talkboxers

Happy Birthday Sam Cunningham

2009-12-24T16:42:00.000-08:00

21 years ago, a boy entered the world. the universe, hollowed, tired, and old, screamed, "om.."

0912170118 Sam Cunningham (the birthday beat) by zronnyz

crunchy UCSC walk

2009-12-24T13:14:00.000-08:00

a crunchy walk through UC Santa Cruz campus with a few sconed companions.

0912211613 crunchy UCSC walk by zronnyz

office chair wheel kick

2009-07-30T14:30:00.000-07:00

do you feel like you're just a broken wheel getting kicked around by society?

0907272348 Allison's Birthday Office Chair Wheel Bash by zronnyz

well now's your chance to hear the way you feel.

imagine it's nearing another lonely midnight in a summer that's been nothing but resting, lying, waiting for somebody with a laptop and a mission come pick you up.

instead, a group of hooligans arrives and kicks the shit out of you. there is no god.

burnt thumbs

2009-07-17T14:54:00.000-07:00

this isn't my guitar-playing.

0907142050 Burnt Thumbs by zronnyz

but it's my recording of a good friend of mine performing a short opening set at a friend's apartment in the Mission. he is a one-man show. one man, one guitar, one amp, and many, many pedals. with these devices on his side, he leads us on an epically dark journey through sonic seas and beating bloodbaths.

as you'll hear, chris starts the show with a reading of a passage from The Old Man and the Sea. around 6min in, you can barely hear him read a short passage from Blood Meridian. he continues through this back and forth of readings, but each time the wall of sound rises higher above his voice, drowning out any possibility of intelligibility. is this how either Hemingway or Cormac McCarthy is meant to be read?

note: i've included about two minutes of what one might call superfluous recording, where people talk, sit around, and wait anxiously for the performance to begin. except i don't consider it superfluous. a live performance is an organic experience. that's why it's called a LIVE performance. when you go see an orchestra perform a symphony, they do not merely start at the first note of the piece. no, long before you hear that first note, you hear thousands of notes emanating from every instrument in the orchestra, as the virtuosos tune their weapons. not only that, but as it is here, you hear the quacking of human conversation from every side.

enjoy.

up on the shelf

2009-07-15T00:08:00.000-07:00

had to get this one off of my chest

up on the shelf by chriscaceres

neon indian

2009-07-07T00:37:00.001-07:00

i don't plan on publishing too many of these posts...but...i just came across this band while browsing through xlr8r. i guess this post is about the importance of musical/band names. i think i was drawn to listen to this group's music because of the name...neon indian. it's so...modern sounding...india always strikes such images of sacred, ancient traditions and neon is like dirty, bright, glitchy, static electric bursts...i guess you get the picture. check out neon indian's single - 'terminally chill'

computer blue

2009-07-06T11:37:00.000-07:00

hard drive, router, laptop, reciever, modem. data, wireless, computer, sound, internet. information, air, brain, voice, network. DNA, O, mind, expression, virus.

until i find a righteous one, computer blue.

2009-07-02T08:49:00.000-07:00

chuecatown, madrid

Good Night

2009-06-30T17:03:00.001-07:00

this neat little description is featured on the last page of the booklet for my copy of the Beatles' White Album, which i'm about to sell to a random guy through Craigslist for $10:

The Compact Disc Digital Audio System offers, on a small convenient sound-carrier, state-of-the-art sound reproduction. The Compact Disc's superior performance is the result of laser-optical scanning combined with digital playback, and is independent of the technology used in making the original recording.
For best results, apply the same care in storing and handling Compact Discs as you would with conventional records. No cleaning will be necessary if the Compact Disc is always held by the edges and is replaced in its case immediately after playing. Should the Compact Disc become soiled with fingerprints, dust or dirt, it can be wiped (always in a straight line, from center to edge) with a clean, soft, dry, lint-free cloth. No solvent or abrasive cleaner should ever be used. If you follow these suggestions, your Compact Discs will provide a lifetime of pure listening enjoyment.

i guess i just wanted to officially say goodbye to CDs. though my very first albums were cassette tapes, CDs were definitely my preferred music medium for many years. i didn't build up an absurdly immense collection, but over the years i did eventually gather about 100 of my favorites. i played them on my little aiwa CD player, which i took absolutely everywhere (making sure to turn up skip protection all the way). when i started driving, i always had 5-10 constantly changing CDs in my glove compartment.

eventually though, sometime in high school, i switched exclusively to playing digital files on the computer. still, i always loved and still do love owning a physical copy of my favorite art. but guess what, vinyl packaging is vastly superior to CD packaging. so i started buying used records.

to this day, i militantly encourage everybody to illegally download like fucking crazy and then support the artist by either a) attending shows or b) buying vinyl.

goodbye CDs. you treated me well, but i don't need you anymore.

bridge to nowhere

2009-06-30T10:41:00.000-07:00

riding down 80, tires leaking slowly, questioning existence on a bridge to nowhere.

re: rusty electronics

2009-06-28T05:30:00.001-07:00

you remind me of not too long ago, of coca cola, of zombies, of royalty, of synthesizers, of metals not on the periodic table.

rusty electronics

2009-06-26T16:00:00.000-07:00

Beat 01 by chriscaceres
i'm warming up...reviving the synths...trying to get creative energies going, feeling very 80s and electropop. just a demo of a work in progress, feedback appreciated.

blurry beginning

2009-06-25T01:09:00.000-07:00

a blurry image stretches out before you of a black and white canine smiling a silly grin, your eyes don't have time to blink before you process the pixels, criticize the crystals, exorcise your exit, stating your opinion, I like it! or I don't like it... but your momma told you don't say nothing if you don't got nothing good to say, so you keep your mouth shut up, not even two seconds have passed before you've surfed across three continents, the blurry image brushed out of your mind like a blown winter coat, but some day some time some way down the road, you'll be walking in the real world and you'll see a creature trotting on the silver-matted ground and even though you may not realize it, you'll realize it, that's it, it before you, the thing you saw, so long ago, the stretchy face with the silly grin, the dog, the picture, the digital spin, the upload, the art, the modern piece of shit farce, the grin, A+, the best digital joke you never laughed at.