out your old strumpets, and burn their clothes; abstain from the company of other women that are defiled, that are sluttish, and not so handsome and beautiful as I, and then will I come and dwell amongst you: and behold, I will bring forth children unto you, and they shall be the sons of Comfort.
I will open my garments, and stand naked before you, that your love may be more enflamed toward me.
As yet, I walk in the clouds; as yet, I am carried with the winds, and cannot descend unto you for the multitude of your abominations, and the filthy loathsomeness of your dwelling places."
Live May 1, 2019.
Somewhere off the darkness of the mountaintop, the wicked way comes.
Oh, the wicked way.
Live April 3, 2019.
There are things I can never explain, but I can play them a song.
For She and thee, I await, coiled snake upon and around the blackest of eggs, the seeds for apocalypse, and the resting place of all my hopes.
This Equinox never did fade. But, even I must return, even if it is not the same who left.
Hangman, hangman, loose within the circle, Hangman of the ages speaking in the drips of scarlet run. Hangman, from this circle be done, Hangman, hangman, back to the mirror...
Veil one.
Invasion of the factory presets continue (#117 DreamSequence #118 Infinite Dly), battling it out for a piece of my soul.
A duet from times long past, for less than the price of a plugin.
Live February 28, 2019.
Give a man the ridiculous plate reverb he's been wanting, and he gets entranced by the cheesy factory harmonized presets. (#133, 3rd4th Pong)
The right space, the right glance, always leads to a dance.
The pre-tape echo warble version of "A dance, my dear, in the garden of the damned" (see https://soundcloud.com/rfurtkamp/a-dance-my-dear-in-the-garden-of-the-damned ) - this split off from the analog out of box mastering run and tape and Time Bender buggery.
There was a distance in her eyes, a reflection of mine.
And a space that could not be distinguished between.
Through the waking of the morning, let there be naught but what is in your summonings, in your invocations, in your curses.
What there is, is. There is naught else.
Abide by this, in the hour of darkness.
Follow through in the vanity of the night.
There is nothing but simple deaths fading on the misplaced winds. You who know so much and are a master of this realm, what say you now?
There is a light, distant and as if behind glass.
And in a blink of one eye, it is free.
So free that the old songs come unbidden to my lips, and she is there to caress the moment in time.
Welcome home, dark filtered six-stage hellion of old.
-- The last piece of my classic era gear has found me once again, the terrifying 1/4" power jack 18v monster, chewy, vocal, alive, and dark.
Without meaning to, an invocation of those days came forth as well.
I have not played this thing for public consumption in ....as long as it has been gone.
Live February 9, 2019.
It has been nearly as long as I can remember, but she has never led me astray.
Whether those clouds are tornadoes, inclement weather, the worst storms hitting the mountain passes, or a nuclear kiss, I love her all the same.
The star called wormwood, the stone of the trinity: these are her calling cards shaking up the aethyr this night.
There are vibrant, shifting colors on her skin as the gown hits the floor. There is a a dragon stretching from shoulder, cradling her breasts and reaching around her waist onto the legs. It is invisible beneath any clothes but alive and shaking and vibrant and unkempt, aroused.
And in the few moments that remained, there was no sadness therein.
Live January 26, 2019.
There is death in the air, and spirits carried off in the burning husks of the dead.
Duet fro the river, and how she flows.
Fake acoustic dreams, courtesy overly mic'd Casino.
Live January 15, 2019.
Audio from the first video session I've attempted in a long, long, long time.
In the moment, the danger passed.
Live January 2, 2019.
I am not much one for modulated delay ...unless it goes to insane.
And this is a fraction of said insane, along with sound on sound in an analog monster.
Sometimes, one must discover the depths beyond what any reasonable soul would intend, and in that impossible made possible, it is still a beautiful shine.
And soon, the discovery of the alternate wiring and options will commence.
Live January 2, 2019.
Testing a new beast (because I apparently needed one so much I ordered two?) doing things an analog delay just shouldn't do.
Duet for a waking frost as a new year fades.
And one of the few times this decade I have touched a wah (albeit the only one I can play these days with what's left of the foot)
The names I will never say, drawn slowly from her lips, taken light in the hall of golden air.
Live December 16, 2018.
Millions of fragments coalesce around the engraving, and become whole.
A ring that has never failed, and I will never forget.
Duet for that moment in time, eternal.
The Voice is sometimes heard more than felt.
And other times, it burns as it laughs, luminous and alive.
Her eyes, magnesium fire in the darkest embrace, carry with it a spark that burns through every fiber of my being.
Live November 24, 2018.
I've been a very busy person of late, and haven't been able to do anything but a particular piece of work that didn't involve music.
The intersection has returned.
