Music Re/View 4 (Retrospective)

I decided to first listen to this album just before dusk and stare into the sun for every track except number 17// Mine came in a large box with other stuff I ordered and was at the bottom of the box with a 5 pound box of car care products stacked on top of it// That evening, I fell into a place where two seas met// It was boring and not interesting at all// I was expecting a cosmic ride of nature and bliss/ but I guess that'd really depend on the sort of party you'd throw...// My theory is that the album is about extinction of our species, technology as a replacement, and then the extinction of that//  I can only listen to it on my PSP, and the folder lists everything in alphabetical order and I'm so frustrated// What was once considered imagination has now become a global discourse which is rooted in/ The Little House on the Prairie// Color me hyped// I just wrote this review because it really is my opinion and I think this view should be represented a bit better.

Some artists like to push the square boundaries and it undermines them (not genuine), others like to remain safely within the square and it undermines them/ much like the doomsayers who constantly complain about society's lack of a global conscience// As it stands, however, their aural magic is as evocative as ever, and with their alchemical skills, they could well invent a fifth element, or more// They have families now. How cool is that?// Sure, the endless game playing, the continual puzzles do tire after a while/ but it sounds fresh and vital. They're looking back to take their sound forwards// I've been fantarding over them for the past 10 or 11 years, and they're one of my favorite bands ever// Their target market? Doomsday preppers/ faggots, white people, Fins, posers, serious americans and blatant trolls!

If, heaven forbid, Google does become sentient and chooses to turn our nuclear weapons against us for the ‘greater good’ I couldn’t imagine a better soundtrack to accompany an endless trek across the barren wastelands// Listen with the lights on/ because the fabric of their music is creating complex, confounding scenarios that tease the mind as much as they satisfy it// You just let it happen to you like rape role play// The granular murk of earlier albums is gone, allowing/ an eclectic mix of grimy, melodic moments that range from creepy to happy, and all the grey in between// Informed by some of the more unhinged talents of the dubstep sphere, the drums are delivered with near physical precision, impacting on your chest with a tribal grace// A symphony of mobile phone interference (or some equivalent digital noise) is looped into a rhythm with a low-slung bassline and slo-mo beats// Behind a wall of undulating synths there are fragments of what could be alien transmissions/ like a buzzing fly trapped in a jam jar – or maybe a synthesised didgeridoo// There are some strange, distended vocal yelps// This album is one of the deepest stuff I ever listened in my life// Listen to it tonight and then listen to it tomorrow night and then listen to it monday night, and preferably tuesday night as well.

You ever felt like you really gotta use the bathroom and when you're doing your business, next to nothing comes out?// There is nothing radically new here – just a slight overhauling of tone, a broadening of theme and a refinement of technique// Such an approach is perfectly suited to the echo chamber dynamics of modern music news, where each new tidbit of information brings the story back to the top of the timeline// Occasionally it'll pull you out of your work-induced trance to induce a "whoah" kind of moment, but it's not DEMANDING of your full focus to enjoy it// Some might call that art, but I call it an easy fish to fry, and not particularly memorable// Imagine quarantines, shady military decisions made coming through your walkie talkie, and total desolation// Nobody would notice if you put a rubber band on your glasses, so they wouldn't fall down while you're talking.

One day I was falling in and out of sleep while listing to this album, the results of this were extremely interesting// I saw not a soul in sight, and I remember feeling so lonely and terrified of how surreal and empty the whole world felt// I'm afraid I can't really remember what it sounded like// I honestly couldn't finish the album in one sitting because I found it really redundant// I'm ill and potentially facing serious medical problems at the moment, so maybe this just puts me in a really bad mood// As such it’s difficult not to feel a bit cynical about the whole thing, particularly given that/ I somehow own three of their albums so far but I can't say I'm head over heels about any of them// I just wanted to let you know that your face is the most annoying thing I have ever seen// If you haven't even read this far, if you're already thinking of ways to insult me or tell me I'm wrong or explain why you're not pretentious: you're pretentious// I feel like my dog and I are on this desperate escape from the abyss and nothingness of my environment.

