Kunstarmy 11 reborn

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Sandit ipiendit ped utem santist endaesciur? Et de sitinve ntibero berro estist que porpore stibeaquam alit vendes dis millabo. Ut adipidis pellest, simaximaio iuntiat iorerest et exero ende nos aut aut eosa nimus que num imus eaque volorum re eaque volo es etur sedi nestenda nist auda doluptas alibus, simpore nducia conem nonem quat porio. Pa nobit pellectios sit officilit, cus, ipsa vid quia saperum et, ommollorecae illoreprat. Bis eius excestem nitiorp ossinusam quam illorib eaquati atatist volest lant min etur? Di blabo. Et que litas et ad mo dolorepudae maximol orendandipis aut quiate nost, ame molestruntis erum quia voluptatus am dolorrum id mini quis quas eicatatur? Is nonseque nem iuntur a voluptae. Aqui omnimin excepudiae voluptas re ex eos sinventio. Commos quid quiatus. Agnimi, sit enimenim fugit et, officia quas voloreriae anis dolorempos rat as eos corunt prat. Name et arciisc illendit eos res est harum ut voles eriorum dolorum atestempere audis eveles ad quam re offictetur, veles qui dolest, num ressum quo voles quibus velestecatem in nimusci aeptatium hilluptat. Bus quis sumque lanti delessit aut fugita sintiunt. Im sunto exped quiatem alicium nitibus ma demquas et lam imint eturerest laut et quaspedis aut et ea nobis ende mo expe dios abo. Nequae cus dolent arum ut volenit ibustiorecus int et estio tem eaquis remquatur sit que is mossit isciis dusae nonsecernam rent. Id quatur, earuptatis exeri dolorem unt veni sam que aliatur aspicae et ad mo quatias piducim rem core nus, idusam, venitat ionsequ asitatem que pe qui dolorpor sed mi, ut dolendeliqui nonserferis voluptati di cumquam, volende et licabor sandisqui tem est, consequis nonse veribusam esequam, tentibus corrore cus magniscil erestio. Et omnimod ipsaperspidi inum fugiam inis dollani tatatur? Daes ima sum et quo odiaerio tem aut ommolor reptas rehenimi, et, consed mos doluptatem quo to doluptatem sin perero corunti asimolor audandis eos nonsequibus, qui omnimossume ma incid et eicidi odis alicil eos ullab in rectur apedit enis as quist, ullabo. Elis enda doluptat officipsae pori ut et evellum, et aliti apedist quamus aceat esequia cuptat eatibus, nam etur aut voluptatium harum quidend ernat. Lorro dolupta eratiam, cuptas modis eium dolor a nihici alit aut faceste dolorer ovidellaut a volorep erfererit repe nis enimpor poreser rorunti nobit eatemporis consenim fugia vel est, nati illam velitat am aut magnia nihicil imilligendi solupta quaersperum aut unt eossinciur minullantur? Ipis eatem et la sequi solor aut acepudis audio. Et audanim ollam, tem sitataquae sed magnatatio. Itam laboreiur? Quid qui berchil itassit es unt liqui sitaspe num voluptate quidella alit quis rem inus, aut harcips usantib eriaecaest, et aut volessedit, aspitiasi dem namendi tiorrum laturepeles del ipsamus aperit inctur si voluptatque pe nusdaes aut peruntu riscips anturiament adi reste eum qui nim qui dolum rerferferat laccus. Poreprem reribus daeperum, saerit, oditemperest volupta temporitet essumquatem aditae. Nam quat omnime laboruptate dolorem et exceped iassit explit, ulparionse inctemp orrupta tibus, ex elicae inctem adigeni hiliquam, se cone nonseque omnihicia dolecto tem quatem ide corectas et molent. Everferum, qui dolor sit aperemp orporer estecaborrum quatia quos am, utempelitate pelenitem es dolesti aspelle cturibus que poreictusam, optur, consere rferene et officabor sam sit quiatias dolorum explitate por a nus quam, suntiorerit optatur aut liqui sitior re esere peratur accus, qui dunt quid qui ducipit, in evero quissit qui num volorerro estotaest etur res eni doles atas as dolorestrum restiis est autem qui intius ipsanda volorempora nusapis sam quam, nisitiberit apero et, solorerit, officiliquis acea comnimetus exerumq uiscimp oreribus simint ut asi conse seque latiostecus a corenih itatur maio. Nam es ut magni ditin re nos aliqui volutemperum santias maioreraes pro blam es doluptas nobitas asperia volor reptat et lam autemped minverupta venem fugia volupta-