O ye heavens which dwell in the first Aire, & are mighty in the parts of the earth, & execute therein the judgment of the highest, unto you it is said, ‘Behold the face of your God’, the beginning of comfort, whose eyes are the brightness of the heavens which provided you for the government of the earth, & her unspeakable variety, furnishing you with the power of understanding, that ye might dispose all things according to the foresight of Him that sitteth on the Holy Throne, & rose up in the beginning, saying, The earth, let her be governed by her parts that her glory may be always ecstasy, & irritation of orgasm. Her course, let it round with the heavens, & as an handmaid let her serve them.
One season let it confound another, & let there be no creature upon or within her the same. All her members let them differ in their qualities, & let there be no one creature equal with another.
The reasonable creatures of the earth & men, let them vex & weed out one another. And their dwelling places, let them forget their names. The work of man & his pomp, let them be defaced. His building let it be in a cave for the Beasts of the Field.
Confound her understanding with darkness. For why, it rejoiceth me concerning the Virgin & the Man.
One while let her be known, & another while a stranger, because she is the bed of an harlot, & the dwelling of him that is fallen.
O ye heavens, arise; the lower heavens beneath you, let them serve you.
Govern those that govern; cast down such as fall; bring forth those that increase; & destroy the rotten.
No place let it remain in one number. Add & diminish until the stars be numbered.
Arise! move! & appear! before the covenant of his mouth which he hath shewn unto us in his justice.
Open the mysteries of your creation, and make us partakers of the undefiled knowledge.
In Nomine BABALON, arise!
Live October 25, 2018.
A flash in the moment of time, with mere moments to change things between songs and twist knobs.
Objects in mirror may appear to have been larger than they took to appear.
Live October 25, 2018.
A flash in the moment of time, with mere moments to change things between songs and twist knobs.
Objects in mirror may appear to have been larger than they took to appear.
Sometimes, the only humane thing to do is to kill the beast.
Or, "time to test the fake SDD-320"
The keening of the spirit in the clouds is real - crying for release, for vengeance, for reparations.
Live October 6, 2018.
Or, an ode to automated on-off sync'd switching gone awry.
Live September 29, 2018.
Inspired by a question I was asked.
Fender Hot Rod Deluxe, isolated hard left. Set clean but very hot, my normal "not gunning for clean jazz fakery" or "I won't be using a dirtbox for this but want some hair"
Marshall DSL1 with 1x12 closed back cab, isolated hard right. Set "just shy of permanent overdrive", i.e. my normal "clean" setting. Amp settings in photo not what is used.
No post other than setting equivalent levels roughly in the mix, both cabs close-mic'd with matching Oktava condensers.
(Or, why one cannot replace the other)
The very first song I ever recorded, from the 1/4" master that wasn't particularly worthy of the name.
This came out of nowhere, and attracted more than its share of interest.
I have not made this available in YEARS for contractual reasons, but...it's been long enough.
LIve September 26, 2018.
What I could have been, I have always been.
And she has always been there.
Promises kept, again.
Live September 25, 2018.
With freezing bite, the winter's might spread across the land.
A blast of fire, and the mountain, alight.
There is no safety on the mount - no matter the offering, burnt or otherwise.
The Voice in the void sometimes must sing.
(prompted by discovering that one can load any Source Audio standard size pedal's sound engines into ANY of them and was able to replicate one of my original oddball six-stage phasers to a ludicrous degree, instructions at: https://github.com/cyberbehoerde/Source-Audio-All-in-One-Series )
It is all qabalistic bingo until someone unseats the Queen.
Testing the robotuners and preferred strings, awfully loud.
Live September 15, 2018.
Calling up the distant is closer than it would appear.
And how they come.
Sometimes, one does not breach the walls of the Most HIgh to steal fire for man.
Sometimes one just comes to kill.
Duet for a one-way ticket to ride the whirlwind.
Live August 31, 2018.
And in the aires, a mother cries over children lost in war. She will never forget, and cannot leave.
The aires are thin, and the creatures that ride the currents translucent in the darkness - only coming into view as sunrise dawns.
Sometimes the stars collide in a most beautiful dance.
And thus is the waiting a thing of grandeur.
A trio lets it rip on the holiest of days, in such a dense imagining - yet it leaves no shadow.
Fear the ides of Sitar July, from a FDP Blues/Jazz backing track gone horribly, horribly wrong.
Sitar, synth trumpet, and a cranked half stack abuse some poor house band in the middle of nowhere.
"Plants that cannot bloom by day must flower in the night", indeed.
Live July 5, 2018.
A happy accident of all sorts, most things weren't even hooked up for what I intended to do, and reaching over to the guitar stand, elbowed a "chord" on the synth, and...what a sound. Letting it fade, flipping the amp off standby, and hitting record (and the synth almost falling in my lap more than once while scrambling to find a pick and playing simultaneously)....is how happy accidents fly.
It was as the vision foretold: a shaking veil dance, wisps of steel and smoke aflame in her eyes, raining down from the mountaintop.
Live June 30, 2018.
I could have included this one on the "could have been in 1962" fake album I threatened people with a few years back.
