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-- [REVIEW] Unsound Festival Opening Night
[REVIEW] Unsound Festival Opening Night
A pretentious review
http://crepitate.wordpress.com/
Kill in me this constant, with your lines, hallways, cultural agents� magnificent only in appearance clean ordered expectant for nothing but the moment caught with hand in hand, a person whose name, so long gone now. Smile a fake turned up corner and break the broad hour against your back, twigs rattle shape. I peel in order to change the instance.
Lined up in this hallway, rammed clean in this hallway, music for the last decade in this hallway. Old, brittle, the clicks and pops discovered in dark beer-soaked places. I try to wrap my head around the current paradigm and get lost in the new. Swivel with the world. Scan the horizon. Wait for the stars to shift, these light years of time catching up, the universe was young. Repetition of the strokes once fresh, now tedious, again someday fresh but for now the brain cries out from chafed stimulation. And in this place there isn�t a chance. Stiff bodies sit erect gaze at what to them is not the alteration of sounds steeped in moments, clear breath. I watch ripples ripples ripples eruptions it means nothing has no color raises no questions. A beer spills. A beer Spills. It�s exciting that a beer spills. Where am I when these catapulted incidents are life. I find myself wanting to hear the movement of skin against strings the spit through a valve, breath, eyes that open and close, a face reacting to the world. A beer smells when it hits the ground. I can feel teeth on my lips.
UNSOUND FESTIVAL NEW YORK
THURSDAY FEBRUARY 4th - FRIDAY FEBRUARY 14th
After seven years in its native Krak�w, Poland, Unsound Festival comes to New York for its USA debut. Stationing itself across several venues throughout Manhattan and Brooklyn, this bold, uniquely modern ten-day program of music will take in everything from classical music to post-rock, electronica to noise and beyond.
Eastern Promise a cornerstone of the festival will expose a broad range of artists from Poland, Romania, Ukraine and Belarus. The Unsound Warhol series features film events dedicated to and inspired by Andy Warhol. Additionally the festival includes a kids-only workshop in electronic music, two "Silence & Noise" nights devoted to post-rock, noise and drone, a Brooklyn electronic music showcase, two "Bunker" nights featuring the very best in contemporary techno / house and a special Bass Mutations showcase dedicated to dubstep & its variations. Both Festival weekends will also include panels and workshops.
http://www.backspinpromo.com/unsound.html
Re: [REVIEW] Unsound Festival Opening Night
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| Originally posted by CatSquash A pretentious review http://crepitate.wordpress.com/ Kill in me this constant, with your lines, hallways, cultural agents� magnificent only in appearance clean ordered expectant for nothing but the moment caught with hand in hand, a person whose name, so long gone now. Smile a fake turned up corner and break the broad hour against your back, twigs rattle shape. I peel in order to change the instance. Lined up in this hallway, rammed clean in this hallway, music for the last decade in this hallway. Old, brittle, the clicks and pops discovered in dark beer-soaked places. I try to wrap my head around the current paradigm and get lost in the new. Swivel with the world. Scan the horizon. Wait for the stars to shift, these light years of time catching up, the universe was young. Repetition of the strokes once fresh, now tedious, again someday fresh but for now the brain cries out from chafed stimulation. And in this place there isn�t a chance. Stiff bodies sit erect gaze at what to them is not the alteration of sounds steeped in moments, clear breath. I watch ripples ripples ripples eruptions it means nothing has no color raises no questions. A beer spills. A beer Spills. It�s exciting that a beer spills. Where am I when these catapulted incidents are life. I find myself wanting to hear the movement of skin against strings the spit through a valve, breath, eyes that open and close, a face reacting to the world. A beer smells when it hits the ground. I can feel teeth on my lips. |
Re: Re: [REVIEW] Unsound Festival Opening Night
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| Originally posted by Chaska Who writes like this for a review? LOL. |
Re: [REVIEW] Unsound Festival Opening Night
| quote: |