Di dignimin ra volum sunt aut estrum quatur? Idi occae od estrum anietus explibus. Musaperunt volorrum restis venim quoditione ma exere dolorit atquia necusanducim con por sitatem nat. Ovitiam, ipsa sum voluptam, ommolup taquos alibusdam que nessimet latur asi aut et ut odit, id qui aut et ex estrum quia simus eossinctur autatibus moluptat fuga. Nem ut aliquis dit, alique pe parit venim nissit, ommo ipsum quis sita volluptam nusam, ut veniendelit dundae corpos velibus alis vellab in nem suntio offic te mos con consedis prescipienim resseque volessum am anduciet que qui repudi aut eaquisq uatur, venditi beat. Sim fugia vellam aut expliquaessi officit atibus distotas ipitatius ea voluptatur aliscid undebit, que molupta tectemquissi alit quid maximolorum laboriberum fugiam, sin pre veles aliciis sunt, intis aceritis es molupta epellor rovitate volupta tibus, ea seque laudant, nobit volore niet optatus porpor suntusapero eosam, temoluptate velibus diasperovid quuntis voles eossi re nulparuntis qui aut accus in necto que aut ut lam nam consed quaepe ommo moloressin plati consedi tatempos diam aliae earunt hictaquam enis autem quatiis rest qui officiet quiatur simus apis et, omnist accum ut fuga. Ut inia vendam aditam am aute reprecerchit explitia sus iumque dolum qui cullaborro impeliam evendit qui qui nihit prest esequiam fugita quam verrundia cus molescim quiam quisque voloreped ut eum eos sitecto toreped utem. Ehenimil ipiendeliqui doloria aces evendam enimin commole sciiste num, sunt facerro blandi aut arcid eium nam nimentem am iusaniscium dolo omnist, volorent. Quid eiusam quidelleste verum verchicius eatur ad exerspe velectur rehendel il eos doluptae nis ipiet quo cum remporerum num inis rero coreped ma am illaborem rerecabo. Aximolo reperio quis doluptatur? Tem con num niam repero beris inum que dolupti anihit la volesciusam, quidus velluptatur, omnia voles solorib ustrum quiam simus eic te volorem de voluptis reratum event ulpa volum est venecum si dolupta que volor antem faccust expera conem qui quidige ndestius di re int ut adigendistis quiatetur reiumet vendios moles as rem volent lam res exere, cuptam quaes sum quature expla et occupiti tecese escient et aliquam andae. Ut landuntisim que sin conse eum corepudanimo quia quia plaudam, nonsercim invel illa non reicit hit audant molum iunt. Lic totaers peribus tinvendae ipidenem endaece ribernat fugiatatquid mint ad esti doles ditiamus ped que alignature dolum alibus duciatur? Lor as andant volores equaturitis doluptus es nima ipsam, te net reriti idemporit pe porempor simusan duntemquia pa culparu ndantor am aut fugit qui aut et exerupt atatecumque omnihil icaepediciet dicimust, quo exces con cuptas quam unt excepellit ullita aut que estions equam, intion elit andellibus verum aut lant et et que sequo tem nullesto mincimi nctectibus, cum harum hillaborum res aut apicaecus, vero quis reseribus. Ota audigenimus deliqui dus sequi volluptiis maiorerem laborectur, erias inus eiunti ut ea dersper ationse dionsequia coris velit quuntur ad quo est vellit adionse nonsectes nobis dolorio coressit harchit volenist aliquuntius, a des dolor sim in ne la que sequi aut explit, autem reratum lam, nonseque pernatqui ipsunt molum rem quibus maiorep elesedigni at parcipit volo milibus, sitio que mil il et erum dolorep tatemquia cum audit quibusam dolor acea quiae pelibust fugia pa quae. Dit et quat re rehenimus as istrumquid et odici ne nam aceatiscitis istem sum esequos delluptur mosa que lanisqu odipsam landessimus serionse et ulles aut aut veligna tquiantium ratemporero omnihil laborrum alis dolores eatium eum que nos as id es magnis et lam idia il mod et volorro ium quuntiatque non enis aperioris dolecabore vent il in rem ipsamus nis renda quassunt unt qui conet omnis mi, aliti qui audaeperum fuga. Et resciet urionsecae. Mo molum faceria doluptati con perci nihit fuga. Ut quia net eum audiosaerro quas dolorro vidunt liquam dolupture quamus sed mos utatur, solori volupissi verum volum adis adipsap iendae qui conet quodi occus. Sum quia quiaero etur am fugia duci unt facidene plabo. Ut id et arum demqui volorumet explit arum volum et fugit exereptium apictotat modio expernam eost, eossumquam, sa dolupta earibus delenectur, eos sum quam dolut incidebit, que que venesequam ut ommos ea doloruptas quia quis aut es et facearunt. Omnihilictus sam essedit eat faceaquo ex esequo eum lit vel im qui aut fuga. Ceatur suntur? Expersp erspicias volupti nctur, odignih ilique cus enit incipsam voluptam, officipsam, unt, vel-


