Rare Books

 I own them all, of course... 

John Banting, 1933, £65,000

Daido Moriyama , 1974, £32,500

Joan Miró (Paul Eluard poems), 1958, £50,000

F-L Schmied, 1930, £45,000

Shimozato Yoshio, 1940, £35,000

You Taught Me Everything I Know

All art is a kind of confession, more or less oblique. 

― James Baldwin

Michael D Donnelly - I've Come To Love You Forever (Exotic Pylon)

Michael Donnelly will not appear in the Bass Player's Hall of Fame alongside Bootsy Collins, Michael Henderson, Charles Mingus and Kim Clarke, but they will not make an album such as this evil brew of burnt beats and mean backstreet moods. Check the titles: The Bladebone, The Fetish, Shimmering Jenny, Sane Men Paranoid - the spectres of John Zorn and Angelo Badalamenti directed by David Lynch haunt these blood-soaked portraits of pain and despair orchestrated as fragments of fear woven into a tortured tapestry. Multi-faceted as opposed to the 1-D drone of many doom-mongers, Donnelly's album delivers Noise (And Painkillers) and the kind of Ambient tracks Brian Eno has nightmares about (Moles Man, Sane Men Paranoid), driven by the bass heartbeat rhythms of a man condemned.

I Act Out This Dream - Page From Space-Age Pulp Word Files

First major project of this year is to collate all of the space-age pulp word investigation texts and put them in a single file thus creating one entity from many passages of cut prose. It's untitled as yet, although a lot of it appeared as Shadows here, which was taken down due to lay out problems. Some also appeared in What Remains Of Words. The themes are mind control, identity, word control and the blurring of fiction & fact. Publishers interested in what will undoubtedly be a best-seller may contact me via this site. 

Jake and Dinos Chapman Said 'Come and See' So We Went And Saw...

Went to Jake and Dinos Chapman: Come and See at the Serpentine Sackler gallery...

...saw Bobby Gillespie in the restaurant next door, which was far too posh for us...

...so we left...

...saw Jake and Dinos' art...

...and had a good laugh...at the Klansmen in their soiled whites and crazy multi-coloured socks & sandals...

...and the imaginary machines...

...but seeing the vitrines was something else...

Sun Ra Poem & Video (Scene 1, Take 1)

(Sun Ra life advice?)

I reached a 'blank wall' today, but instead of marching on, I stopped and watch a film. What I was making can wait. 

Some days all you can see in front of you is that blank wall. 

Still, 'Keep marching' is good advice because the alternative is giving up every time you're confronted with that wall. 

So be up and doing as you're told by the legend that is Sun Ra...

Borders Of Nowhere

Forward until you reach

A blank wall

And when you reach

There past the borders of nowhere

Keep marching

Towards the shadow of its height

As if there were no wall at all.

What will happen then?

No questions allowed!

Forward in your command ----

So be up and doing

As you're told.

What The Eye Does Not See

Matthew P Hopkins - Nocturnes (Vittelli Recordings)

A superb second release from Nick Hamilton's Vittelli label. 

The vinyl is grey, therefore incredibly handsome, making me yearn for more beautiful products such as this. I should allow for at least one per month and may make that a New Year's resolution...the only one I'm likely to keep.

As a bonus you get four little separately-coloured cards containing 3 Listening Events written by Hopkins. Sample from one: 

                          Scatter the scraps.

                          Room resounds with dribble.

                          Bugs and boiling sounds waft in and blend.

So, you get unintentionally (?) poetic diary snippets too. And they're all very good.

The samples below don't do justice to the three Nocturnes. In their full form they prove totally mesmerising as the ebb and flow of sound seeps into you brain on a drone wave carrying sonic debris from concrète to cosmic transmissions. Terrific.

Only 300 pressed.

