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WRECK: French Non-Franceness

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  • ninplant@xs4all.nl
    wReck thiS meSS ~ Radio Patapoe 97.2 ~ Amsterdam Ethno-Illogical Psycho-Radiographies: no. 235: French & Allied Subversions Maandag, 13 Oktober 2003 (17.00 to
    Message 1 of 1 , Jan 8, 2004
      wReck thiS meSS ~ Radio Patapoe 97.2 ~ Amsterdam

      Ethno-Illogical Psycho-Radiographies: no. 235: French & Allied Subversions
      Maandag, 13 Oktober 2003 (17.00 to 19.00)
      SIMUL-streaming <http://freeteam.nl/patapoe/>


      Lavatronic.X > Norscq vs Tempsion [1]
      Crack Circus > Rekhmire [2]
      Onzeocho > Von Magnet [3]
      Un Simple Histoire > Loulou vs Thievery Corporation [4]
      Tout Autour > Laurent Pernice [5]
      Asymétries 2 > Hans Koch vs Bertrand Denzler [6]
      + Paris Sounds of 1987 > b/art [7]
      Asymétries 3 > Hans Koch vs Bertrand Denzler [6]
      Trafic > Zzouf vs Jacques Tati [8]
      Room Places XI [exc] > Michael Schumacher [9]
      + Doucement, le Grain de Sa Peau > Sylvain Chauveau [10]
      L'Été Indien > Joe Dassin [11]
      Room Places XI [exc] > Michael Schumacher [9]
      + Le Gars de Rochechouart > Herman van Oterloo [12]
      Gong-Billes > L'Atelier Gran Delire [13]
      Sous le Ciel de Paris > Edith Piaf [14]
      Belleville > Django Reinhardt [15]
      Et Nox Facta Est > Apophasis [3]
      Wet Paris High Heels and Dog Shit > The Agriculture [16]
      Cherry Pie > We Are Gentlemen [3]
      Paris Canaille > Catherine Sauvage [17]
      Heureux le Marin Qui Nage > Julien Clerc [18]
      Voices From the Wilderness > Mad Professor vs Edith Piaf [19]
      Some Velvet Morning > Slowdive
      Some Velvet Morning > Nancy Sinatra & Lee Hazelwood
      La Nuit Octobre > Serge Gainsbourg [20]
      Ciné Surprise > André Popp [21]
      Docked > L'Atelier Gran Delire [13]

      [1] "Lavatron.X" on Shambala <www.multimania.com/shambala>. A wide
      array of producer-musicians rewiring several cuts from Norscq's
      "Lavatronix" CD. People like John Duncan, Foetus, DJ Grasshoppa,
      Jeffrey Lembeye, Jack Dangers, and Black Sifichi offering a broad
      spectrum of reworkings from sampled echoes of the electronic work
      that was influenced by a hard-edged industrial ambient sound that
      emerged in the late 80s.

      [2] "The Deviant Lounge" on Land <www.phantomproduction.com>. the
      outpost lounge along the spiritual Maginot Line between what we
      imagine and what we perceive.

      [3] "QFG: A Compilation" on Parametric <www.parametric.info> Batting
      at the rain of static with a splintery cudgel. A collection of
      glitch'n'click, turbulent drones, and white noise going gray and
      drizzly. Perfect for a headphone woe-is-me Sunday, bare trees, ugly
      refrozen ice, January dark afternoon walk around your city. Empty
      store fronts, abandoned restaurants, empty warehouses, the smell of
      dust with the first drops of freezing rain.

      [4] "Euro Lounge" Putumayo <www.putumayo.com>. Variety of lounge and
      exotica-based dance.

      [5] "Infrajazz" on Land <www.conapt-sounds.com> on this excellent
      French label we get to hear some very adventurous sounds and this is
      no exception. This is perniciously lovely ambient electro-jazz strung
      tight and visceral. From the ex-percussionist of the industrial
      pioneers Nox.

      [6] "Asymétries" on Dame <www.actuellecd.com> Breathing through brass
      instruments that sometimes sounds like calls to attract deep Arctic
      Sea dwellers.

      [7] "Sounds of Traveling Through Europe" on B/art. The old tapes I
      have of travels without a camera evoke memories every bit as vivid as
      photo albums.

      [8] "Cinemix" on Editions Sido / Universal. Hip and contentious
      reuses of forgotten French soundtracks. Here Tati becomes almost
      unrecognizable for better or worse.

      [9] "Room Pieces" on XI <www.xirecords.org> the soundtrack of
      raindrops sliding down a dingy Lower Manhattan window from chemically
      altered drop to drop with a certain hypnotic randomness that begins
      to behave like patterns. The window is bolted shut so there no chance
      to wipe it clean and there is lots of time for Schumacher to duet
      with an enclosed space.

      [10] "Nocturne Impalpable" on Les Disques du Soleil et l'Acier
      <dsa@...>. Painfully plaintive and beautiful compositions
      situated somewhere between Satie and Durutti Column.