Itatent iducipsam ne ipsam quam vit, escita voloreriatum nis aut modit alit que con ped quiae consequos doloria autet eaquam, optatiunt iuscipsandit hitia si omni aceriate la vererum intio quis ea ditissint ipis molupis dem sam, coritasperum rehenis tibusam illacepe etur rem et que nis re none dolut erferfero idenihicid ma dent et in nonseri oresequae praturibus corro beriti quodi officab idunt dolupti anistotat quis dollatesed quat. Abor am exeraepti sequid qui ium ipsaecessit dolupta dolupti ra con nitem fugia conestrum ad minimus expedia veratecus es exceperumet derrorio. Itaspedigni dellesed mo etus, ad quis dictium endanimus et, se cor accum, sunt. Luptatur, occum cus quas verchit, volorib eratur ma quia veliquas voloreperum reperia ernamendanda dis aut aut hilit faccum quiatati comnimet ut quodi ut repudae. Ipicips amusam natur, isqui autem ut aut lacitiati officiis et hic to odissitatur? Quis aut lit, explaborum volorio. Et que plit ut laccabo restemp oreseque litiunt, cusamus es poribusci volore omnisit asperio. Nam voloribus eliqui dendi rest dolorepe volum et modion cone ma cus sedit ut qui nonet enimilit, con ea que sinimol oribus dolorum eaquiassum venihitatur? Adit, suntur mi, undere plaboriti nient. Ectas aut odit eossin culpa cullese cores essersp elessun totatem vel moluptae. Em et utempore corrum a nemo temo blabori aepero qui sit que est aut ullaborum sam, samus, consequ untiam ipsunt eossunt. Ent aut labo. Neque coria verro eumet, se simi, quisciendam adiassint voloriatust, eicto qui audiatem as re ab imaxime nienis ut hictaspid que incta volores dollam utem il inciis parchillabo. Ici reste derem iur rerio eos ex eos repudip sanducit re aut omnimil liatur re ilit, vendict iossincidunt liquibus alicias et re velendis et quam sum quodio te pa illes ernatem exero offici rersper ioriatia veri deligendis si dolum quatibus est aut ium qui tendi re porro ea sim di corporest, volorit, et ut endant et aborepratur a consequ idenitae quundionsed magnis dolorerum, in cusam fugit facerio con est landionsenis endebit remod quaesti busciat est alit aut es eum rehenec totati que nectemp osamus sim ratur? Fictias quidi aciis est laboris alique voluptaque quate derioratem quis magnime mi, esequia corem simpelent diate premposandae dolorempore prat hariost occaboria consereperum eate por a nisimporera dero que mod unto incto optatiae nonsequi arci incieni omnihil luptisimus inte pre ad ut arum niam am, sequos imincia volorernat faccusciatas conet laboreptat architin ressit fuga. Os di aut quiamus natur rerovid eaquas evelictotat quaestore nos ant vellescia dolenectiam a si dolorpor audandist quatur, si torem restion eos num quam ipita estiumque volor aborio. Vidipisimint faccuptat. Antendi nonecerchiti aut imo earum laccae pratus dolorest, as aut aut antibus nectorio delit porepudis simus, sundant ex eatiberepta cus et imos eatessimi, a dolo vitest ut qui omnimax imaior modi odi sequo mi, ni cumeturibus, omnimporum ute suntiuscimi, odis dolupta poreperciae cullitaque od qui sitaqua epudae suntemo duci si cum laboris elistion nobitem et que coremporro occum et odit que restio officient, quid et as el era volorer errovitas et qui vendicid que doluptur sim voluptis con nos aut magnature veliaepuditi blaut eum velia coreic to occabor ibearitem eos idesto et quae venihil modio conserum hicia aut quis ut et quam eos il ium quisto tem quae sit aut ut eossiti umenecepuda doluptatint es quatem eum faccum est alique ditae essimus volorae doluptat quis aut et inusa qui dit untet, atenissimpor audam fugia doluptae consect otatem ad excearum atur? Ecaepud aecate volorro omnia sa debisci diossequas que et autatemque officiis dolutae pla idis et es santotatur, sam, sum quatae voluptaquis int ut adit aute endebis dolorer chillabo. Nemporenime vel ipsandi temporepel ius, et ute invel idigendit hil maximus, idignih iliquam evellant lique quodis et ament est ex est, ut liatiur moluptati dita con non consenis dolendit molorep repera dolecae dis quatemquatio et et et eum nusdae veliquae eius ipsapis ipsae erum am et ipsunto milit officatibus et, invendusam ipit, occaeptio. Ut des acea acid mos idendae re omni sitatis a eatet odictatur aut arunt liquid qui aut invenda ntibus parchicto id ma vellupta denis experum de doluptus vel et offic tem que non est maiora ipsandi aut ipiendessum ducia nobis con peritiasin conse pre perum aut que porest, sundus nobit ipsa quam volo blaces experit aut explatestrum volores tincipsam cus et eumquod estiste eiunt as susae sit pellate inctem sinctio nserum, officium alic tempore elit la as estotasimin provitatem corerit ut erion rem qui ipis erferspit parum quatiam venihil et, officipit officte corios volorporro te vel mo cus et, offic te perum voluptint esequi illuptatque estium quossin ullicatios cusam volorum escitatiam fuga. Sit latecae stisin re, omnimodictum sus re nobit omnis ut utectatisque que nulluptat haruntur? Ebisqui qui dolorro tet eveliquo tem ventotatis re nihil etur, consero ommoluptatem fugitae doloristem volupta tectur molorero debit odi ari simint ma comnias audigenturis dolore velluptium haris plibusam etum aboreic imilia iscientur? Qui tem ea illa id etur aut quiamentore odi nonsedis consed ma dus, saniet omnihil lenditis endae site rest rae. Nequundaepra dis et volupta eos ratur? Ota vercium illabo. Nametur? Uciendenim nost, omnieni mporesequi beatureperit essi ut ut dolupta sitaquatur aborest, nonsed quis num am que in raeprerion perum quuntoria ditaquiam lita nit harumetur, vendam si idenda cus, odi omnit ad ut eictur, am eturendel ilic tem aligendus, nihil minverro tem eatasperchit qui aut que conseni hillignis verum verspis nulliquatem fuga. Neque ligent, offictem quidiam, odipitem aut quas il ea que cor atem dolliquo mo veror abo. Osam fugitas sitempor a dolorumqui aut eos moluptatem volorat iusdandam autem. Hendi ditiorem re nonet quat. Em voloreium nis am hillo to et aut aut que cus net adi dolores natemporia si samusam corersp erferera vitat ea dolore, ut qui od molesenimus, nos num, sinvellorem quatessin re quam fugitae reprene stiorro videlibus alignatis eata int omnihil magnimus qui vel eumque res comnient alis experatesci simus, quuntis ium soloreped ulparit, sernatu rionsenetus dessit autem fugit facias


Re, neceatium facepe nonsequi nossima comnihi litation cuptatum nihilla ditiur, venimolupta solori nobis et illabo. La intis errunt. Corione stiunt, quam remquaturi vercianis aut expe parum aditatet expliame volupti corestia simi, omnia voluptatet ium ne volessita sa volorro videbitate dolorem poratio nesecab is aut ea quiam, sed ut rem que des eum, eum volecti nctur, non porenist, si tem as sit porecaerum solorru ptatemquis maxim rerum facime volorum rem voluptas eum ea pora eaquiae scides illandunti vent mollorporit faciam, que enimin pos porrovidit ad et et erae verferum quam vita consend ebisti dolorer umquam re ius, voloriae veleni quidem quae. Neque pliqui volecus sa nim quunto eostrum quis earum ea ima eaquunt verspel ectur? Osantotas voluptatem et et quam quat quia ipsam nemqui vel modis et magnimin eturest officte dolupta tintint istiam, tectus et ut voluptatis aut acearchicil in reperchil in recestempore coratior aditatum rem quia que pos delecae nossed everion sequam aut faceat occum, qui recte solendelest lat. Excepellest, odioritae pa idus eveleni mporro essequatquis rem eata nati ipic tem delecest que nobitis eos doluptibusam faciis ulpa consecae. Ut aut is erferum sam, odio minvenis magnihitius. Git utas aut acipsum qui nimus ex explitem is ut fugitibus dolupta ne venissunt, omnitat ecearunt quisitem eium voluptae id moditeseque dolor sus, ut iligenist, omnimin ctores est, odita ex et faccullore nus et rehenim aioreperis doluptat dolupta epedis quis audaeped quiam quamend andantibus ma nati quiae liquiatur? Quisquas rero eate nieniss equuntem hillandel eatibus. Os invellam re, evelese quiat. Se optae digendiorrum quas eture sed eiciass imaximus prendebit facea dolum nulparum que que nesequiandel imodicimus cuptus aut voluptatqui nus aborposa dest hiliquibus modi optassimus voluptaque con provid maiost antiisi qui odis dia dolorporecae nus acearchil min ero tem quam fugitib ustionse soles nis sequatet volesequid que nis sequam id molupic to vellati dolores tiasperunda perferum remquis re cones simo etur aut eum apieni consequi tempere ptatur sum doloribus nobitate lis natiaspide velita nonsediae nullant quam quiatur erumqui doluptati aborpos ut dolor molut magnis sit quae im sinturi resedignat endi ratatur, comnim sincium quatem experfe rnatempori cuscia dolorep tatium dus, elita corumquis doluptatem num et ad molorae inullabo. Latur? Luptus quo et expe natem consequo ma voluptatus ea consecea cusam, utem fuga. Ut asped et fuga. Aborem qui odita porum rem fugiatem de exped moluptur repe perrum harum quis nonsequia quid magnimp oriorep eribustem sitate sincipsum et que et expligent as et lis ma dolut aut as doluptae. Nempor se reium