| Originally posted by CatSquash A pretentious review http://crepitate.wordpress.com/ Kill in me this constant, with your lines, hallways, cultural agents� magnificent only in appearance clean ordered expectant for nothing but the moment caught with hand in hand, a person whose name, so long gone now. Smile a fake turned up corner and break the broad hour against your back, twigs rattle shape. I peel in order to change the instance. Lined up in this hallway, rammed clean in this hallway, music for the last decade in this hallway. Old, brittle, the clicks and pops discovered in dark beer-soaked places. I try to wrap my head around the current paradigm and get lost in the new. Swivel with the world. Scan the horizon. Wa it for the stars to shift, these light years of time catching up, the universe was young. Repetition of the strokes once fresh, now tedious, again someday fresh but for now the brain cries out from chafed stimulation. And in this place there isn�t a chance. Stiff bodies sit erect gaze at what to them is not the alteration of sounds steeped in moments, clear breath. I watch ripples ripples ripples eruptions it means nothing has no color raises no questions. A beer spills. A beer Spills. It�s exciting that a beer spills. Where am I when these catapulted incidents are life. I find myself wanting to hear the movement of skin against strings the spit through a valve, breath, eyes that open and close, a face reacting to the world. A beer smells when it hits the ground. I can feel teeth on my lips. |
I would have thought it was colibri's alt but he put spaces between his words 
So does anyone know how it really was?
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| Originally posted by Neonbeats So does anyone know how it really was? |
| quote: |
| Originally posted by euphoria I know a few people went but they no longer post on TA :/ |
i was ther last fr... nice m techno the bunker is a neat spot in williamsburg
(;
Re: i was ther last fr... nice m techno the bunker is a neat spot in williamsburg
| quote: |
| Originally posted by colibri (; |
Another, slightly less pretentious review
www.crepitate.wordpress.com
A critic is supposed to remain detached. Formulate an opinion through their own perception that attains an objective position on a performance, restaurant� today everything is reviewed. If you consume three pints of PBR and smoke your share of a joint that runs a slant on your perception.
Drunk and high I stood in the line. You can call me a light-weight if you like, 3 pints of PBR gets me plenty toasty. So I rattled something off about drugs, dunked in conversation about locale, told some stories about old Wisconsin adventures. The man in glasses behind me asked me if I was a drug dealer. �HAHA� I answered.
There was a pale dark haired woman with him. Confidentially, the young man leaned in and said, �Maybe I�ll get a blowjob.�
�HAHA,� I answered.
Maybe he would get a blowjob. She did appear to be salivating. It might even be a good one.
�I met her around the corner,� the gentleman said.
�HAHA�
On other subjects I was eloquent, waxing about drugs taken inner-worlds explored. And we swooped inside. The line moved.
The front room was well populated, the back room was well populated. The familiar sound of techno, the less familiar sounds of dubstep� oh that�s all grand. Music� music�. These people don�t know what to do.
�You got great moves!� a random woman yelled at me.
Drunk and high, more beer now, I yelled back, �Thanks!�
To the back room, crowded, but there�s no trouble in getting space. Scared, no one wants to have a beer spilled on them. My shoes became soaked through. Spilling it out for my homies. There were some tracks played. The music was good.
�Where are you going?�
�I�m going over there.�
�Don�t go over there, stay here.�
�See Yah!�
Ah well, there�s music, and some dancing. So incidental.
With a gymnasts body, I danced, taut, tight. She talked into my ear. I talked into her ear. Our breath close on skin. Minute after minute and still the same flirtation. I tried to kiss her and she turned her head. Why did I do that? Oh right� music, beer. Oh shit I spilled some more.
That�s the extent. There really isn�t more to be said. Time went by so quickly that I don�t remember much of anything. But the dancing and the women, and some odd characters.
Incidentally I got the pbr at a party in Bushwick. Great music. All played on manual instruments. Banjo, xylophone, lag guitar, tap shoes� what�s happening to me.
These reviews are lame.
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