I have been one acquainted with the night. / I have walked out in rain — and back in rain. / I have outwalked the furthest city light.
I have looked down the saddest city lane. / I have passed by the watchman on his beat / and dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.
I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet / when far away an interrupted cry / came over houses from another street, / but not to call me back or say goodbye; / And further still at an unearthly height / one luminary clock against the sky / proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.
A relaxed Friday in here. Today I don’t have much time so I’m only uploading another short selection of tunes fitting the bipolar weather in my city these past days; sunny and green on daylight, damp and cloudy on moonlight. The 5 songs are supposed to fit in between these two landscapes, on one side, the sunny motown-esque pop/funk of ESG and Breakout‘s amazing reinterpretation of Afrika Bambaataa’s hip hop classic and on the somber side of the spectre comes the electronic tingled jazz of Roam the hello clouds and Dj Shadow‘s trademark blend of moody jazz, funk & hip hop samples. In the middle of the playlist I included a song from Guru‘s Jazzmatazz project in an attempt to provide a common ground between the first set of tracks and the second ones, don’t know if it actually works, will try to sneak & drop some tonight at my brother’s birthday and use them guests as guinea pigs for future playlists. Have a good weekend everyone.
Mt Macedon Cemetery in Victoria, Australia is home to Peter Schipperheyn’s dramatic sculpture “Asleep”. It is one of the most intriguing and beautiful contemporary works of art I’ve come across in recent years. The beautiful contradiction between the young women’s vulnerability and the unsettling surroundings of the cemetery. The way her right hand lovingly grips the edge of the tombstone. It simply takes my breath away every time I look at it. The story goes that the artist was commissioned by a woman to make this sculpture and to place it on top of the grave of her late husband, Laurence. To me the sculpture is the perfect embodiment of one’s deepest emotions after the passing away of a loved one; to be there with them, to desperately hold on and to never let go.
Following this series’ previous entry Late Night Lullabies, this post continuous where we left off and heads into the darkest hours of night. I’ve tried to find the connection between this theme and the romantic and mystical undertone of the sculpture. The grace of her vulnerable sleeping body, the silent cemetery surroundings and the deep sorrow of losing a loved one. They became synonyms for the night’s serene, dreamy and tender ambiance.
Hearing jazz while doing breakfast. Cream cheese & bread. Or milk & those yellow box cheerios, but I’m not precisely fond of the milk’s flavor anymore… and I don’t think there’s any of those Cheerios left either way. Maybe f I have time, I could have some fruit too. Definitely no time for melon or pineapples. Mango? only one left and rotten already. Forget the fruit then. Jazz. The fascination for leisure and the bitter blow of the oars. Jazz as a syncopated buzzing of the arteries. As opulence. As rust. Jazz as prognosis or as a death rattle. The ecstasy before the collapse.
In its attempt to create a right to sue for “making available”, the RIAA has argued, at the oral argument in Elektra v. Barker, and more recently in its opposition brief in Warner v. Cassin, that the term “to authorize” in the preamble language of 17 USC 106 means that merely “authorizing” something is tantamount to “infringement”. This argument was recently repudiated by the United States Court of Appeals for the First Circuit, in Latin American Music Co. v. Archdiocese of San Juan. - Recording Industry vs The People.
note: Okay, too many impressionistic posts, so here is an obvious and practical list. The relationship between music, IP ownership, international trade, and ultimately relationship between people. I always thought blog could be more than just “la la la” we bop our head today. It should be Something that bop hard, rock the boat and better world through more information. … maybe. In the list: Chomsky and Alternative Tentacles. Enjoy. PS. watch the video of famous TV argument.
With this list we come to the end of this series. A series that travelled from the heavy artillery of psychedelic freak-outs all the way to the serene bliss of dark and tranquil drones and ambient. This final 60+ minute playlist is like reaching our final destination in space. A peaceful place that glows with ecstasy and breathes an almost religious serene ambience. This couldn’t have been better portrayed than by Rhys Chatham’s incredible “A Crimson Grail”. A highly emotional recording which was made in the Sacre Coeur in Paris with 400 electric guitars, together creating a massive spectral wave of resonating beauty. Only the latter part of the 29 minute track by Troum seems to be able to threaten the almost sacred ambience of the list. But soon afterwards Machinefabriek treats us with a heart-wrenching piece of droning ambient. Probably one of the most powerful pieces of his catalogue so far.
With wonderful deathless ditties
We build up the world's great cities,
And out of a fabulous story
We fashion an empire's glory:
One man with a dream, at pleasure,
Shall go forth and conquer a crown;
And three with a new song's measure
Can trample an empire down. 
Down, down, down. Would the fall never come to an end! `I wonder how many miles I've fallen by this time?' she said aloud. `I must be getting somewhere near the centre of the earth. Let me see: that would be four thousand miles down, I think--' (for, you see, Alice had learnt several things of this sort in her lessons in the schoolroom, and though this was not a very good opportunity for showing off her knowledge, as there was no one to listen to her, still it was good practice to say it over) `--yes, that's about the right distance--but then I wonder what Latitude or Longitude I've got to?' (Alice had no idea what Latitude was, or Longitude either, but thought they were nice grand words to say.) 
O long-silent Sybil,
you of the winged dreams,
Speak out from your temple of light
as the serious constellations
with Greek names
still stare down on us
as a lighthouse moves its megaphone
over the sea
Speak out and shine upon us
the sea-light of Greece
the diamond light of Greece
Far-seeing Sybil, forever hidden,
Come out of your cave at last
And speak to us in the poet's voice
the voice of the fourth person singular
the voice of the inscrutable future
the voice of the people mixed
with a wild soft laughter--
And give us new dreams to dream,
Give us new myths to live by! 
So our princes who have lost their principalities after many years’ of possession shouldn’t blame their loss on fortuna. The real culprit is their own indolence, going through quiet times with no thought of the possibility of change (it’s a common human fault, failing to prepare for tempests unless one is actually in one!). And when eventually bad times did come, they thought of •flight rather than •self-defence, hoping that the people, upset by conquerors’ insolence, would recall them. This course of action may be all right when there’s no alternative, but it is not all right to neglect alternatives and choose this one; it amounts to voluntarily falling because you think that in due course someone will pick you up. If you do get rescued (and you probably won’t), that won’t make you secure; the only rescue that is really helpful to you is the one performed by you, the one that depends on yourself and your virtù.