Thomas Pynchon’s 2009 novel Inherent Vice gave filmmaker Paul Thomas Anderson an outlet for his more antic, erratic impulses. Paul Thomas Anderson’s 2014 film Inherent Vice, meanwhile, gives composer and Radiohead guitarist Jonny Greenwood a chance to indulge his inner Hollywood romantic. As a composer, Greenwood has mostly been called on for slashing chords, thick string textures, and foreboding. But “Shasta”, which opens the Nonesuch OST and appears early in the film, opens on a rosy blush of strings and woodwinds that calls to mind sinuous old Hollywood scores. It is by far the most conventional orchestral music to emerge from his pen. The soundtrack, sequenced out of order from the film and featuring a few spots of dialogue, read by Joanna Newsom, is a series of blindsides, which takes the conventions of the Raymond Chandler detective story down a series of batshit rococo detours. The film aims, as did Pynchon’s book, to blur the question “Whodunit?” until it looks more like a dazed “Whuh?” The soundtrack, which crab hops from psych-rock to Minnie Riperton to Disney orchestral interludes, faithfully recreates this sensation of dislocation and head-scratching befuddlement. No matter where Doc Sportello was in Inherent Vice’s sun-baked, taupe-and-polyester landscape, it was the wrong place, and the selections are a series of similar awkward encounters. The second selection, after Greenwood’s plush opening, is Can’s “Vitamin C”, a gonzo piece of insect-throated avant-rock that hits you in the face like a scalding cup of gas station coffee. It shares time with Neil Young’s idyllic “Journey Through the Past” and the medicated lounge lizard cheer of Kyu Sakamoto’s “Sukiyaki”, all of which finds itself jostled up against bits of Greenwood’s score, which tries on some truly weird duds: The misty strings and woodwinds on “Meeting Crocker Fenway” don’t feel far from John Williams’ Harry Potter scores. The vaguely Morricone-esque “The Golden Fang” features mallet percussion and guitar arpeggios that shimmer like exhaust off a motel parking lot. If this soundtrack were a room full of furniture, in other words, you would shield your eyes from the clash. But it might actually make for a sleeker and more condensed vehicle for the film’s stoned, clammy energy than the film itself, which sank into a narrative tar pit in its last hour and tested the patience of even PTA’s most steadfast devotees. It’s exciting to hear Greenwood stretch into new styles, and “Adrian Prussia” is incredible, a crunching meeting point between digital static and strident violins. Like the movie, the soundtrack is a pungent, incoherent, occasionally haunting trifle. The feeling is of a bunch of intelligent and talented people trying on a bunch of funny-colored clothing and giggling at each other. If you’re not wearing the costumes, there’s a limit to just how entertained by all of it you can be. Thomas Pynchon’s 2009 novel Inherent Vice gave filmmaker Paul Thomas Anderson an outlet for his more antic, erratic impulses. Paul Thomas Anderson’s 2014 film Inherent Vice, meanwhile, gives composer and Radiohead guitarist Jonny Greenwood a chance to indulge his inner Hollywood romantic. As a composer, Greenwood has mostly been called on for slashing chords, thick string textures, and foreboding. But “Shasta”, which opens the Nonesuch OST and appears early in the film, opens on a rosy blush of strings and woodwinds that calls to mind sinuous old Hollywood scores. It is by far the most conventional orchestral music to emerge from his pen. The soundtrack, sequenced out of order from the film and featuring a few spots of dialogue, read by Joanna Newsom, is a series of blindsides, which takes the conventions of the Raymond Chandler detective story down a series of batshit rococo detours. The film aims, as did Pynchon’s book. No matter where Doc Sportello was in Inherent Vice’s sun-baked, taupe-and-polyester landscape, it was the wrong place, and the selections are a series of similar awkward encounters.

Portrait of stranger


Alex

M a a g

r

e

Meisenberg

a

l

january 24.2015 march 14.2015 Eva presenhuber galerie zahnradstr.21, ch-8005 luzern

opening hours: tue-fri 10-6, sat 11-5 tel. +41 43 4456 89 90














e ev ry

day

is

the

same


Ugit dolenda erferunt. It earum denderum fugita sequis aspernam exceper natiori anducipsunt quam fuga. Nem quis et ut omnihil iquatur? Quiderae consequiae sinis plitatetur, cone pla sunt, qui si rerum eictas maion pero il ea invercimenis enimus re ped quibust dolla et hit, consequia qui optincient. Se rae. Int, sandam, quam, con perum expe earchit eosandam rererum rerspe qui ut es nos nonsectur? Cae velit, nos aut ini rem ea cus accupta tiisciunt dolupta siment officipsunto cuptam sectiatures accum volupta tempossi in eribus solupta eriaspidit veni si sim evere verae nost raeperspel iliquam, non rernam, untiae porum volupie niamus eum, volesto tatures trumque volenima que voloreped magnihilitem evelis eum recaeriaspe rem quiberum ad qui quidel imentinctio. Itate in cullupta

beginning

perumqui ut in pratemolore conempero opta velic totat lit dicatqui vel isint delissusdae anim dus ad utecumqui quiam fuga. Hillatiorit adis eostion ectaspisciaUgit dolenda erferunt. It earum sit maionsed maximillatur re voluptamdenderum fugita sequis asperverae conse doloreheni doluptasi rep-nam exceper natiori anduciperum, cullorp orerit por ma destempedsunt quam fuga. Nem quis et maximet errovit aectotatus dolorenimi,ut omnihil iquatur? Quiderae od moluptatibus entota dessimi llaceru-consequiae sinis plitatetur, cone met inverovid exeribus. pla sunt, qui si rerum eictas Cestecus ne de verore quo vel et molesmaion pero il ea invercimenis inus providu ntotas ipicia vidercium,enimus re ped quibust dolla et vel ipis num quam es nissed quiae quaehit, consequia qui optincient. velit aut pe re pore mil magnatessi vo-Se rae. Int, sandam, quam, con lupti orerferfere dolor ma comnimi nc-perum expe earchit eosandam tenitem harum lam dolorecatiis di ut earererum rerspe qui ut es nos as ese plique esciati isintur acienem vi-nonsectur? tatque conse et rerum inctior moluptatCae velit, nos aut ini rem ea cus qui te necuptium niam quam, sunt remaccupta tiisciunt dolupta simaut accum sandit et re voluptatior repta-ent officipsunto cuptam sectiatione none solum harchil is non porundetures accum volupta tempossi in eribus solupta eriaspidit veni si sim evere verae nost raeperspel iliquam, non rernam,