Here's how you can tell if someone is pretentious about their music: they can't understand why someone might like/dislike a certain song/band/genre// Besides the fact that they seem to over do the arppegiator/ they argue constantly that they have GREAT taste in music and explain in detail why this is so and why others are wrong. Maybe they need more time to realize the opposite?// I recommend the 6-900 µg range// It creates a mixture of emotions so closely fused that they're almost unidentifiable// The way it’s framed warrants unfriendly feelings of isolation, grief, and malaise yet there’s also this nagging, embalming warmth to it that surfaces shortly after// Its the fuckin shits!

This review is total clown shoes// I am currently testing my trackpads sensitivity as it keeps jumping around/ so before you call me an idiot make sure you actually understand what you are talking about// There is a lot more that I could say about this record. But as with many critically acclaimed albums I often wonder if I should even bother// I can also judge your judgement and say it is invalid. I'm judging everything but I hate people who judge things.

Shaun Morris: 'Quiet Signs' At Asylum Gallery, Wolverhampton

A lack of dynamism, and adequate forward thinking on my part, mean I'm posting this at unreasonably short notice - for which, apologies to all concerned.

Nevertheless, it would be remiss not to publicise the fact that my friend, Shaun Morris, has another exhibition of his paintings about to open at Asylum Gallery, Wolverhampton.  By the time I post this, the Opening Event will be only hours away (Friday 15 March, 6 pm - 9 pm), but the exhibition itself is in situ until 5 April, which at least provides three weeks to see the work.

I'm not familiar with Asylum, and the publicity suggests that visiting the show is by appointment - which may be a sign of the times, perhaps.  Anyway, it's probably worth a scan of the their website (here), or perhaps a phone call, before setting out.  I notice Shaun's also running a 'Wine and Painting Workshop' on 30 March.  That sounds like an admirable combination to me, particularly as there's not much Shaun doesn't know about pushing the gooey stuff around - with wine, or otherwise.

Sadly, I can't even show you any of Shaun's most recent paintings, as he's obviously keeping them under wraps a bit - at least until they've had a proper outing in real time and space.  However, I'm assured he's been pretty busy of late, and that the new stuff isn't too far removed (in subject matter at least) from the paintings he showed, when we exhibited together in Nottingham, last year.  As I understand it, some of those older ones will gain repeat exposure this time round too.  You can get a pretty good impression of what Shaun and his work are about on his own site (here), or his Blog (here), and he tells me he also has a healthy Instagram presence now; although being totally dim as to the workings of 'Insta' (as I hear the kids calling it) - I'll have to take his word for that.  For some reason, I can hardly find the enthusiasm to maintain even my existing low levels of social media participation of late, and I suspect this whole Internet thing is just a fad, really.

Hopefully that gives enough clues to at least follow the trail.  As ever, and particularly with work like Shaun's - there really is no substitute for looking at the real thing.  You know what to do... 


'Quiet Signs: Recent Paintings By Shaun Morris' opens on Friday 15 March, and runs until Friday 5 April, at Asylum Gallery, 21 Clifton Street, Wolverhampton, WV3 0TZ

Completed Painting: 'Untitled (From The New School) 12'

'Untitled (From The New School) 12', Acrylics, Adhesive Tape, Ink & French Polish
On Panel, 30 cm X 30 cm X 10.6 cm, 2017

One of the advantages of my current to-and-fro creative process, is that individual works seem to emerge, almost by surprise.  Such is the case with this - the latest in my 'From The New School' series of paintings.

A lack of overall focus shouldn't really be a recipe for successfully resolved work, but it actually seems to have suited me quite well over recent months.  On reflection, '12' might not be exactly my favourite of the 'FTNS' series, to date - but it does feel reasonably well sorted out, and also pushes the ever-evolving series in yet another direction.

Whilst geometric formality within a standard format is the cornerstone of these paintings, this is one of the looser, grungier members of the family, and is wholly constructed from roughly-painted 'gumstrip' adhesive tape

'Flagging 7', Acrylics, Paper Collage, Adhesive Tape, Ink, Spray Enamel & French Polish
On Paper, 45 cm X 60 cm

The seeds of that particular approach lie in 'Flagging 7', from 2017, which is part of another series under the 'This S(c)eptic Isle' banner.  As with that flag-based image, there is, I think - a sense of something lashed together, or even bandaged.  If each of these 'FTNS' panels is intended to invite a new idea about, or interpretation of institutionalised education - I'll leave the viewer to decide what that might in turn imply.