      [11] "Viva la France!" on Circle vinyl. Most of the great singers
      from the 50s and 60s. I seem to remember that nocturnal nuit boire
      mate, Judy Lopatin, many many years ago, wrote a great story that was
      included in her "Modern Romances" collection of short stories. Did we
      really blackmail one another by threatening to put each other in our
      own stories? Whose portrait of the other would be more acerbic,
      pitiful, viciousŠ?

      [12] "The French Collection" on Polydor vinyl. The portrait of Van
      Otterloo on the back shows him standing on a stairway on the same
      street I used to live on in Paris. Romantic easy listening ambiences
      and soundtrack music to films never made.

      [13] "L'Atelier Gran Delire Presents Epave de Pwaasson" on Grandelire
      <Grandelire@...> <system.c.industries@...>. Great
      robust Anglo-Franco Atlantic coast indie folk post-rock with extra
      delirium supplied by the Amero-Franco Jasmine, who reminds me a bit
      of Ann Magnuson with a soft axe to grind.

      [14] "The Edith Piaf Story" on EMI vinyl. Delivered by 2 cops [flics]
      on a grizzly December day in 1915 on a Paris street, Piaf embodied
      the old Romantic era notion that all art comes through sad, eventful
      and mournful suffering. She grew up with a circus acrobat father who
      compelled her to sing in a circus tent when she was not even a
      pre-teen. She escapes to Paris where a cabaret owner discovers her
      singing on the Paris streets. She died on a rainy day in October 1963
      after many years of narcotic addiction. If her and Billy Holiday were
      ever to be found on the same bill there would have been mass suicides
      no doubt.

      [15] "Les Meilleurs: Django Reinhardt" on Disky. Along with Piaf,
      Marcel Azzola and Gainsbourg, he helped define a kind of emblemmatic
      Paris sound to accompany the black & white films and photos that
      continue to define Paris more so than any other city in the world.

      [16] "Once 11 versus the Pyramid" on 11th World Platforms. Brilliant
      electronic interference dub. Dub stretched to new galaxies full of
      detractions, intrusions, sidelines, drifting asteroids, outsourced
      sound sculptors and nonrenewable resources. Excellent.

      [17] "Une Nuit de Cabaret à Paris" on Philips vinyl. Includes Brel,
      Mouloudji, Patachou, Juliette Greco, among others. Sauvage singing
      Ferré: "Paris j'ai bu à la voix grise, le long des rues tu vocalises,
      y' apas d'espoir dans tes haillonsŠ"

      [18] "Voici Julien Clerc" on Pathé vinyl. Played in the French
      version of "Hair" and became a long-haired youth idol who has made a
      career out of being critical of French politics and society.

      [19] "Dub Me Crazy Part 10" on Ariwa. Great sampling use of Piaf's
      forlorn cries mixed into a dubby post-Martin-Denny soundscape.

      [20] "Serge Gainsbourg avec Alain Gorguer" on Philips. Excellent
      rereleases of early Serge material with original artwork, cover, etc.

      [21] The sound of Popp makes you think of parties in the Quartier
      Latin, c. 1960s with lots of bad jokes, crazy hats, pop corn, cheap
      drinks, sing-along to the Scopatone.


      * Headroom, Veemvloer & Nieuwe Vide present:
      The State Of Musik: a new night of excovermental Sound & Image
      avant [hip-hop,idm,elektro,tech,mnml,drones,noise]

      Friday January 16, De Veemvloer, Amsterdam
      Van Diemenstraat 410 (take bus 48 from CS to houtmankade
      or walking: turn left at Oude GraanSilo from CS)
      6 euros
      21.00 - 02.00
      all info including directions: http://www.headroom.nl

      o Again, trying to catch up with my playlists after huge slack /
      stress end of 2003 period.

      o PaRiS SeX TêTe: A novel in Trouble in Paris [an excerpt]

      On Jacques Chirac's birthday I leaped out of bed to witness a natty
      maquereau (literally mackerel, slang for pimp) kicking the lanky
      pancake-make-up travesti in the gut. She had a temper and a mouth.
      She had yet to be busted, this bronco, this Margaux Hemingway made of
      brick - and brac. And now she's p(b)leeding for mercy (what IS that
      thing when you've gone too far out on a limb, when you dress like
      something else and suddenly decide you're going to start retrieving
      the self you killed off long ago) as he kicks her in the head and
      back and twists her arm to the outer rim of the shoulder socket. I
      learn a new word: to twist is tortiller; every tragedy a potential
      opportunity. Shoves her head into the hood of a parked car. I can
      feel her head hit thud for thud. The echo resounding from here to
      far. She's not going to do him much good with a bashed in face.
      Although with perversity going the way of other trends in niche
      marketing and target consumerism I could picture a certain profile of
      human predator going in for the bashed-in-face look.