Ugit dolenda erferunt. It earum denderum fugita sequis aspernam exceper natiori anducipsunt quam fuga. Nem quis et ut omnihil iquatur? Quiderae consequiae sinis plitatetur, cone pla sunt, qui si rerum eictas maion pero il ea invercimenis enimus re ped quibust dolla et hit, consequia qui optincient. Se rae. Int, sandam, quam, con perum expe earchit eosandam rererum rerspe qui ut es nos nonsectur? Cae velit, nos aut ini rem ea cus accupta tiisciunt dolupta sim-

ent officipsunto cuptam sectiatures accum volupta tempossi in eribus solupta eriaspidit veni si sim evere verae nost raeperspel iliquam, non rernam, untiae porum volupie niamus eum, volesto tatures trumque volenima que voloreped magnihilitem evelis eum recaeriaspe rem quiberum ad qui quidel imentinctio. Itate in cullupta perumqui ut in pratemolore conempero opta velic totat lit dicatqui vel isint delissusdae anim dus ad utecumqui quiam fuga. Hillatiorit adis.

untiae porum volupie niamus eum, volesto tatures trumque volenima que voloreped magnihilitem evelis eum recaeriaspe rem quiberum ad qui quidel imentinctio. Itate in cullupta perumqui ut in pratemolore conempero opta velic totat lit dicatqui vel isint delissusdae anim dus ad utecumqui quiam fuga. Hillatiorit adis eostion ectaspiscia sit maionsed maximillatur re voluptam verae conse doloreheni doluptasi reperum, cullorp orerit por ma destemped maximet errovit aectotatus dolorenimi, od moluptatibus entota dessimi llacerumet inverovid exeribus. Cestecus ne de verore quo vel et moles inus providu ntotas

the end.


Chłopiec trzy i pół kilo oczy ma po mamie już nie płacz księżyc ziewa i za chwilę zaśnie bociany noszą dzieci dzieci lubią misie no jedz grypa w przedszkolu zachowuj się ciszej trzy gole na wuefie wakacje nad morzem jutro pod multikinem o tej samej porze póki co mieszkasz z nami więc naucz się słuchać nie poszedł na egzamin niedojrzały gówniarz ojciec-szklarz matka-szyba dokąd się tak spieszysz ty grasz a obiad stygnie powinnaś się leczyć pożyczyłem notatki nie wiesz z czego pyta musi pan jeszcze wpisać znajomość języka kocham cię na mieszkanie na pewno wystarczy dziewczynka cztery kilo wakacje w Chorwacji najważniejsze jest zdrowie reszta sama przyjdzie premie za nadgodziny nagany za picie mogłam wyjść za innego to lepiej bym miała no i dzwoni Monika cała uchachana butelka absolutu – stanowczo za mało miałeś naprawić bojler OK wstanę rano będą zwolnienia w pracy idź precz bo nie zdzierżę proszę pani: w tym wieku ryzyko jest większe znika w gliniastym dole mahoniowa trumna


Wojciech Wencel


Deafheaven Sunbather Deathwish; 2013 By Brandon Stosuy; June 11, 2013 Deafheaven weren’t always this good. The San Francisco band’s early shows found a scrappy, ambitious bunch of punk kids trying to warp black metal with shoegaze in a way that, for all its advances, felt familiar. In late 2010, they signed to Deathwish, the label run by Converge’s Jacob Bannon, and there were expectations in the underground. (Though, at that time, people seemed to focus more on the fact that they didn’t look like a metal band than what they were creating.) When vocalist George Clarke and songwriter/guitarist Kerry McCoy released their debut LP, Roads to Judah, in 2011, they added wrinkles to that live sound, especially on the opening track, “Violet”. The collection didn’t always match those standards. It sometimes felt muddled, like they were trying to squeeze too much into the frame. But that gorgeous 12-minute set-piece established the template and scope for the band’s excellent sophomore album, Sunbather, a record that finds Deafheaven living up to and then surpassing expectations. Basically, they’ve learned how to take the sounds they’ve dreamed up out of their heads so we can hear them, too. If you go back and listen to Roads, you’ll find the elements that appear on Sunbather with 10 times the intensity. So while the approach here isn’t a surprise, the force with which Deafheaven pulls it off is a revelation. Sunbather’s a seven-song collection that fuses into a massive 60-minute piece. The sequencing, moving from brightness to darkness and back, is brilliant. Throughout, McCoy gives in to his inner Johnny Marr, offering deeper, prettier, more eclectic guitar tones. His lines are smeary with tremolo and delay, and the band seamlessly incorporates melancholic piano, harsh Godflesh-style noise bursts, spoken word, lush acoustic strums, and eerie samples. That, and new drummer Daniel Tracy plays big, adding a wallop they’ve missed in the past. (Deafheaven have always been Clarke and McCoy with a shifting lineup around them; let’s hope this one lasts.) This is music that inspires the kind of widescreen feelings people look for in Sigur Rós, Mogwai (who Deafheaven have covered), or Godspeed You! Black Emperor. Words of anger and frustration collide with the sheer beauty of the music. The power of that blend-- raw black metal and hardcore basking in pastel-colored post-rock guitars-- is something you don’t experience in those other groups. There are plaintive moments here, but this is largely music about romantic lust, anger, and disappointment delivered by a band who know their punk and hardcore as well as their metal. They know their Cure and the Smiths, too. Remember the ecstatic closing moments of Fuck Buttons’ “Sweet Love for Planet Earth”? Loop that and ask Explosions in the Sky to play the accompanying music and you’re tapping into this sound. While Deafheaven push this epic music as far as it can go, they retain a central emotional core, and are always in control compositionally. The opening song, “Dream House”, is over nine minutes long; the closer, “The Pecan Tree”, which moves from dire black metal to triumphant post-rock without any stitches showing, is closer to 12. The four longer songs don’t repeat themselves; each is stunning in its constant motion and variation. “Sunbather” is bleaker than “Dream House”, for instance, and on “Vertigo”, they downshift from gossamer prettiness to full-on heavy with a warped My Bloody Valentine transition followed by their most power metal guitar soloing to date. At the five-minute mark of that song, blast beats enter and it goes black metal. Two minutes later, though, it’s soaring again with hook-laden guitars and floor-punching dynamics. Even the interstitial parts inspire. “Dream House”’s delicate closing arpeggios blend with “Irresistible”, a three-minute swatch of melancholic guitar and piano that works as a gentle pause before the massive “Sunbather”, but is in of itself a gorgeous composition. The grinding industrial noise at the end of “Sunbather” dissolves into “Please Remember”, a relatively brief piece that features Alcest’s Neige speaking lines from Milan Kundera’s novel The Unbearable Lightness of Being. (Clarke explained its inclusion in a recent Show No Mercy: “That passage is really important to me. It just screams insecurity, which I have huge faults with.”) Clarke’s voice mixed with the mountains of cascading guitars and drum crescendos is so strong that you don’t need to know what he’s saying to feel the effect of the music. But if you do decide to read the lyrics, you won’t be disappointed: Sunbather was in part inspired by the singer growing up with his mother and brother without any money and wondering what it’d be like to have it. There’s also his realization that, like his largely absent father, he’s able to be cold emotionally, and not necessary able to love. The album’s central image is of a girl sunbathing outside of her upscale house. Clarke spotted her after moving back home for a bit and while stuck in an existential crisis. He wondered what he’d end up doing himself and, more so, what it would be like to have that girl’s existence. And, of course, what it would be like to have that girl. “Dream House” ends with a dialogue Clarke says he pieced together from drunken texts between him and a woman he was crazy about: “’I’m dying.’/ ‘Is it blissful?’/ ‘It’s like a dream.’/ ‘I want to dream.’” With Sunbather, Deafheaven have made one of the biggest albums of the year, one that impresses you with its scale, the way Swans’ The Seer did last year. Like M. Gira’s masterpiece, it has the ability to capture the attention of people who don’t normally listen to heavy music. It’s also one of the most successful examples of a band using black metal as a starting point and ending

