Monthly archive for October 2012

Thunderbitch

Fly Golden Eagle + Clear Plastic Masks + Brittany Howard (Alabama Shakes) = so many options…

 

Ladies and Gentlemen: Thunderbitch.

My Baby is My Guitar by thunderbitch

I Don’t Care by thunderbitch

Jerkwater Burg

The evening of November 3, Open Gallery – here in Nashville – will play host to an environment built up of corporeal experience. ‘Jerkwater Burg’ is the collaboration of Nashville artists, under the guise of Blacktooth Records (in the archival sense), who work in varying mediums, combining their abilities in order to manipulate multiple senses with the hope of wholly influencing and enhancing the physiological, psychological, and emotional state of its audience. It is not a gallery showcase, but a temporary hyper-reality, designed to encourage its inhabitants to feel something new, something strange.

In ‘Jerkwater Burg’ an attempt is made to house an environment not unlike what Alan Watts described as, “the experiencer and the experience becoming a single, ever-changing, self-forming process,” one where the situation is familiar – semiotically, artistically, etc. – but unlike the unification of the place and person, we desire a slight discomfort with what we call the Arpeggio of Meaning while still holding belief in the singular experience. Magical. Curious. Off-putting. Inviting. A kind of forcing of an unconscious suspension of disbelief. 

Our idle frustration with our own inability to project a concrete meaning on experiences is fascinating to us, and in our current age we think that many others feel the same. Perhaps it is that these affects exist entirely outside of logistics. We invite you to explore ‘Jerkwater Burg’.

You may accidentally find yourself in the middle of Jihad or adorning yourself with Mimosa in the springtime. Perhaps you’ll discover your lover to be too coquettish in this space, or that all your friends are a pale mutiny of dispossessed voidoids hatched in a misty somewhere between fictive and mundane. And we know you’ll want to help – we do too, that’s the idea – but we can’t help, and we view all these attempts at meaning as banging your head against a wall: it’s nice when it stops.

The more unsure we are of the exact spacial provence we’re inhabiting, the further into the liminal hinterland we go. You have to know it feelingly in these ugly, mystifying times and the last thing we want to do is rest on our laurels when it comes to this slug we’re trying to salt.

Picture by Ventral

“Manuscripts don’t burn…”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

…but people do.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Friday at The Stone Fox is Fly Golden Eagle, James Wallace and the Naked Light and Meadownoise. Saturday at the Basement is Oh Dang Lo Mein, Banditos and Clear Plastic Masks. Everyone is back in town and everyone will be in town this weekend, right?