And the end was brutal and beautiful.
A duet for pain and the shallow sounds of mourning.
When the distance is too deep and the morning has become pastel black, there is no other choice.
And the drowned flower in time, a dance of the morning given way from spring.
"Yours will be as this", it is said.
Live June 23, 2018.
Live June 14, 2018.
"I have seen the night without the sun, where even the steps of its' name cannot vie against the thick darkness dancing from a shadow in the hills.
There is no moon, despite a clearness of sky, broken only by a center of mist rising between fading stars. There is a flicker in the ether; a wandering death fades through a pattern-locked place.
Distant suns would echo in a normal night, but only two can remain and be seen straining against the swallowed earth, dry and hiding in bleak midnights where smiles fade and terror creeps.
There is no god in this void." Book of the Mountain, entry 209.
Occasionally, I hear one of Mr. Boethius' songs, and have to chime, or fake organ, in.
(Original available at https://soundcloud.com/bill-boethius/space-full-of-rain )
Live June 11, 2018.
There are times when the light must escape, and the demiurge closed off.
It was going to be one of those fire-brimmed mornings on the mountain.
Let the thirteenth key be laid to rest.
Live June 8, 2018.
So it has ever been, a blasted witching hour in the smoke.
I have seen Her in my dreams, and have stared into the eyes that I cannot placate, nor provide anything that it does not already have, yet it looks and smiles
The charring and the shells and the burning thereof.
Sizzle beyond simmer, serves two for a generation.
And power in the breaking.
Or, the story of best intentions and leaving with less than one started the journey with.
In the ashen fields, not even boots of lead will save the pain.
A duet for the parting of ways.
Live May 19, 2018.
The saga of the reckoning, and the places it led, and one companion that had seen it all.
It was in the first moment of the morning that the purple mountain appeared, and the storm raged.
There were ghosts at the peak, ones that did not travel with.
And they sang their stories to any who would listen.
I imagine they are still there to this day, howling.
I remember it well, twisted and worn.
And it probably sits there forever, a sentinel to things that I was, once.
Those days are gone.
Ghosts, two decades removed as hazy sunrise comes to pass.
A duet for the riders of the flat lands given way to mountaintop questions.
Duet for the watcher at the threshold - even though the mountain is steep and dark, he is always there.
And this is his story.
When the wash subsides and the bodies scored to ash, the cries remain at the wasted tower.
Duet for what could have been.
Duet for the mood hanging on the mountaintop, and then there was rain.
As loud as the room can stand.
Live April 11, 2018.
I can feel the call of the years and the space beyond; she has left an offering for me.
Twenty years ago, she led me into the world where I would find home.
The least I could do was kill her.
Live March 19, 2018.
When the echoing flange of time grows rusty and old, ghosts keep time.
We kept watch over the wails and the wall, and tossed the corpses one by one into the depths below.
Duet for zero, the morning.
Duet for fading trines and the division in each step.
And for the unspoken rise and fall, and the beauty therein.
When you give a carpenter twelve angles and no order to attack, the morning is far gone.
"What I am missing most in this moment is the exploration of the creation of the Great Voice, a channelling of you and what is beyond you focused on the instant of revelation, where merge the physical and the void, and the many ways of extracting the sound from whatever space it comes, to hear the brilliance of creation cascade from your throat and erupt from nothingness in a rhythm that changes with each utterance, simple and unexplained; I would hear that Voice no matter how it is uttered, and in the wonder of the moment, join you in song."
There are always three, and me.
There is a whisper, then gone.
And the library in the void is home once again.
Live February 20, 2018.
There are star sponges beyond the vision, bright enough to obscure the haze and the glare.
Duet for the breaking and the way.
Live January 29, 2018. Corrected, actual intended track.
A remembrance of all things Roland T. Rat, gone too soon.
What happens when a blender and a toaster collide in the bath? A little feedback, a little warble, a lot of sax, some guitar.
Original track from Bill Boethius and Leonel Cardoso here: https://soundcloud.com/bill-boethius/wings-over-the-abyss
The stones have never forgot the words that made them whole.
Duet for the crackling warmth of burning dust.
This fire is not for warmth in winter; it is of love and its remains, gone alight into the darkness.
(and they said "It won't do high A, strings will pop left and right, you'll never find a use for it...."...and I love it all the more)
One must become the whole of the river, the whole of the world, the whole of the space in a quest for the most base of things.
"A ring!" she cried.
(or what happens when a cripple on holiday replaces the high E with a high A string on a seven string, part two of two)
When the river runs dark and the longing carries me home.
(or what happens when a cripple on holiday replaces the high E with a high A string on a seven string, part one of two)
When a trio of travellers finds the bodies heaped and the day a stalemate.
A rare experiment in abusing DADGAD.
In the mists, in that last half hour, drifting to nothing, it was Angie, Finnegan, and me.