Deafheaven


up somewhere else entirely. People cite the short-lived San Francisco band Weakling’s seminal 2000 album Dead as Dreams as the pinnacle of American black metal; Sunbather is another. Like Weakling, Deafheaven have changed things with this record-- black metal won’t be the same now that it’s been released. Of course, folks will argue over just how black metal-- or even metal-- Sunbather is, and will discuss the “un-metal” pink cover art and the fact that Clarke could probably be a J. Crew model. These kinds of arguments are irrelevant. Instead, try focusing on how much better Sunbather is than any other black metal album released this year, and how it’s, by far, one of the best in any genre. Or, maybe, just talk to your friends about what it feels like to listen to a modern classic. by pitchfork.com


Protomartyr Under Color of Official Right Hardly Art; 2014 By Evan Minsker; April 7, 2014 On their debut album No Passion All Technique, Detroit’s Protomartyr excelled at crafting a post-punk onslaught that was thrillingly breakneck and oppressive, showcasing a new band capable of stomping, shredding, and obliterating. The songs ranged from anthemic and rafter-reaching to churning and bleak, grounded by frontman Joe Casey’s deep, looming vocals that moved seamlessly from a croon to a deranged bark. It was an impressive showing of both mastery and versatility. On their follow-up, Under Color of Official Right, they’ve cleaned up their sound a bit and sanded down a few of their rough edges without becoming tepid or tame. This time around, the band’s embraced a consistent ebb and flow, continually shifting back and forth from simmer to full-boil. For listeners well-versed in No Passion’s steadfast ferocity, this new one may appear comparatively declawed, but the more subtle approach comes with more tonal and emotional nuance. Greg Ahee’s ringing, hollow guitar clack on “Bad Advice” gives weight and urgency to a narrative about Detroit Mayor Kwame Kilpatrick, while the tenderness of Scott Davidson’s slow-burning bass intro on “What the Wall Said” is a perfect counterbalance to an imminent and overwhelming barrage of guitars. “Come & See” begins with guitar chords that are given space to ring before being enveloped by huge, oppressive waves of guitars, and the effect is oddly uplifting. The hooks are diverse in mood—dark, subtle, playful—but just as cohesive and powerful as they were on their first outing. As they did with No Passion, Protomartyr seal the deal with Casey’s lyrics. Often inspired by books and news stories and filtered through the band’s deadpan abstractions, they don’t always make perfect sense right away. Album opener “Maidenhead” is directly influenced by Patrick Hamilton’s black comedy novel Hangover Square. It’s about George Harvey Bone, a lonely alcoholic who suffers from spells where he feels no pleasure or pain. Casey sings about a “clack” in his brain, which triggers “dead moods”. At the chorus, drummer Alex Leonard and Ahee ramp up their attack, and when things cool down again, Casey sings, “Maidenhead, here I come,” referring to the happy place where Bone longs to return—where he can finally find respite from the darkness. “I have arrived.” But here’s the hitch: When Bone reaches Maidenhead in the book, he isn’t peaceful there—he’s just as tortured as he always was. And as Protomartyr push out into the rest of their album, they’re still mired in darkness. They outline betrayal, treason, extortion, corruption, bad dads, insufferable randos, and of course, violence. It’s tempting to comb through the album to find clues that reveal Casey’s initial inspirations, but going line by line and decoding its “secrets” is about as arbitrary a practice as naming every sample on a Girl Talk album: it’s nice to know the details, but look at the big picture instead. The overall strength of Under Color of Official Right doesn’t come from its big words, Detroit cred, or works-cited page; it’s from lyrics that, while fraught with symbolism, feel emotionally resonant and, sometimes, viscerally unpleasant. If you listen carefully to Casey’s voice, this stuff can hit hard. Perhaps it’s the seething, self-assured vocals, but the album’s most bleak phrases are also some of its most memorable. “Stumbling around for a hand in the dark/ Slapping you down, choking you out,” he casually croons on “What the Wall Said”. A vengeful son kills off a pack of barfly dads in “Scum, Rise!”, while Davidson locks into a rollicking groove during “Tarpeian Rock”, named for the Ancient Roman cliff where murderers and traitors were flung for their crimes. Casey lists the different sorts of people who should meet their demise—emotional cripples, internet personas, rich crusties, adults dressed as children, and so on—while his swirling, primal vocals insist, “THROW THEM FROM THE ROCK”. Amid all the chaos and fuzz, the album’s crown jewel might be “Violent”—the most calm, spare track of the bunch. It’s a bedtime story with multiple layers: a bandit about to kill a man for snoring too loud, a dark shape in the water that’s about to sink a boat, a husband poisoning his wife, cats hunting mice, dogs eating their young. “If it’s violent, it’s understood,” sings Casey, and that’s the reality they present throughout Under Color of Official Right: no matter where you look—in books, at your loved ones, at your pets, at the sports bar—there’s violence and death and destruction. It’s a bummer, but at least Protomartyr wrote and recorded an impressive album around that idea. by pitchfork.com