Vittelli

Taking Shots: The Photography of William S. Burroughs at The Photographers' Gallery

Taking Shots: The Photography of William S. Burroughs at The Photographers' Gallery

'Where do we start? Asked LJ as we entered the 4th floor gallery.
'Start? Anywhere! In honour of Bill's cut-up time/space reconfiguration we should jump from place to place in a non-linear fashion!'
Yes, so whilst the sheep queue viewed in a very orderly English fashion, we who truly understand the man simply chose photos that were uncluttered by human debris and proceeded to squint at what were mostly small images. This made them all the more appealing, having to truly look rather than stand off, glance from afar and walk on.
'The goddam queer, ' I said in my best Bill voice whilst looking at the sequence that makes up What Was, What Isn't. It's six shots of a bed, made and unmade, complete with soiled sheets, and I don't mean cocoa stains. That was good, but I don't think the man who was also looking got my joke because he gave me a suspicious glance.
They were showing Towers Open Fire in the little side room...

I soon homed in on one of the two cabinets in the centre of the room...

So close and yet so far! Frustrating...it was as much as I could do to refrain from smashing the glass...

There lay the Time project...

There were Tangier photos, St Louis shots, self-portraits (especially good), photo collages and a brilliant shot of Kerouac. All a bit much, really. I needed a lie down. Or at least a photo of myself to prove I was there (it doesn't prove I was there to anyone but me)...

How To Make A Mess

'If people don't want to look properly then fuck 'em' ', I said to LJ a minute ago.

Ha-ha!

Of course you'll look properly, won't you? I just know you will because you're not a complete victim of online sensory overload, which dictates that you can only look at something for a nanosecond...and struggle to read more than 140 characters of text. That's why you read Include Me Out, right? You're a connoisseur...of what, I don't know...

As for you, yes you, the first time visitor, what can I say to make you bookmark this place and come back? Nothing. Should you do so, though, I'll be pleased to have your company...

Here's something I made. It's called How To Make A Mess. I think 'they' would call it 'Digital Art'.

Another quote from LJ this morning: 'You're a fucker for disobeying.' Yes, I am...

Helm - The Hollow Organ (PAN)

Bill Kouligas' PAN label hurtle into 2014 with their 50th release in the form of Helm's The Hollow Organ, thus signalling Bill's intention to continue ruling the world of electronic music from his Berlin control tower. So towers open fire!

Hold on though, this is not some tub-thumping rallying cry or blast of beats that will waken those still dead to PAN's mission. No. It's 25mins of thoroughly unpleasant electronic noise...and I love it, not because it's Noisy, but because it represents an artist in full control having picked his tools and set about covering the canvas. This is abstract art at its finest, and although certain tones set the mood, the (post)-impression(istic) power, whilst obvious, is not easy to define. Impasto fashion, Luke Younger layers molten metal on swathes of iron filings pasted to glistening steel. He does.

The opener, Carrier, is initially beat-driven, but that momentum subsides about halfway through, like a fuel rocket being ejected into space. After that, we're drifting through a cloud of alien transmission. Analogues, you can hear below, so I'll say nothing other than it absolutely maintains the strength of this EP, as does Spiteful Jester. There's no let up on the title track, where you spend 10mins inside a Gothic mega-structure made to manufacture nightmares that will erase your head. Magnificent.

The Mechanization of Art

'Mechanical reproduction emancipates the work of art from its parasitical dependence on ritual' 

Walter Benjamin 

The Work of Art in the age of Mechanical Reproduction. 1935.

Radio Age UK Concern & A Prole In A Bookshop

A man came into the Kentish Town Oxfam shop today and asked for Captain & Tennille...on tape...

I looked him over...he was around 60...one step from being a tramp and two from residing in Bedlam, I thought. Special needs? He certainly had one...

I've always liked this record, actually, and here, as a bonus, it's introduced by Vincent Price...

'Young and beautiful...someday your looks will be gone...'

Crossing the road I went in Age UK (they've changed their name from Help The Aged, which sounded too needy, to Age Concern, as if we're concerned about being aged! Now it's Age UK which, let's face it, is better, but a bit general...I mean, we're all at a certain age, aren't we?). It struck me that I must be getting old because I always enjoy the music in this charity shop. It comes from their own station, which you too can enjoy here. 'From folk to jazz, swing-time to classical, pop to rock - there's a little something for everyone.' Whilst I was in there they played this...