The work on this particular piece was mostly done during lunch breaks, and after hours, 'on the premises', and at least one colleague claims to see the suggestion of a crucifix in it.  She's not religious (to my knowledge), and I'm certainly not - but it does lead me to question whether it's actually possible to employ any kind of cruciform motif, without someone freighting it with unintentional symbolism.

It's not the first time that's happened to me; which in turn makes me wonder if it might not itself trigger another body of investigative imagery, one day...

The Bin Commandments 2

West Leicester, February 2019

Hardly topical - but I think it counts, nonetheless.  In the interests of full disclosure - I should reveal that this one's actually my own, although painted back in the day, by my home's previous occupant.  Stupidly, it was only after capturing the first 'Bin Commandment' that I remembered I had one waiting in my very own back yard.  

I should really have cleaned the text off years ago, but have always found it a quaint example of period resistance.  I guess it's also testimony to the durability of modern paints - even if the Tax has long since disappeared, in every sense.

Just Sink Into A Nice Comfy Chair

Both Images: West Leicester, February 2019

Sometimes, you're working away, but in a slightly haphazard manner, and without much serious impetus or intent; so you take the camera out for a walk, in glorious (almost worryingly unseasonable) sunlight, and without any particular agenda - and the world just gives you a gift...

The Bin Commandments 1

West Leicester, February 2019

I've been cataloguing refuse bins for a while now.  In many respects, they seem to play a similar role to abandoned fridges, as sentinels of my local landscape.  However, the focus is more on the textual content, than the carrier (or indeed, the actual contents).

In a neighbourhood of tightly-packed, often multi-occupancy, terraced housing, the territoriality and etiquette of wheelie bin use is a matter of some importance - and potential trigger of social tension, on occasion.  And, quite obviously, as a motif - the bins also stimulate a meditation on our disposable, consumer economy, and current attitudes to the provision of public services.  As ever, though, the unofficial will always subvert the official; and observed reality will always short circuit any trite theory I might have formulated about the work I'm doing.  I honestly wouldn't have it any other way.  

I wonder if these will become another little blog series?  We'll see...

Working Methods: 'This S(c)eptic Isle: Childish Things 5'

All Images: 'Childish Things 5' (Work In Progress), Salvaged Trundle Toy & Spray Enamel

To be honest, I hadn't necessarily intended to make any more of these 'Childish Things', toy sculptures.  On purely practical level, they're pretty bulky to store, and the house is already pretty congested with the existing four (amongst a lot of other stuff).  In addition, whilst I've always felt generally positive about the 'Childish Things' pieces - they were, actually, the least commented upon element of my work, when exhibited, last year.

Nevertheless, when this little beauty was abandoned, practically on my doorstep - it just felt too much of a gift to ignore.  Of course one thing leads to another, and what would be the point of collecting such stuff - if not to use it constructively?  It's perhaps typical of my current, slightly unfocussed approach to my work, just now - that this one has reached its current state without excess urgency, and whilst working on other unrelated things. That in itself is quite pleasing - as the fettling and finishing of the toys themselves has always been the most labour intensive part of the 'Childish Things'.  The trike, as I found it, was actually even more complete than you see it here - allowing plenty of scope for some creative surgery, prior to the normally tedious prepping, priming and inevitable addressing of drips in my ham-fisted spray-job.

Another hunch was that the initial Brexity vibe of the 'TSI' project might be limiting its currency by now.  Would that were the case.  Even whilst working on the first flush of associated pieces - my instinct was to expand the scope of the project into a more open-ended 'how we live now' kind of enterprise wherever possible.  Two years ago, who could have honestly predicted that my fears of becoming tripped up by a narrow single issue might be so unfounded - or that the particular issue in question would consume the national debate in quite such a dispiriting manner.

If, as now seems inevitable, the ramifications of our current political crisis continue to ripple outwards for the foreseeable future - then adding to the existing 'TSI' work may not feel  quite so irrelevant after all.  There was always more that could have been done, and there is clearly still no shortage of raw material, or indeed national absurdity, to fuel it all.  And, if there is going to be more, I guess I should be looking for further opportunities to exhibit it all again, in the not too distant - assuming anyone can still afford to keep a gallery space open after March, of course...