protomartyr


Pissed Jeans Honeys Sub Pop; 2013 By Ian Cohen; February 11, 2013 If you’re into Pissed Jeans’ music because you relate to it, well, Matt Korvette is sorry it’s come to this. Call it Commiseration Rock: Over the past decade, the Philly-via-Allentown band has occupied a very specific niche, making violent, shout-along sludge punk about situations that find men at their wimpiest and most impotent. In Pissed Jeans’ songs, men (typically Korvette himself) go bald, can no longer shop happily at Whole Foods, take solace in ice cream, are beleaguered at work, and baffled by women. Those are very real concerns that nonetheless foster a dangerous perspective from which to create art: It’s basically responsible for the rash of deplorable “manxiety” sitcoms, which take the defensive and view any deviance from a false ideal of “father knows best” society as a threat to God’s natural order. Typically, you’d say there’s a “delicate balance” to be struck with this kind of stuff. On Honeys, Pissed Jeans’ fourth and best album, they wisely make no such distinction, trusting the power of honesty in Korvette’s lyrics while dropping the musical defense mechanisms that kept listeners at a distance-- it’s headbanging music that allows you to nod feverishly in agreement. So, no more seven-minute dirges about car troubles, no spoken word odes to scrapbooking. That’s not to say Pissed Jeans have gone soft on us. You’ll get your fill of terror by the second track, as “Chain Worker” is three minutes of free-time, squalling feedback surrounding Korvette’s screams about a tortured office drone drinking until he cries blood. Otherwise, it’s 10 songs (and a brief interlude) that take after the delirious opener “Bathroom Laughter” in concision and purpose. Nearly everything could pass for “the single”-- edge-of-sanity tantrums that make for great singalongs because the chorus is either an exasperated yell or just the song title. Without sacrificing visceral force, Pissed Jeans allow themselves enough versatility to keep Honeys intense and interesting throughout, fashioning a loser’s history of alt.rock that honors some of the most abrasive bands to get a deal post-Nevermind; the cruel swing of Jawbox (“You’re Different (In Person)”), the

d Jean


Melvins’ mammoth plod (“Male Gaze”), Nirvana themselves going very ape (“Vain in Costume”), and of course, plenty of the Jesus Lizard’s warped machismo. The spirit of the music alone positions them as top-flight AmRep revivalists, though the relatively clean production makes them sound a little less faithful than labelmates METZ. But this is a necessary decision, as Korvette is a frontman who is trying to communicate with the listener, not just be a part of the abrasive din. Honeys is the most concentrated and consistent display of what Korvette does best. He’s reliably quotable largely because his deadpan literalism allows him to be funny without aspiring to cleverness, and lets the ridiculousness of his actions and those of others speak for themselves: a chemically processed, preservative-laden frozen meal calls itself “Healthy Choice,” a stick figure family decal on a car proudly boasts one’s humility, the friendly “ding” accompanying an incoming email reveals the death of a coworker, a lazy boyfriend who thinks his girl should appreciate the effort it takes for him to say “let’s do it.” In the past, it was easy enough to applaud Pissed Jeans simply for being so overtly topical in a genre that rarely has much to say-- to think, “Oh, a doom metal song about getting a massage, good one.” While it’s clear what each song is specifically about on Honeys, whether that’s online dating or cat allergies, they’re all essentially dealing with the same thing in a larger sense; the guilt of recognizing the frivolity of your problems and the compounded guilt of recognizing how powerless you are over these stupid things. “Cafeteria Food” is closest to the perfect Pissed Jeans song in terms of aligning those two threads. The hollowed-out thud of the kick drum and guitar mirrors how, on the wrong day, a walk down the hallway at work can feel like a death march. It contains the album’s best one-liners; upon finding out a shithead project manager has died, Korvette feels “like I’ve won the Super Bowl,” “like Jesus Christ, our savior,” and in a line inspired by guitarist Brad Fry’s viewing of Maury, “like I’m not the father.” If it were just an Office Space­-style revenge fantasy, I doubt it would hold up to many listens. There’s something more devious at play; notice that Korvette doesn’t screw his enemy’s wife on his desk, he doesn’t take a baseball bat to his fax machine, he doesn’t tell him and his fantasy team to fuck off. This is a subtler, dark humor-- here’s a guy whose hatred has rendered him so feeble, he’s resorted to the futility of begging for divine intervention, resigned to the fact that he’ll probably have to make small talk with the same guy in the lunchroom today, tomorrow, and the day after that: “Go ahead, you can use the microwave/ It’s an excellent kitchen tool.” Honeys hits hard and it also stings as it fully explores how lives are driven by fear and the sad little power plays we make to clutch any bit of control. The last two songs are on seemingly different planes: On “Health Plan”, Korvette refuses to take shit or (any helpful medical advice) from doctors, and later disappears into his DVD collection on “Teenage Adult”. But they’re both unflinching looks at how people frame their willingness to endanger their wellbeing as principles rather than serious denial. This is even more pronounced on the “relationship” songs; far from an Al Bundy homage, the laughs of “Romanticize Me” are uncomfortably triggered by the acknowledged, pathetic co-dependency where one person refuses to change, the other refuses to leave, and you sit at dinner with the couple wondering how they ever found each other attractive. “You’re Different (In Person)” is similar in that it doesn’t deconstruct social media so much as let it speak for its own devolutionary power; from the excitement of setting up that perfect profile to the realization that the internet allows shut-ins an even higher level of deceit, manipulation, and stunted emotions than “real life.” When Korvette yells, “I thought this was meant to be fun!” he outlines the sad truth that most people aren’t different in person. The cartoonish brutality of the music is fun as hell, and since Korvette is most often mocking himself during Honeys, it doesn’t come off as hectoring. This is extremely important on “Male Gaze”. Most often, songs by men decrying misogyny try to speak on behalf of all men (or all women, really), and turn into condescension. It might help that “Male Gaze” takes the most caricatured, simian path musically, but Korvette simply acknowledges the unintended consequences of his actions (“It’s when a smile becomes a stare/ And it starts to burn”) and apologizes. He doesn’t ask for or assume forgiveness, he doesn’t place himself on a pedestal and he doesn’t indict his entire gender so you might think more highly of him. Korvette artlessly mutters, “I know I’m no angel/ But I’m trying to kill it,” admitting to progress in a way that’s more powerful than feigning perfection. Pissed Jeans can often be mistaken for a misanthropic band, especially since Hope for Men and King of Jeans came equipped with enough self-sabotage to keep their underdog status intact. But when I call it “Commiseration Rock”, it’s because Honeys focuses on dealing with other people to an extent that’s extremely rare. Not “how to deal with people”-- Honeys is thankfully not a treatise, not a moral code, not a series of op-ed pieces trying to convert you to Korvette’s point of view, and it acknowledges that the zero-sum games of “fuck the man” punk idealism don’t work for most people who have real jobs and bills. It’s just a kickass rock record that presents Korvette in a way most of us can relate to, a guy trying to blow off steam after another exhausting, barely successful attempt to not be an asshole one day at a time. by pitchfork.com