There is a simple place beyond the veil, one last stop before the hells, and he tends the bar until the end of things.
The phantoms of tape linger on past their life, courtesy one erase head only set to pass most of it away.
Duet for a gatekeeper at dawn, how she smiled and vanished as the darkness folded within her eyes.
Faced with another trip to the hells, the only way out was removing the dialysis catheter by my own hand.
A reminder of what was, several years gone by.
Original track by Bill Boethius, "Cry 'Havoc'!", available at https://soundcloud.com/bill-boethius/cry-havoc
Live, one pass improv from an angry cripple with a new white angel who needs a leash.
"There is a sadness that lingers pondering such things, as the cost is already high, but there is no revoking what has been called. Such things are left to drift in the pool in the void, beside the shore where a tent is pitched, at the space where childhood begins and ends. I have meddled, and the Will has meddled with me; at an impasse where the world began to melt into formless void, and things best left hidden crept into plain view, the prophecy from the mountain was fulfilled, and all was cast aside."
Duet for the frosty touch of autumn, a last caress of things that should always be.
The Space Echo was lonely today, unused, unloved, just passing signal in the night.
Live September 29, 2017.
And how it never could be, and the paths they walked without worry.
Live September 24, 2017.
Fire in the boiler, death in the heart; there is no sky-sight in the darkest night.
Live September 23, 2017.
One keyboard, one guitar, two amps, and two hands in unreal time.
Live September 16, 2017.
The tears were deep, and the void: she was all things in untime.
Live September 11, 2017.
When the moon is short, we will never forget the market street hero of the morning.
A little bit of hell, a little sprinkle of synth, and a whole lot of rumble makes a morning go.
You too can swap batteries in an ebow in real time.
Original track by Agitation Phi, available here:
https://soundcloud.com/agitationphi/living-bass-continues-to-unfold-the-solar-myth-2
It matters not whether there are still monsters, or a sea left to sail.
They will always set forth in the night.
Sometimes one can go home again, only to find that aliens with stepped phase rifles have taken root therein.
A trio for triage, and the hospice of souls.
When broadcasts fade in accordance with their Will: this is a testament of the crackle and the hum and the nuclear fire.
When reaching for the moment, the heavens rain down and the wormwood star lights in the distance.
Collaboration with Agitation Phi ( https://soundcloud.com/agitationphi ), original song found at:
https://soundcloud.com/agitationphi/s-c-l-e-r-o-t-i-a-s-o-u-n-d-s-y-s-t-e-m-binaural-bass-innovations-for-the-noaesphere
Live in the studio caves, as it should be.
Sometimes one needs a little upright assistance.
Original track by Bill Boethius, available here:
https://soundcloud.com/bill-boethius/nine-wells-of-weird
The spirit organ is alive; there is a stone arrow on the flood plain - she is aright in the winds.
Duet for the monsters of the morning stretched into infinite space and finite time.
And I can still smell her, burning on the aires.
The haze and the heat rise over the mangled field.
And she smiles, as the dead are always friends.
I knew sooner or later there would be digital fuzz worth a shit.
I didn't think I'd live to see it.
Live June 22, 2017.
Prayers that melt in a nuclear wind.
Live June 21, 2017.
Regular ol' guitar controlling the System-1 via GT-100 MIDI out, plus some toys.
LIve June 17, 2017.
Moments of time, of times I've seen before.
She always walks beside a wooded river in dream.
And in the gauzy haze of a river-lit evening, she was perfect aglow - a warmth beyond that of the voices of the dead.
Live June 7, 2017
All things are union, and two dance in the garden as dance in the heavenly halls and in the distant hells.
Sometimes pain leads to grand places, canyons that are otherwise beyond experience.
Live May 26, 2017 (Bass VI/guitar synth gone wrong)
Live May 25, 2016
To Mega Pan Pan, Autopan pan pan.
Abusing the spacial time coordinates by program alone, no hands on sliders - somebody asked about automatic envelope panning.
there are dreams of carpet bombing and the pain of morning, when the guitar is almost too heavy to hold.
Through blood and death and the onset of spring, it always flies west beyond the wall of dream.
Live May 7, 2016
When your proper quartet is three Bass VIs and a lonely guitarist...you've found your way to my cave.
Tesla bleen shoes, untie!
Or, how it seems that I have developed a modular synth of stuffs again.
Traditional reading on the third day of the writing of the Book of the Law, as I do every year.
Traditional reading on the second day of the writing of the Book of the Law, as I do every year.
Traditional reading on the first day of the writing of the Book of the Law, as I do every year.
Live March 29, 2017.
There is a static in the aires, a murmur in the hedges, and the breaking comes.
Duet in microtime, where the whistle and the wave are one.
And the tubes hum in the morning mist.
Added live guitar improv and a lot of oscillating mean.
Original bass track by Agitation Phi, "Delta Paece", available at:
https://soundcloud.com/agitationphi/delta-paece-bass
And Owl set to sea in a beautiful pea-green boat, only to see the fiercest of all whaledom before him.
