Electronic Music Review

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A new addition at the Ubuweb archives that’s catnip for anyone interested in the history of electronic music. Electronic Music Review was Reynold Weidenaar & Robert Moog’s short-lived journal devoted to the world of electronic music at a time when the field was rapidly growing away from the academic, “serious” side of musical composition and being taken up by the pop world.

All seven issues are present, running from January 1967 to July 1968. Pages of VCF circuit diagrams aren’t so interesting unless you’re an electronic engineer but the magazines also feature unique articles from composers who are now very well known, including Luciano Berio, Frederic Rzewski, Tod Dockstader, Henri Pousseur, Alvin Lucier and Jon Appleton. Despite the many women working in the field they evidently didn’t go looking for any to write for them. Granted, Wendy Carlos is among the contributors but in the late 60s she was still using the name Walter. In the later issues, Dockstader, Carlos and others review the recent electronic music releases. It’s especially fascinating to see an early reaction to albums such as Morton Subotnik’s Silver Apples of the Moon, and the debut from The United States of America, a cult favourite of mine for many years.

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Scattered throughout the issues are ads for the latest studio gear and new album releases. One of these, The Nonesuch Guide to Electronic Music, was compiled by Paul Beaver and Bernard Krause. The latter is still recording, and happens to be interviewed in the current issue of Arthur Magazine.

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Brush of Baphomet by Kenneth Anger

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Another recent piece of Angeriana, and another short video sketch, Brush of Baphomet (2009) is a kind of addendum to Anger’s The Man We Want to Hang (2002), being a further look at Aleister Crowley’s paintings. The title refers to one of Crowley’s many occult names. As a painter Crowley’s technical ability was almost nil but that never dissuaded him from trying, and I’m sure I’m not alone in finding his work to have a naive malevolence. Anger has had a lifelong interest in Crowley’s paintings, famously journeying in 1955 to the abandoned villa in Cefalù, Sicily, where he cleaned whitewash from the walls to reveal the remains of the murals Crowley had painted there.

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The music in Brush of Baphomet is a surprising choice, an extract from the second part of Morton Subotnick’s Silver Apples of the Moon (1967). Anger’s musical selections have never been random ones so you have to wonder why this particular score. Was it because the electronics are reminiscent of the Moog drones Mick Jagger supplied for Invocation of My Demon Brother (1969)? Subotnick’s title is borrowed from The Song of Wandering Aengus by WB Yeats, a poet for whom Crowley (also a poet) had little affection. In Crowley’s occult novel Moonchild, Yeats appears as “Gates”, a mediocre painter (yes, well…), who ends up being killed in an act of magical revenge. Crowley must have been mortified a few years later when Yeats was awarded a Nobel Prize.

Previously on { feuilleton }
Anger Sees Red
Kenneth Anger’s Hollywood Babylon
Lucifer Rising posters
Externsteine panoramas
Missoni by Kenneth Anger
Anger in London
Arabesque for Kenneth Anger by Marie Menken
Edmund Teske
Kenneth Anger on DVD again
Mouse Heaven by Kenneth Anger
The Man We Want to Hang by Kenneth Anger
Relighting the Magick Lantern
Kenneth Anger on DVD…finally

Nothing Is

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1: Nothing Is… (1966), an album of science fiction jazz by Sun Ra.

What does the empty space of that ellipsis imply?

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2: Strawberry Fields Forever (1967), a single by The Beatles.

“Strawberry Fields / Nothing is real”

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Cover art by Sam Green.

3: Empty Space (2012), a science fiction novel by M. John Harrison.

Chapter 1: “Nothing is real,” he said.

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4: MBV (2013), an album by My Bloody Valentine which emerged from empty space at the weekend.

Track 8: Nothing Is.

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Golden apples and silver apples

Golden apples and silver apples

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The Wind Among the Reeds (1899). Cover design by Althea Gyles.

1: The Song of Wandering Aengus by WB Yeats.

I went out to the hazel wood,
Because a fire was in my head,
And cut and peeled a hazel wand,
And hooked a berry to a thread;
And when white moths were on the wing,
And moth-like stars were flickering out,
I dropped the berry in a stream
And caught a little silver trout.

When I had laid it on the floor
I went to blow the fire a-flame,
But something rustled on the floor,
And someone called me by my name:
It had become a glimmering girl
With apple blossom in her hair
Who called me by my name and ran
And faded through the brightening air.

Though I am old with wandering
Through hollow lands and hilly lands,
I will find out where she has gone,
And kiss her lips and take her hands;
And walk among long dappled grass,
And pluck till time and times are done,
The silver apples of the moon,
The golden apples of the sun.


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Illustration by Joe Mugnaini.

2: The Golden Apples of the Sun (1953), a story collection by Ray Bradbury.


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Cover design by William S. Harvey.

3: Golden Apples of the Sun (1962), the debut album by Judy Collins. The first track is her setting of The Song of Wandering Aengus.


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Cover design by William S. Harvey. Artwork by Anthony Martin.

4: The Silver Apples of the Moon (1967), an album of electronic music by Morton Subotnick.


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Artwork by Anonymous Arts.

5: Silver Apples (1968), an album of electronic music by Silver Apples.


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Art Direction by Sid Maurer. Artwork by Patrick.

6: HMS Donovan (1971), a double album of poems for children set to music by Donovan. The second song on side four is The Song of Wandering Aengus.


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Cover by Devendra Banhart.

7: The Golden Apples of the Sun (2004), a freak folk compilation selected by Devendra Banhart for Arthur magazine‘s Bastet label.

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The Golden Apples of the Sun

Third by Portishead

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It’s not exactly news that Portishead‘s long-awaited third studio album is released today, its arrival having been telegraphed for months. I’ve been a fan since I heard the first theremin-inflected strains of Mysterons back in 1994 so I’d been looking forward to this. After a hiatus of ten years the burden of expectation grows very heavy so it’s never a good idea to expect too much. Well this album isn’t a disappointment by any means; some parts are surprisingly placid after the abrasiveness of their second opus, other parts such as the new single, Machine Gun, pull that abrasiveness in new directions.

Rather than add to the deluge of reviews I’ll note a personal delight which is the track We Carry On, a fantastic Silver Apples pastiche augmented by Adrian Utley’s growling guitar. Being an aficionado of the handful of late Sixties groups that could be classed as electronic, it’s fun seeing Portishead chalk up another reference to that era’s rudimentary synth music. Something in the air in 1968 saw the release of several significant albums that mixed electronic sounds into psychedelia: Cauldron by Fifty Foot Hose, the self-titled album by The United States of America and the first album by Silver Apples. Portishead already sounded very much like Fifty Foot Hose to begin with, if Fifty Foot Hose had been listening to John Barry instead of Edgard Varèse. On the second Portishead album they dedicated Half Day Closing to The United States of America so it’s not at all surprising for them to borrow some rhythms from Silver Apples; forty years on it’s as though they’ve collected the set.

Now get over to YouTube and watch them play We Carry On live; it fucking rocks!

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Light in the west