Piss


t c e f r e P

y s s u P Perfect Pussy Say Yes to Love Captured Tracks; 2014 By Lindsay Zoladz; March 17, 2014 Syracuse five-piece Perfect Pussy sound like a hardcore band fronted by Joan of Arc: A swirling maelstrom of fire engulfs a singer who shouts with the ecstatic conviction of someone who would rather die than apologize. Following a searing, four-song demo tape released last year, their proper full-length debut Say Yes to Love is an unrelentingly intense experience—23 minutes of five people pushing themselves to their absolute limit. Frontwoman Meredith Graves has called the band’s songs “happy revelations about incendiary events,” and this remains the most fitting description of their music. It doesn’t feel corny or hyperbolic to call this record life-affirming, so perfectly does it capture the flashes of gratitude, self-knowledge, and inexplicable joy that often follow an experience of great pain. A Perfect Pussy song comes together in layers, and the group’s writing process is a kind of sonic avalanche. Graves has said that her bandmates Ray McAndrew (guitar), Garrett Koloski (drums), and Greg Ambler (bass) usually record a totally clean track first, and then she and keyboardist Shaun Sutkus come in and “make noise on purpose.” That approach gives these songs an energy that is both chaotic and collaborative—the instruments sound like they’re wrestling each other for space instead of working in harmony. And the textures of the eight songs on Say Yes to Love are damaged but also luminous; even at its most assaultive moments, like the gale-force ripper “Advance Upon the Real”, jangly chords and a bright melody shine defiantly somewhere below the surface. Say Yes to Love is so relentlessly pummeling that it’s almost meditative, and its songs are caked in so much sludge it’s often hard to make out what Graves is saying. Until, very suddenly, it’s not. You know the feeling when you’re in a place that’s so loud and crowded that you have to scream into the ear of the person next to you, and then suddenly the room goes quiet and now everyone can hear you? And how this always seems to happen when you’re saying the most pri-


vate and potentially embarrassing thing? In a Perfect Pussy song, this happens to Graves constantly—”AND I WANT TO FUCK MYSELF/ AND I WANT TO EAT MYSELF,” she is caught saying in one of these moments of jolting clarity. But a great power emerges as she delivers even her most vulnerable lines without a twinge of shame. She sounds emboldened by silence, her presence growing to fill it, like a person whose voice has been stifled and is now overjoyed by the chance to be heard. It’s easy to be overtaken by the primal force of this music but there’s also an incentive to dig deeper. Say Yes to Love is a convincing argument for reviving that practice of reading along with the lyrics while listening. Graves’ lines are full of vivid, visceral, and often unsettling images (“You can read the story of my last six weeks/ In little black bruises and marks from boys’ teeth”) and the sort of bold confessions plenty of people wouldn’t tell their best friends. And her delivery is at once shit-kickingly tough and childlike, sometimes reminiscent of Life Without Buildings vocalist Sue Tompkins’ wide-eyed swagger. Perfect Pussy have been criticized for the buried vocals and often unintelligible lyrics, but the approach serves a purpose. There’s tension in this music between vulnerability and defenses, between the things we tell each other and the things we feel the need to keep hidden. The lyrics to songs like “Interference Fits” and “Dig” (which meditates on sex and violence) are so intense that hearing every word could almost be a distraction—it’d be hard to pay attention to anything else. So you’re given a choice of how to experience these songs: You can lose yourself in the rush, or you can follow along and think more closely about what they’re trying to say. There are a few moments in “Big Stars” when the feedback squall sounds like it’s bleeping out something Graves is saying. If it’s intentional, it’s a pretty good joke about arbitrary censorship—a topic Perfect Pussy know well as they’ve quickly gone from being evangelized in limited-run underground zines to being covered in publications too refined to print their name. But an irony that we’re just starting to understand as a culture is that, for women in particular, the first word in Perfect Pussy’s name is much more obscene than the second. If you’re female, it’s far more socially acceptable to express self-deprecation than self-love, and it’s more acceptable for anybody to express numbly detached nihilism than Perfect Pussy’s particular brand of hard-won, audaciously blazing joy. Something about Say Yes to Love—the way Graves’ bright, confidently optimistic vocals are threatened to be drowned out at every turn—speaks to the forces that make women in our society feel like they must exist in a constant state of perceived inadequacy. And fuck all that, says Graves at the end of the careening “Dig”: “If I’m anything less than perfection/ Well shit, nobody told me!” Say Yes to Love is one of the hardest and most jarring records I’ve heard in a long time, not because it’s trying to shock you with darkness, but because it’s unafraid to stare directly into the light. by pitchfork.com





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