Sometimes, in the space between death and wishing for death, there is a light.
A frozen light, and she is beautiful therein.
Original track by Agitation Phi, "United In Dreams The Goddess Bound A Razor Of The Seventh Sun Cuts Prismatic Eclipse And Celestial Seas To Sing A Thousand Hymns Starforged In Shimmering Twilight On Tracks Of Purple And Green", available at:
https://soundcloud.com/agitationphi/united-in-dreams
Both the original track and my additions are one-shot, one pass, may the gods save our sanity!
The end times, a Trinitite of sound, all that remains.
Green glass in the desert sand forevermore.
Miscast transmissions: part two
Sometimes, the stars are alight and aright, and the fingers trace familiar ways.
Stooping by starlight, implied in sundown.
Duet for the early kiss of evening.
(and to save the first question: filters are all in the Mustang V head)
Collaboration between Bill Boethius and some angry cripple.
Original track here:
https://soundcloud.com/bill-boethius/viral-reality/
Live February 16, 2017.
Sometimes, the machines take their revenge as the power grid hiccups.
They falter but do not die.
(and that warble at 2:30ish was the result of a flicker, flicker, almost bam on the power grid)
Live February 15, 2017.
The silence is not all it seems as light breaks over the mountain's edge.
"This is life as it should be lived, in acknowledgement, commensurally. The rituals - the dances - sacred and profane, solemn and wild, alternating with festivals. We live a symbol of what we know it is, and, finally transcending the symbols, become one with it." - Jack Parsons to Cameron, 1950.
Attack of the stainless steel picks, volume three.
No synths were harmed in the making of this production
Live January 24, 2017.
A meditation on sound, fury, and the echo that destroyed the silence.
Live January 21, 2017.
In that garden, I have become the soil in which the future and the past can grow.
All things ash, but from the burning and the pain, flowers flourish.
Original track by Bill Boethius, "Cosmic Juice", with a bit of overlay by some angry cripple.
https://soundcloud.com/bill-boethius for original track and more quality stuffs.
Guitar-controlled System 1 and an angry untethered satellite dance in the ink of night.
In the depths of the spaces between spaces, the shells are empty too.
Only a crackle remains, the ash of a former thing amidst the nothing.
Duet for broken souls.
When guitars control virtual armies of electronic toys in ways that could not be sync'd in Ye Olden Times.
Live December 23, 2016
That black triangle, it keep the spirits in.
Duet for guitar-controlled (monophonic guitar to MIDI interpreter) synth and fuzzbox supreme.
And hopefully soon, the hardware comes.
Oh, yes, the words and worlds that will be destroyed.
Only in the twenty-first century can you play with an instrument before it actually appears, or its digital cousin.
Waiting for the System 1's hardware arrival and broken guitar evenings.
Live December 11, 2016
It doesn't make rational sense - sometimes you chain things together, and end up with something that is neither the sum of the parts nor even in the same ballpark.
Three little pigs, and a broken record - they dance on her eye.
Post-production plugin rarity, done the same as everything else - real time, it works or it don't.
Live December 5, 2016.
Finally can go room mic only, it's damn bright out after all.
And the earth crackles and moves again.
Live December 4, 2016
When vision fades and blur is all that remains, paint with noise and it is there.
Live October 16, 2016.
One mic, one little battery powered amp, and nothing below 100hz.
Snarl, bite, and the demons in the wires that the Captain warned us about.
Started looking through the orphan songs in the catalog, and arranging them for release where appropriate.
These aren't studio scraps or remnants; I'm unfortunately prolific enough that I seem to have a burst of recording energy the minute I release an album or package one up as "complete."
I try not to release two albums in a day or similar silliness when possible, and over time, the collected songs that would otherwise creep onto a project accumulated up to something substantial.
I've spent the last few weeks making sense of the collection of orphaned children, and the first release of several is now live, just in time for spoopy holiday fun.
Free, as always, 24/96 FLAC available at no additional charge.
Started looking through the orphan songs in the catalog, and arranging them for release where appropriate.
These aren't studio scraps or remnants; I'm unfortunately prolific enough that I seem to have a burst of recording energy the minute I release an album or package one up as "complete."
I try not to release two albums in a day or similar silliness when possible, and over time, the collected songs that would otherwise creep onto a project accumulated up to something substantial.
I've spent the last few weeks making sense of the collection of orphaned children, and the first release of several is now live, just in time for spoopy holiday fun.
Free, as always, 24/96 FLAC available at no additional charge.
Started looking through the orphan songs in the catalog, and arranging them for release where appropriate.
These aren't studio scraps or remnants; I'm unfortunately prolific enough that I seem to have a burst of recording energy the minute I release an album or package one up as "complete."
I try not to release two albums in a day or similar silliness when possible, and over time, the collected songs that would otherwise creep onto a project accumulated up to something substantial.
