Break, blow and burn. Van’s incantation will take you up and out; this song amazes me over and over again.
Rave on John Donne, rave on thy Holy fool
Down through the weeks of ages
In the moss borne dark dank pools
Rave on, down through the industrial revolution
Empiricism, atomic and nuclear age
Rave on down through time and space down through the corridors
Rave on words on printed page
Rave on, you left us infinity
And well pressed pages torn to fade
Drive on with wild abandon
Uptempo, frenzied heels
The transition from summer heat to autumn cool. The light shifts and slants and when Scorpio approaches, regardless the hemisphere you reside in — well, the soul goes orange and crimson — a rich Tibetan red.
Critters rustle around slowly now. There’s lots of deer about, walking right in the middle of the road and then, once spotted, jumping to disappear into thick blackberry vines (I don’t know how the vicious thorns don’t tear their hides). Read more
It’s been the most perfect season on the island. Very Goldilocks and the Three Bears: Just the right temperature, light and mood. But my mind’s dissolving trying to wrap around the concept that summer is winding to a close.
But no prob. Music is timeless, so I’ll play this latest mix whenever I wanna feel like it’s that perfect zone right around mid-August — with the Sun hovering over my ascendant.
Like all of my cloudcasts they’re compiled to accompany creative work. Be that in the studio, the office, the garage or down in your mom’s basement if that’s where you’re living right now.
I’m prepping to leave for my annual meditation retreat in Hawai’i. The following mix is what I put together last week for the long flight. As usual the flow moves through several decades worth of material.
Tag this with ambient, electronic, nu-jazz, dance, dream pop, hindi mantras and finally strange attractor. Because, from segue to segue your guess becomes as good as mine to where it all goes.
Look for part 2 later next month. And yes, it will include some Bobbie Gentry!
Enjoy. And merry solstice shift.
I know, it’s been awhile, right?
Whenever I need to paint I start mixing music together (rather than paint). If only to lubricate the muse.
I have an art opening in less than two weeks and the mojo matrix first needs tweaking and seducing to welcome me with open arms. That might read like it’s a complex process, but really it’s fun. And sort of a ritual/tradition for me.
In art shows from my past, and even in the acknowledgments for my first book, I listed music playlists in the artist’s statement. It only seemed fair. Art begets art.
The title for this 51-minute Cosmix is lifted from Beck‘s song Motorcade, it seems fitting given the tenor of our times.
These toys are all lifeless
The armor’s worn off
The shadow of a shadow
Is the ghost of a bomb
In a desert alone
A helicopter searchlight
Is searching for no-one
We’re all pushing up the tin can mountain top
The smokestack clouds with glory attached