      You're standing in front of a drummer - to feel the drumbeat begin to
      regulate your heartbeat. And then - silence, a suspicious quiet. The
      quiet which reminds you of mortality, human fragility, of
      disposibility, of the possibility that this is being filmed to become
      the first of a new series of fetish videos. There will be no charges
      because the illegal have no legal recourse. And then you are relieved
      to hear her gather what remains of herself, howling and bleeding,
      stumbling into the early swells of rush hour traffic; through the
      accomodating districts of my dreams. Leaving the angry pimp,
      bellicose, triumphant and shrinking, in the middle of the rue
      yelling; "QUI SAIS! QUI SAIS!" (Who knows? Who knows?) I watch him
      lift his foot onto the fender of a car. I watch him bend over to wipe
      the blood and other bodily fluids off his vermin-skin boots. In
      Pigalle the entrepreneurs du chair (sellers of flesh) - some looking
      like battered pugilists with pancake batter hiding blackeyes -
      protect themselves from the other girls and their men, their
      maquereaux, mackerels who will syphon off most of the profits, keep
      her indentured to his expensive habits. He will go home in his Peugot
      and bring his daughter the doll she wanted (the one you pull her
      string and she wets herself, the one that says "Papa, j'observais le
      plan et l'effet de mon cul") and offer his wife a smiling kiss on the
      forehead. And I suddenly sense myself standing there framed by the
      window frozen like a portrait being painted by someone from some
      other time. In my dream I offer her ice, a chair to sit on. I touch
      her shoulder blade and feel her high idle, the idle of a motor out of
      tune, the idle of someone jump started and afraid to sleep lest she
      will die.

      I open the shutters; there's the squeak of metal on metal. I can make
      that noise in my sleep to this day. It is raining and as I look
      outside a man and a woman hunched over and negotiating the puddles
      suddenly look up at me at the same instant. Their heads synchronized
      and stuck at the same angle looking up at me - a large red and black
      sprawl of grafitti on the cement wall backdrop: TON TON BLACK FBI - I
      look back down at them. That is all. I write it down. It is now worth
      more and less. I think I will have tabouli for dinner. The
      preparation, even though minimal will conveniently prevent me from
      being despised by the anxiety I feel when I think I would like to
      call Zizi on the phone. I have dialed her number but then breath
      gobbles my words, I write down thoughts, a line: "Tu me prend la
      bouche de mes rêves." You steal the breath of my dreams. Would she
      understand? I write another line down I might use on Zizi: "I got
      woman troubles and it's spelled 'T-U' as in 'you'." I dial again; I
      can feel myself begin to hyperventilate and on the second ring I hang
      up the phone.

      I listened to the tape of sex acts with Sophie I had surreptitiously
      recorded while we were wandering through Spain and Morocco. It is a
      series of 12 sexual acts of different natures, different breathing
      patterns edited for one tape. She does not know this tape, or for
      that matter, the masters, exist. The tape traveled from her parents
      place in the banlieu to Southern France to the Costa del Sol where we
      did it in the dunes near our tent and you can hear her sighs - listen
      - my groans and the wind lifting sand, hitting the microphone. Then
      to Tetuan and Fez, in Morrocco, the tinny calls to prayer from our
      open window in our 2nd floor room of the Pension Fez. I watch and
      narrate a woman hanging bright clothes, her aimless, tuneless humming
      caught on tape from across the passageway as Sophie sucks me off,
      sighs emerging from her nostrils, having already developed on her own
      an uncanny circular breathing pattern perfected by jazz saxophonists
      in the 50s. I watch the men deep in conversation head toward the
      medina. I describe what I see as I compliment Sophie's sucking which
      only makes her more intrepid and her nails break the skin on my
      buttocks as I come I fart, she squeals and I can hear myself say:
      "Got a noisy heart / had too many beers / and now I'm gonna fart." I
      listen and the listening takes me further away to where snapshots
      don't go. Sometimes, while listening, I get hard and masturbate,
      other times I get sad and warm tears blur my vision - why is her
      little-girl-sucking-on-hard-candy earnestness something that is made
      to be taken advantage of? I hide the tape but I'm not sure from whom
      or why.


      o An excellent source for French literature in English is TamTam
      Books <http://www.tamtambooks.com> located in California. Contact
      Tosh at <tosh3@...> or order the growing list of French
      TamTam lit via Book Soup <http://www.booksoup.com/> or Amazon.com or
      SPD: <http://www.pub24x7.com/scripts/rgw.dll/rblive/BOOKS:ORDERHOME>.

      Titles thus far:
      Boris Vian's "I Spit on Your Graves"
      Boris Vian's "Foam of the Daze"
      Guy Debord's "Considerations on the Assassination of Gerard Lebovici"
      Serge Gainsbourg's "Evguenie Sokolov" [foreword by yours truly].
      Great novella about fart art!


      Send all sound material for airplay and review to:
      Wreck This MeSS
      Radio 100 / Radio Patapoe
      bart plantenga
      Zeilstraat 23 / II
      1075 SB Amsterdam
      the Netherlands

      o "plus another few hundred when it hits the BSI list!" Ezra
      o Old playlists archived at <http://www.wfmu.org/~bart/>
      o Recent selected Playlists [early stages] at
      o Special playlists can be found at 3am Magazine
      <http://www.3ammagazine.com> under the title "Radiophotogram: Visual
      Radio". Plus my interview with Judy Nylon and an excerpt from PARIS


      CONTACT ninplant@... FOR REMOVAL

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