...and you know that there have been few greater things ever made. It compensated for me not finding one decent book.

I almost committed a crazy act whilst I was out and about...yes...I nearly bought a brand new book from a proper bookshop, thinking 'I'll be charitable', you know, as if I can afford to throw money at proper bookshops. But the thing was, I hadn't bought anything except a loaf of bread and felt I needed a cultural fix - I MUST BUY SOMETHING! Pathetic. So I went into the shop and looked around for Iain Sinclair's American Smoke but couldn't see a copy - the seller said they'd sold out - I left, consoling myself with the thought that I tried, anyway. I also thought 'Who the hell buys books from these places?' The middle-class 'intelligentsia' of Kentish Town, of course, who can easily afford to support their local bookshop.

But when's the last time I saw a prole in a bookshop? I dunno, not going into them often myself. And would I recognise one if he wasn't wearing tracksuit bottoms and trainers whilst carrying a JD Sports bag? Of course I would, I can smell 'em a mile away, my brothers and sisters...perhaps 'cousins'...long lost relatives anyway. The days us proles start reading decent books en masse is the day The Revolution dawns...of the mind, at least. That would be a start...

New Worlds Magazine No. 213 feat JG Ballard's 'Mr F Is Mr F'

After the post about the recently published New Worlds book, here are some pages from my copy of issue no.213, 1978. J. G. Ballard's Mr F Is Mr F was written in 1958, according to the editorial. This, however, was the first time it was published. You can read about Ballard's early experimental work here.

Ø (Mika Vainio) - Konstellaatio (Sähkö Recordings)

After the heaviness of last year's Kilo album, Mika Vainio now ascends, almost weightlessly, into the Kosmos. Some tracks, however, are anchored by slow, muted beats, therefore we don't completely drift, gravity-free, through space. But hold on, that space image on the sleeve deceives unless your Finnish is good. Translated, some titles read A Midsummer Night Elves (Kesäyön Haltijat), and The Tree Of Life (Elämän Puu). So is this Vainio in Middle Earth? Has he gone soft? No, thankfully. The final track, Takaisin, means Back if the translation machine is right, so we are on some kind of journey, just not the kind non-Finnish speakers might assume.

Fear not, there are no flutes, harps, or mandolins involved, though I doubt you'd expect those from Vainio. If this is a 'mystic' record, it is one with edge and the depth of spatial sound you'd expect from the man. On Talvipäiva, Vanha Motelli (Talvipäiva, Old Motel), after some initial audio shocks to the brain, there a long spells of silence as well as ghostly vibraphonics. Vainio visits The Overlook? Something like that, whilst sounding nothing like The Caretaker.

There's something almost symphonic about Metsän Sydän, which suggests, in a minimalist fashion, the mysteries of the forest. Much of what lies beneath seems to be where the heart is, in the faintest of sounds, the suggestion of danger, the distant bleep yearning for contact in the eternal blackness. I can't help thinking of Egisto Macchi's classic albums, although there a few sound similarities the atmosphere here is shot through with the same kind of restrained electronic finesse.

Unlike so many would-be voyagers today, Vainio shuns clichéd futurism in favour of creating a magical otherworldliness at times and this album is all the better for it.

Treacherous Orb - Time Attendant (More Than Human)

Paul Snowdon's new E.P. for More Than Human doesn't exactly grab your attention from the start with Iridium Watcher, but this being the post-human space-age of electronic seduction you will succumb to the unearthly delights on offer, I promise.

The opener's apparently simple sound disguises a great deal of content just beneath the surface of the minimal riff, like a distant planet on which we think there may be life. A voice breaks through the light static and crackle, but we have no idea what it's saying. The composition evolves and revolves wonderfully.

Whilst Voider's Delight initially suggests the golden age of the Radiophonic Workshop, this is no bleep-by-numbers via the button marked 'Retro'. Snowdon introduces an organ halfway through which adds just the right amount of depth, albeit fleetingly, yet retains the beautifully simple Beeb sci-fi soundtrack feel. Lethargy Quest is darker territory, proving this artist's ability to conjure various moods successfully. Anchored by a single bass note, the rest of the sounds warble and ping into orbit, complete with the subtle use of musique concrète. As if to suggest a fondness for the old genre know as Hauntology, on the title track Snowdon deftly places the call of a crow as just one snippet. It works, but in this context I actually thought there was a crow about when playing it outside. Cloud Dowsing ups the tempo without overdoing it, thus presenting the perfect image of the Future past to these ears, as does the whole E.P.

