No revelations, only reminders.


Counscious Will

Untitled (1986) - Paula Rêgo ( 1935 )

Conscious Will

stroll out of this
with body intact, will
struggle through
bear holds
and foot-soldier
trapped doors, will
unfold consciousness
from palmed
unopened wonder, will
continue even if body is over

Troy Suben
September 2015

Photo licensed CC-BY-2.0 from Flickr user Pedro Ribeiro Simões, retrieved October 3, 2015

Hussin Moheb

Hussein Moheb is a Yemeni musician and an impressive oud player and singer.  The beats on the album I have are infectious and many of the songs feature syncopated percussion, oud, and call and response style vocal parts.  He has a fun playing style.  I don’t know the title of the album or any track names besides “Ya Rubb”.

I haven’t found much information on him online — at least, not through English-language search engines.  If you have a link to his website or more info send me a message.

Etherclock – Ozric Tentacles

For me the highlight from 2006’s album The Floor’s Too Far Away is “Etherclock”, which opens trickily in 13/8 and includes syncopated, layered counterpoint and time signature shifts throughout.  The opening melody is played by an almost-indistinguishable doubling of synths and heavily processed guitar.  The drums are a little flat but the rhythmic complexity, unique melodic ideas, and driving dub section toward the end make for an interesting listen.


Check it out:

Within the Circuit of this Plodding Life

Within the Circuit of This Plodding Life

Within the circuit of this plodding life
There enter moments of an azure hue,
Untarnished fair as is the violet
Or anemone, when the spring strews them
By some meandering rivulet, which make
The best philosophy untrue that aims
But to console man for his grievances
I have remembered when the winter came,
High in my chamber in the frosty nights,
When in the still light of the cheerful moon,
On every twig and rail and jutting spout,
The icy spears were adding to their length
Against the arrows of the coming sun,
How in the shimmering noon of summer past
Some unrecorded beam slanted across
The upland pastures where the Johnswort grew;
Or heard, amid the verdure of my mind,
The bee’s long smothered hum, on the blue flag
Loitering amidst the mead; or busy rill,
Which now through all its course stands still and dumb
Its own memorial,—purling at its play
Along the slopes, and through the meadows next,
Until its youthful sound was hushed at last
In the staid current of the lowland stream;
Or seen the furrows shine but late upturned,
And where the fieldfare followed in the rear,
When all the fields around lay bound and hoar
Beneath a thick integument of snow.
So by God’s cheap economy made rich
To go upon my winter’s task again.

Henry David Thoreau