I've spent the last few weeks making sense of the collection of orphaned children, and the first release of several is now live, just in time for spoopy holiday fun.
Free, as always, 24/96 FLAC available at no additional charge.
Started looking through the orphan songs in the catalog, and arranging them for release where appropriate.
These aren't studio scraps or remnants; I'm unfortunately prolific enough that I seem to have a burst of recording energy the minute I release an album or package one up as "complete."
I try not to release two albums in a day or similar silliness when possible, and over time, the collected songs that would otherwise creep onto a project accumulated up to something substantial.
I've spent the last few weeks making sense of the collection of orphaned children, and the first release of several is now live, just in time for spoopy holiday fun.
Free, as always, 24/96 FLAC available at no additional charge.
Started looking through the orphan songs in the catalog, and arranging them for release where appropriate.
These aren't studio scraps or remnants; I'm unfortunately prolific enough that I seem to have a burst of recording energy the minute I release an album or package one up as "complete."
I try not to release two albums in a day or similar silliness when possible, and over time, the collected songs that would otherwise creep onto a project accumulated up to something substantial.
I've spent the last few weeks making sense of the collection of orphaned children, and the first release of several is now live, just in time for spoopy holiday fun.
Free, as always, 24/96 FLAC available at no additional charge.
Started looking through the orphan songs in the catalog, and arranging them for release where appropriate.
These aren't studio scraps or remnants; I'm unfortunately prolific enough that I seem to have a burst of recording energy the minute I release an album or package one up as "complete."
I try not to release two albums in a day or similar silliness when possible, and over time, the collected songs that would otherwise creep onto a project accumulated up to something substantial.
I've spent the last few weeks making sense of the collection of orphaned children, and the first release of several is now live, just in time for spoopy holiday fun.
Free, as always, 24/96 FLAC available at no additional charge.
Started looking through the orphan songs in the catalog, and arranging them for release where appropriate.
These aren't studio scraps or remnants; I'm unfortunately prolific enough that I seem to have a burst of recording energy the minute I release an album or package one up as "complete."
I try not to release two albums in a day or similar silliness when possible, and over time, the collected songs that would otherwise creep onto a project accumulated up to something substantial.
I've spent the last few weeks making sense of the collection of orphaned children, and the first release of several is now live, just in time for spoopy holiday fun.
Free, as always, 24/96 FLAC available at no additional charge.
Started looking through the orphan songs in the catalog, and arranging them for release where appropriate.
These aren't studio scraps or remnants; I'm unfortunately prolific enough that I seem to have a burst of recording energy the minute I release an album or package one up as "complete."
I try not to release two albums in a day or similar silliness when possible, and over time, the collected songs that would otherwise creep onto a project accumulated up to something substantial.
I've spent the last few weeks making sense of the collection of orphaned children, and the first release of several is now live, just in time for spoopy holiday fun.
Free, as always, 24/96 FLAC available at no additional charge.
Started looking through the orphan songs in the catalog, and arranging them for release where appropriate.
These aren't studio scraps or remnants; I'm unfortunately prolific enough that I seem to have a burst of recording energy the minute I release an album or package one up as "complete."
I try not to release two albums in a day or similar silliness when possible, and over time, the collected songs that would otherwise creep onto a project accumulated up to something substantial.
I've spent the last few weeks making sense of the collection of orphaned children, and the first release of several is now live, just in time for spoopy holiday fun.
Free, as always, 24/96 FLAC available at no additional charge.
Started looking through the orphan songs in the catalog, and arranging them for release where appropriate.
These aren't studio scraps or remnants; I'm unfortunately prolific enough that I seem to have a burst of recording energy the minute I release an album or package one up as "complete."
I try not to release two albums in a day or similar silliness when possible, and over time, the collected songs that would otherwise creep onto a project accumulated up to something substantial.
I've spent the last few weeks making sense of the collection of orphaned children, and the first release of several is now live, just in time for spoopy holiday fun.
Free, as always, 24/96 FLAC available at no additional charge.
Started looking through the orphan songs in the catalog, and arranging them for release where appropriate.
These aren't studio scraps or remnants; I'm unfortunately prolific enough that I seem to have a burst of recording energy the minute I release an album or package one up as "complete."
I try not to release two albums in a day or similar silliness when possible, and over time, the collected songs that would otherwise creep onto a project accumulated up to something substantial.
I've spent the last few weeks making sense of the collection of orphaned children, and the first release of several is now live, just in time for spoopy holiday fun.
Free, as always, 24/96 FLAC available at no additional charge.
And never to be seen, the plates erupt as the caldera takes its first and final flight.
When there is no call to prayer, sometimes one must make do with the tools at one's disposal.
Duet for shattered visions, where two inconsistent visions of the same scene must co-exist and co-mingle.
Shake a moment, a little rust, a little broken thing.
Foot well enough to wah enough again means only one thing!