A bonus treat comes in the form of Dolly Dolly's spoken word intro to The Hexapod Star Shuffle. 'Animal head and sun disc'? Very suggestive of cosmo-Egyptology and quite perfect. Only 300 to be released on vinyl, so get a move on.

More Than Human

Time Attendant

Randy Greif - Noises From The Attic (Forced Nostalgia)

I've been meaning to post this album for weeks but Xmas got in the way, as did a trillion other tunes since I'm a music junky. Returning to it today it still sounds great. It's a compilation taken from three late-80s albums, but to these ears it hasn't grown mouldy over the years; more like matured. If the post-industrial 'tribal' tropes are familiar, here they're used sparingly and add to the holistic atmosphere on some tracks (rather than the metal/bongo bashing psuedo-primitivism that often cropped up then when, you know, oiled young men would go 'native' in an effort to appear to be rejecting mechanised society in favour of 'real' urban ethnicity).

Multi-instrumental/tape mood music of the highest order.

Sun Ra - Space Aura (Art Yard)

This being the centenary year since Sun Ra's birth (May 22, 1914) we should see celebrations worldwide as cosmonautical sound-lovers rejoice in the music of the space master born to the name of Herman Blount. Expect a huge gathering in Birmingham, Alabama in an attempt to levitate the whole city just as the hippies tried with The Pentagon, only this time success is surely guaranteed, whereby the city will ascend through Earth's atmosphere on it's way to Saturn, I'm sure.

If claims for music's ability to 'transport' the listener have any truth Sun Ra is the prime example. Even Lady Gag nicked a line of his in a single last year (Rocket Number Nine)

Is nothing sacred?

Yes, Sun Ra's music.

I'd love to see more previously unissued music this year to mark the occasion, like this cracking E.P. on Art Yard. If you're new to  Sun Ra, this is a good place to start. People have often asked me 'where to begin' over the years and I've always tipped them back in time to the 50s albums because, whilst being far from conventional big band sounds, they shouldn't scare too many folk.

Space Aura comprises four tracks from 1966, the first being a piano solo, then things take off with the track Space Aura, a fine blowing session. On Song Of The Sparer Ra's clavioline-playing sings of sonic dreaming on a distant planet - sketches of Saturn. Exotic Forest's drum rattles and star-charming solo are superb. A must-have release.

Get the MP3 from here

The 'How To Sell Art Online' Series

'The images are neither abstract nor figurative. Depending on how you look at the images, they are not kitsch imaginary vistas or formal colour studies exploring different theories from a painter’s rulebook.

The most visually impressive canvases do not demonstrate the effectiveness of the simplest of painting theories: that a colour’s intensity varies depending on what frames it or surrounds it; light is only light when offset by dark, and vice versa. 

So what to make of these images, which appear to riff on the ‘death of painting’ debate – where do we find Timewriter's signature wit and droll take on pop culture? The first clue is his reductive emotions (angry, puzzled, etc): the result being that a story or dialogue takes place between the background colour and the mood expressed. The colour combinations are not complex and there are no emoticons to tell us how we should feel. The absence of a story is made alarming by the scale and intensity of the encounter without much colour on canvas. How far are our moods, our emotions, projected or simplified by our worlds, by pop culture in particular, Timewriter asks, and what happens to our identities when you take that away?

Contemplating the connected metaphors for Art and prostitution, one begins to see the images in a different light. These hypnotic vistas present aggressively anti-slick vacuity, are perhaps not visions of our possible suicides, but visions of our actual digitally mediated suicides. The delivery of the concept feels messy, and perhaps that’s the point: in a world where the pixel is king, pop culture has lost its punch. It is all very wry and very clever.' 

This article was first published in the December 2013 issue of Imaginary Art Review