Magick. Motherhood. Pain. Suffering. Blood. Tension. Nausea. Desire. Obsession. Addiction. Loathing. Violence. The loss of hope. Unfulfilled dreams. Unhealed wounds.
SOME THINGS HAVE TO BE ENDURED.
The latest offering from NY synth-death master Theologian (aka Leech, also the mastermind behind the renowned power electronics/death industrial outfit Navicon Torture Technologies), “Some Things Have To Be Endured” features eight new tracks of punishing black industrial, apocalyptic darkwave frequencies, and nerve-rending electronic deathscapes. “Endured” is a collection of collaborations between Theologian and a lineup of female vocalists/artists from both within the industrial / noise / dark ambient / coldwave realm and beyond, with contributions from Rachael Kosak(Hecate), Kristen Rose (Sewer Goddess), Rachel Maloney (Tonikom), Nikki Telladictorian (Prometheus Burning), Patricia Benitez (Fetish Drone), Gillian Leigh Bowling (Teloahqaal), Christiana Key (Delphic Oracle), Joan Hacker(Factoria), Shari Vari (Void Vision), and professional opera singer Melissa C. Kelly. The tracks shift from grinding industrial dread to ethereal coldwave beauty, blasts of rumbling blackened synthcrush met with washes of haunting electronic melody, while always remaining rooted in Theologian’s bleak, jet-black industrial sound. Co-produced with Derek Rush/DREAM INTO DUST and mastered by James Plotkin, “Some Things Have To Be Endured” contains some of the most moving and dramatic music to emerge from Theologian’s black sonic abyss, and the cover comes adorned with striking photography by Ione Rucquoi that makes this one of the more visually arresting releases in Theologian’s growing catalog.
due to excessive unchillness of 4th of July, Vegetative State (VS4) will move to the second Thursday of July (July 11). this will b a super lowkey VS — no guests, minimal accessories — as we prepare for an xtra special VS5 on August 1, when we move back to 1st Thursdays.
as soon as we can confirm, we will announce, but expect new heights for vegetative state, new growth, new blooms, fresh fruit
a skeletal, severely abbreviated fraction of autobiography. reading more like excerpted annotated outlines of a memoir, barely stretching just over a hundred pages padded with ample textless chapter divisions etc. worth it for the inimitable Chet Baker deadpan —near catatonic— stoicism that somehow, in its seemingly para-human indifference and detachment, conveys such an elevated sensitivity, psychic fragility and diffuse air of melancholy and portent that only such impassivity could delicately enough carry. and also for vignettes like these:
[of his experience aboard a troopship bound for Germany after enlisting in the Army illegally at 16] There was vomit everywhere, you could not escape the smell of it no matter where you went on the ship. Since there wasn’t anything alcoholic to drink, some of the guys mixed Aqua Velva with fruit juice. Everyone was getting loaded and fighting. Some went blind from the noxious aftershave mixture. Altogether, it was a trip I could not easily forget.
I spent a couple of weeks at her apartment, but unfortunately some joker ripped off the door of her Corvette when I was using the car. He didn’t even stop. We had a few words about that, and fought about some other things as well. It all ended in my telling her to get fucked.
[of being brought to court on drug charges in England] I really couldn’t take the whole thing seriously. All those seemingly pompous fools with their white wigs. Needless to say, I was found guilty by his lordship.
despite its brevity, a satisfying, shimmering glimpse into imo one of the top 5 most compelling voices in all recorded music (and pretty standard mid-century jazz-genius-junkie archetype). for a longer look, a couple biographies are supposed to be good, but u prob cant do better than this.
Once upon a time, in some out of the way corner of that universe which is dispersed into numberless twinkling solar systems, there was a star upon which clever beasts invented knowing.
That was the most arrogant and mendacious minute of “world history,” but nevertheless, it was only a minute. After nature had drawn a few breaths, the star cooled and congealed, and the clever beasts had to die.
One might invent such a fable, and yet he still would not have adequately illustrated how miserable, how shadowy and transient, how aimless and arbitrary the human intellect looks within nature. There were eternities during which it did not exist. And when it is all over for the human intellect, nothing will have happened.”