Little darlings, it’s been a long, cold lonely winter, and I’ve let things lapse. Now we’re awake and back.
First and foremost: The next Anton Sword show worth going to is Saturday April 27 at The Church, the sporadic loft party on the Williamsburg-Bushwick border (142 Manhattan Avenue, between Montrose and Meserole, quite accessible by subway). If you haven’t come before, come now, because Sword & Slave (Anton, Gina on bass & Michael on guitar) will be joined by fabulous adorable Skatebirds, who are returning from France to sing their garage-pop songs about life in Lorraine and visits to our ‘hood. The legendary Sans Culottes will also play at the end of the night, as well as the excellent local band Discovery, and there will again be spectacular psychedelic back projections by the video-keyboard playing B.A. Miale. Preceding the night is an Art show in the same space. You can therefore visit this hall of culture heavenly and hellish at 7 pm and have your various needs satisfied without ever leaving until 4 a.m. Yeah there’s only one bathroom, but you’ll be so entertained and happy you’ll forget you’ll need to go.
Here is a link to the Facebook event for those of you who are on FB:
Time Bender’s Ball Sat April 27
In the meantime there is a new track – actually an old song, written decades ago but only recently recorded in NYC and then mixed by the fabulous and adorable Ingo Krauss at Berlin’s Candybomber studio. We don’t claim it will change the world or much of anything, but it is something. There will be more to come througout the spring and summer.
(The lyrics are below, at the bottom of this post).
Sometimes an old tune has to get finished, even though it may not represent the most current vision. It’s clogging the channel, and needs to get done just to make room for other, newer stuff waiting to emerge. Personnel on this track: me on vox, keys & programming as always; Michael Lawson on guitars; Gina Marie Rodriguez on bass. Recorded in NYC by me, with special help from the golden-eared Carl Barc; mixed & mastered by Ingo Krauss at Candybomber, Berlin.
What else? During the winter I partly occupied myself acquiring and exploring a lot of new equipment, hard and soft. Know what I mean? Here’s some hard:
despite the predominance of the Moog logo, my favorite right now is that square semi-modular synth-box, which is called a ‘Dark Energy.’
In the soft realm I also acquired a plug-in that’s called the ‘Voice of God’. It looks like the black monolith from ‘2001: a space odyssey’ and its purpose is to give one more control of low-frequency resonance. Between the Dark Energy and the Voice of God a new universe may very well be created, but it will probably take until mid-summer at least. But enough Sonic Theology!
MEYLENSTEIN, Berlin-based multi-media designer extraordinaire, has been busily making a video for ‘The Air’ (from last spring’s ‘Here in the Hurricane’ release). It should be ready soon!
New Fall Europe Tour
And it looks like we’ll be returning to Europe in late September if we cobble together enough shows. If anyone wants us to play a particular place, we’ll gladly consider whether it fits the tour schedule, so just contact: firstname.lastname@example.org.
That’s all for now. Oh, here are the lyrics to ‘Leading To The Ledge’. They date from the days I was still writing obsessively in couplets:
Our love’s a combination lock set in an ancient safe
We work the picks and the cylinders until our fingers chafe
Kneeling there together sweating underneath our masks
We both got so tired of questions we never even asked
Partners in crime, our treasure is unhoardable
What’s yours? What’s mine? The portions are unsortable
We bit the dust and tried to split the take to escape
But all our dynamite couldn’t put the wine back in the grape
Our secret names all blew away in dead confetti mail
And all our dreams in bottles from the belly of the whale
They spilled out across the flood but could not make a bridge
No they just rolled out a thin red carpet leading to the ledge
Love is a word with a hole punched in the center
The silence may hurt but it lets the pleasure enter
Still upstairs in the bedroom dresser in the back of the bottom drawer
There is a crumpled paper ball that won’t unfold anymore
(repeat the chorus).
Copyright 2013 Anton Sword/Fugue State Music.