October 31, 2015

Sure, I suppose I could have posted a picture of witches or pumpkins, but this pic I took next to my folks apartment complex during my recent visit, I think, captures all the right themes. October? Check. Cemetary? Check. Spooky gravestones and trees? Check. It’s hard to believe that the very leaves on those big beautiful trees have already probably come down, laying the groundwork not for October, but November, and that gray sullen period between fall and winter that I always used to love.

We typically haven’t done anything for Halloween, but this year, because my mom basically told me not to be a Scrooge, we’re actually going to put our outside light on and be ready to hand out Hershey bars and Kit Kats to any ghost and goblin willing to risk their way down to the end of our cul-de-sac. I’m not crazy about the idea, and neither is Tracey, so we’ve enlisted my sister-in-law Tammy to take care of the proceedings. Being a kid at heart (and a mother who’s seen all this before) she’s more than happy to take care of it.

If I had my drudges I’d simply put my wireless speakers out front and play Pink Floyd’s Careful With That Axe, Eugene – a song commenter Kirk Landau nails as a perfect example of early Pink Floyd music…

The early Pink Floyd songs such as this one, Saucerful of Secrets, and Interstellar Overdrive are their greatest. And also among the greatest musical compositions of the 20th century. Think of these songs as sonic painting (Syd Barrett, PF’s original prophet, was ultimately a painter after-all), or sound as sculpture and cinematography. Like, as if in a meditative trance, murky enigmatic visions are slowly revealed, scenes/portraits of vast cosmic phenomena, the cold abstraction of space, a lonely comet, barren planets… now on earth the strange origins of life and the secret dramas of human civilization… an esoteric ceremony of druids speaking in clandestine whispers, pharoahs entombed amidst the sands of time, stone ruins of fallen civilizations, the haunted ghost cries of the fallen on ancient battlefields, etc (anything you personally imagine). It accomplishes this through a sense of atmosphere and suspension of time into stream-of-consciousness. It doesn’t spell things out for you like most music, it encrypts them in ambiguous nuance. The open-form of it is more like classical symphony / chamber music or jazz improvisation (also ambient music before its time). The key to listening is deep-focus and not consciously thinking, but letting the music guide your wandering mind wherever it will go, you are just a witness.

…played in a loop over and over, but I don’t want to piss off my neighbors and frighten off the ghurkins to the point where they’re put on anti-depressants by their freaked-out parents. Instead, we’ll just head across the street and watch for trick or treaters while enjoying the pot of chili our neighbors John and Mary typically make to celebrate the night.

(Speaking of that song, BTW, my brother Mark and I absolutely loved it, and Mom thought it was one of the most awful things she’d ever listened to. Just listen to how the song turns, at around the 2:50 mark, from a kind of noodling, dream-like thing to something altogether sinister. The echoed vocal, mournful organ, throbbing bass and ominous percussion can’t prepare you for the screaming that turns it into a psychedelic bloody massacre filled with grungy guitar chords courtesy of original founder Syd Barrett’s recent replacement David Gilmour. The song’s a tour de force, perfect for Halloween.

Happy Halloween from all the Goodboys and Goodboys Nation blog!

Filed in: Uncategorized by The Great White Shank at 01:03 | Comments (0)
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