the carved word is one of the most complex expressions memory made manifest it’s something that straddles past and future without ever quite being present or rather it at first seems indifferent to the present there’s a tension of a most unfathomable nature the word desires to be understood to have meaning but you somehow feel that it’s not you yourself that the word is addressing it washes over you holding a dialogue with something arcane that’s maybe not mortal and you feel intrigued captured even you’re aware of a deeper existence maybe a temporary reassurance that indeed there is no beginning no end and all at once the outward appearance of meaning is transcended and you find yourself struggling to comprehend a deep and formidable mystery I’m dying you are dying second by second all is transient does it matter do I bother yes I do life is fantastic it never ends it only changes flesh to stone to flesh and round and round best keep walking
In the early Forties, Jimmie Tarantino was a small-time Hollywood hustler, a freelance writer for a tiny boxing magazine, Knockout. Jimmie had big ideas. He managed to ingratiate himself with the still up-and-coming Frank Sinatra, becoming a member of Sinatra’s group of hangers-on, known informally as “The Varsity,” a precursor to the infamous Rat Pack of the Fifties and Sixties.
Proximity to Sinatra gave Jimmie access to lots of Hollywood dirt. He pitched the idea of a gossip magazine to Sinatra and mobster Mickey Cohen, both of whom invested in the magazine. Thus “Hollywood Nite-Life” was born.
Soon, Jimmie’s greed got the better of him and he had to leave Hollywood for San Francisco, where he hooked up with gambler and crime boss Bones Remmer and continued with his nefarious schemes, shakedowns, and mischief.
A movie I made so I could demonstrate my narration skills. I’m actually not really happy with it, my voice, anyway, so I’ll be rerecording it pretty soon and then I’ll put the new improved version here. But it’s fun as is!
Blue, blue, electric blue That’s the colour of my room Where I will live Blue, blue Pale blinds drawn all day Nothing to read, nothing to say Blue, blue I will sit right down Waiting for the gift of sound and vision And I will sing Waiting for the gift of sound and vision Drifting into my solitude Over my head
Don’t you wonder sometimes ‘Bout sound and vision?
I discovered this remix of David’s “Sound and Vision” from his album, “Low.” I’ve been playing it all day long, thinking about him in Berlin, trying to get off cocaine, his addiction to which nearly killed him, broken, alone except for Iggy Pop, turning into a full-blown alcoholic. A book I read tells the story of him sitting at a table in a dark Berlin bar, drunk out of his mind, talking to himself or God or something n and asking for help, like a prayer.
Somewhere in there, he managed to write this song. He would not get sober for another fourteen years, but he died with twenty-five years clean and sober.
This was the opening song for “Low,” the first album he recorded while in Berlin. The person who remixed it decided to not use the last verse. I don’t know why.
I I just learned that one of my favorite PIXELS artists, Butow Romey, passed away recently, way too soon. I have not heard any details as of yet. This is a movie we collaborated on back in 2012. He did the music, the black-and-white footage, and the incredible editing. I supplied the color footage.
Here is an mp3 download for Isle Of Islay Revisited, which was the original fourth piece for “the seasons” album, until I discovered the guitar sample was not public domain. So I wrote “The Forever Spring” to replace it, which I love.