2006 album found in the archive - I'd honestly forgotten making it as it was the last thing I believe was done before I first got extremely sick.
Heavy abuse of synth filters and wacky mean inside.
Free download as always!
2006 album found in the archive - I'd honestly forgotten making it as it was the last thing I believe was done before I first got extremely sick.
Heavy abuse of synth filters and wacky mean inside.
Free download as always!
2006 album found in the archive - I'd honestly forgotten making it as it was the last thing I believe was done before I first got extremely sick.
Heavy abuse of synth filters and wacky mean inside.
Free download as always!
2006 album found in the archive - I'd honestly forgotten making it as it was the last thing I believe was done before I first got extremely sick.
Heavy abuse of synth filters and wacky mean inside.
Free download as always!
2006 album found in the archive - I'd honestly forgotten making it as it was the last thing I believe was done before I first got extremely sick.
Heavy abuse of synth filters and wacky mean inside.
Free download as always!
2006 album found in the archive - I'd honestly forgotten making it as it was the last thing I believe was done before I first got extremely sick.
Heavy abuse of synth filters and wacky mean inside.
Free download as always!
2006 album found in the archive - I'd honestly forgotten making it as it was the last thing I believe was done before I first got extremely sick.
Heavy abuse of synth filters and wacky mean inside.
Free download as always!
2006 album found in the archive - I'd honestly forgotten making it as it was the last thing I believe was done before I first got extremely sick.
Heavy abuse of synth filters and wacky mean inside.
Free download as always!
2006 album found in the archive - I'd honestly forgotten making it as it was the last thing I believe was done before I first got extremely sick.
Heavy abuse of synth filters and wacky mean inside.
Free download as always!
2006 album found in the archive - I'd honestly forgotten making it as it was the last thing I believe was done before I first got extremely sick.
Heavy abuse of synth filters and wacky mean inside.
Free download as always!
2006 album found in the archive - I'd honestly forgotten making it as it was the last thing I believe was done before I first got extremely sick.
Heavy abuse of synth filters and wacky mean inside.
Free download as always!
2006 album found in the archive - I'd honestly forgotten making it as it was the last thing I believe was done before I first got extremely sick.
Heavy abuse of synth filters and wacky mean inside.
Free download as always!
It is said,
"The really great Magus speaks and acts impromptu and extempore."
And sometimes the voices are layered in the mist and the haze and become one in three in time.
The High Performance Eagle has landed.
Blisteringly expensive but it's why I don't pay for TV or cell phone!
It awaits an intervention from the 339. Have paramedics ready.
Abusing my inner Pharaoh, courtesy guitar synth gone bad.
RoNniE Free Improv 's original Trib to Sonny Sharrock, seemed to be missing someone.
Original @ https://soundcloud.com/ronniefree.
I've always been appalled at the fact that MOCA did nothing to fix the godawful audio track on this VHS recording.
There are still a few room noises and phantoms, but it's not 80% or more VHS tape drag noise any more.
There's some ghosting/modulation in sections but it is what it is.
Original video here, you can sync it yourself (I edited nothing nor trimmed silence) as I don't do video.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rKHALUlObgQ&feature=youtu.be
Singing and dancing on the head of a pin, the angel comes closest in the green fade to nothingness.
Oh, microphonic vintage ECC83, how I love you.
I can still feel the hills as the blackness comes and fade begins.
Take two because Soundcloud fucked up the first upload attempt.
Out from the center, back inside, a black pulse on a white-hot life.
Live July 27, 2015
Gibson 339 Studio into Boss GL-100, my standard supermean setting which is a tweaked HM-2.
Light delay+verb into a Hot Rod Deluxe clean channel.
Done because I keep getting asked about this forgotten piece of gear history.
Another in the summer 2015 "Abusive Guitar Duets" series.
I do not think those words mean what you think they do, Inigo.
Live November 2, 2013.
2016 proper masters of live in the room recording, she is what she is.
For a minute, the hippest place in the state.
Improv or Die was:
Robert Furtkamp: guitar, Bass VI, guitar synth The mighty, mighty Dubkitty: guitar, pedalboard
Live November 2, 2013.
2016 proper masters of live in the room recording, she is what she is.
For a minute, the hippest place in the state.
Improv or Die was:
Robert Furtkamp: guitar, Bass VI, guitar synth The mighty, mighty Dubkitty: guitar, pedalboard
Live November 2, 2013.
2016 proper masters of live in the room recording, she is what she is.
For a minute, the hippest place in the state.
Improv or Die was:
Robert Furtkamp: guitar, Bass VI, guitar synth The mighty, mighty Dubkitty: guitar, pedalboard
Live November 2, 2013.
2016 proper masters of live in the room recording, she is what she is.
For a minute, the hippest place in the state.
Improv or Die was:
Robert Furtkamp: guitar, Bass VI, guitar synth The mighty, mighty Dubkitty: guitar, pedalboard
Live November 2, 2013.
