Ainslie Henderson
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5/23/2009 1:08:23 PM
we are their midges, we are their mice.
The latest drunk mum album starts with panting and whooping and the noise of me and jos conjuring dizzy excitement. and then out of the noise of time in an artery comes a clowns' birthday party. sheep eating magic mushrooms and having a telepathic argument. one sheep is telling the other about the abattoir and the other sheep is saying 'you don’t scare me'. piss off. and then a pop song from outer space. a senile tambourine. Everything goes white grey, white, grey. and two train tracks sing an imaginary harmony. the power lines that shoot alongside you like laser beams when you're travelling on the train at 100 miles an hour, staring out the window, and they dip and weave and zip for you, like dolphins swimming alongside your boat. then for a few bars are as perfectly still in their moving as a well centred pot turning on the wheel. they plunge into the ground. Cells yearning. Swifts catching insects. Trees aware of us and our lives, blip. blip. blip. the life span of a human passing in what to them seems like days. We are their midges. We are their mice. The sound of fingernails growing, a microscopic microphone gathers and steals it, simmers it down and amplifies it a 1000 times, it tries to escape quickly back into the deep and is caught in a distortion box. like a fat slippery fish in an angler's hands. a radio remembering its first words, or finally escaping all stations and finding its own voice. Running over a frog with a lawnmowERRRRR. and having renewed faith in vegetarianism. Envy extracted from a heart like a tapeworm being wound round a pencil. a cow's nightmare. the ambition of an acorn. The noise of coca cola on children's teeth. well. well, a calendar asking when will tomorrow get here? a genetically engineered new emotion. monkey love experiments. the place that we find at about 24 minutes. god bless drunk mum. is noise unordered music? are drunk mum the greatest band in the world ever?, ever ever?, I heard someone say that art is paying attention. Yesterday a bus on a wet road passed me, I almost said out loud, 'oh, that sounded lovely'. It went ccccccaashhhhhhhhh. sssss. sssssss. sssssss. Like as above, so below at the end goes bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. shh.
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