2016 proper masters of live in the room recording, she is what she is.
For a minute, the hippest place in the state.
Improv or Die was:
Robert Furtkamp: guitar, Bass VI, guitar synth The mighty, mighty Dubkitty: guitar, pedalboard
Live October 6, 2013.
Absolute free improv, in glorious stereo(TM) sound. Proper 2016 mastered edition, been meaning to get around to this for quite some time.
Live in the room recording, so it is what it is, but sometimes, what it is is glorious.
Improv or Die was:
Robert Furtkamp: guitar, Bass VI, guitar synth The mighty, mighty Dubkitty: guitar, pedalboard
Live October 6, 2013.
Absolute free improv, in glorious stereo(TM) sound. Proper 2016 mastered edition, been meaning to get around to this for quite some time.
Live in the room recording, so it is what it is, but sometimes, what it is is glorious.
Improv or Die was:
Robert Furtkamp: guitar, Bass VI, guitar synth The mighty, mighty Dubkitty: guitar, pedalboard
Live October 6, 2013.
Absolute free improv, in glorious stereo(TM) sound. Proper 2016 mastered edition, been meaning to get around to this for quite some time.
Live in the room recording, so it is what it is, but sometimes, what it is is glorious.
Improv or Die was:
Robert Furtkamp: guitar, Bass VI, guitar synth The mighty, mighty Dubkitty: guitar, pedalboard
2005 solo album, the closest I ever got to electronica and featuring a lot more keyboards and percussion than normal.
2016 remaster
2005 solo album, the closest I ever got to electronica and featuring a lot more keyboards and percussion than normal.
2016 remaster
2005 solo album, the closest I ever got to electronica and featuring a lot more keyboards and percussion than normal.
2016 remaster
2005 solo album, the closest I ever got to electronica and featuring a lot more keyboards and percussion than normal.
2016 remaster
2005 solo album, the closest I ever got to electronica and featuring a lot more keyboards and percussion than normal.
2016 remaster
2005 solo album, the closest I ever got to electronica and featuring a lot more keyboards and percussion than normal.
2016 remaster
2005 solo album, the closest I ever got to electronica and featuring a lot more keyboards and percussion than normal.
2016 remaster
2005 solo album, the closest I ever got to electronica and featuring a lot more keyboards and percussion than normal.
2016 remaster
2005 solo album, the closest I ever got to electronica and featuring a lot more keyboards and percussion than normal.
2016 remaster
2005 solo album, the closest I ever got to electronica and featuring a lot more keyboards and percussion than normal.
2016 remaster
2005 solo album, the closest I ever got to electronica and featuring a lot more keyboards and percussion than normal.
2016 remaster
With a few bucks finally coming from the previous release, and digital distribution finally a possibility if you knew a friendly ISP and administrator to give you a then princely 100mb of storage space, Serpent was a return to Chicago-era form, complete with the last track recorded before getting the hell out of Dodge. If I knew then what I do now, I'd probably have substantially reworked a couple of songs on this album. Nah, I'd have kept it as it was and recorded more. It's what I do.
Still, "Apocalypse weaving" firmly establishes why I don't live in major urban areas any more; the stress, congestion, the people, all crushing together just waiting to be set off by any event, good or bad.
(2018 24/96 remaster from the source files, after realizing I never uploaded this to Soundcloud)
With a few bucks finally coming from the previous release, and digital distribution finally a possibility if you knew a friendly ISP and administrator to give you a then princely 100mb of storage space, Serpent was a return to Chicago-era form, complete with the last track recorded before getting the hell out of Dodge. If I knew then what I do now, I'd probably have substantially reworked a couple of songs on this album. Nah, I'd have kept it as it was and recorded more. It's what I do.
Still, "Apocalypse weaving" firmly establishes why I don't live in major urban areas any more; the stress, congestion, the people, all crushing together just waiting to be set off by any event, good or bad.
(2018 24/96 remaster from the source files, after realizing I never uploaded this to Soundcloud)
With a few bucks finally coming from the previous release, and digital distribution finally a possibility if you knew a friendly ISP and administrator to give you a then princely 100mb of storage space, Serpent was a return to Chicago-era form, complete with the last track recorded before getting the hell out of Dodge. If I knew then what I do now, I'd probably have substantially reworked a couple of songs on this album. Nah, I'd have kept it as it was and recorded more. It's what I do.
Still, "Apocalypse weaving" firmly establishes why I don't live in major urban areas any more; the stress, congestion, the people, all crushing together just waiting to be set off by any event, good or bad.
(2018 24/96 remaster from the source files, after realizing I never uploaded this to Soundcloud)
From the 1999 album, "Serpent at the End of the Rainbow", featuring the last track I recorded before heading west permanently to freedom.
The first section is from my last live show, grafted to a "later that night" analog 8 track session.
I had no choice but to leave - the shadows and death were on the verge everywhere.