Black Vines
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epicharmus.bsky.social
Black Vines
@epicharmus.bsky.social
160 followers 110 following 990 posts
Exhausting veteran of 27 years' worth of internet. I still invented liveblogging.
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Good Reasons for Stubbornness: THE METS; the second run of Marclay's The Clock at MoMA; linden trees in bloom; Bogue Profumo's MEM and Serge Lutens' Tubéreuse Criminelle; The Planet Crafter; physical therapy; new pants that fit right; @centuriesofsound.bsky.social's mixes always always always.
Back on my bullshit.
I care so much about these 12 shows (a recreation of a 2013 Spotify playlist dedicated to the music of the year 150) that in my will, I'll be deputizing a family to maintain my Mixcloud account and keep it un-fucked-with. I might re-record the intro, though: it sounds fucking awful.
Today I've uploaded a slightly extended version, padded with a spoken-word section. Here's a new playlist with all twelve parts intact again: if you want to avoid my yakking on part #1 and get to the music, just skip to 8:15: www.mixcloud.com/epicharmus/p...
Mixcloud Go! 1950: The Bomb In The Heart Of The Century
www.mixcloud.com
Last year, I discovered the first installment of my beloved overview of the music of 1950, Mixcloud GO! 1950: The Bomb in the Heart of the Century, had been removed from Mixcloud because it was less than 15 minutes long.
Maybe you can see further than I can see.
Maybe things all just look differently.
In *Two-Headed Doctor: Listening For Ghosts in Dr. John's Gris-Gris*, David Toop identifies the album as the center of all music, the nexus from which everything arrives at and flows from. You only wish your favorite album could receive this kind of loving scrutiny.
Because of this (and many other reasons), MoMA’s recent emphasis on art outside the canon I knew as a youth is a blessing. That stuff is less freighted. I can see it without jaded eyes.
I’ve known MoMA for so long, and so intimately, that it’s become a memorial for me—a memorial of a life, an art world, a New York, an America I cannot retrieve. This even though the museum scarcely resembles the one I knew as a teenager.
Come see *The Clock* with me.
My late father took me to see MoMA’s Richard Serra retrospective in 1986. The museum feels like a memorial now.
Also digging this. Thank you, J*mash*p, for stocking the pre-"Come Together" version oh so briefly.
In the early '80s, António Variações was in the running for the being the all-time queerest musician to ever record for a major label; this in an era with some pretty fucking intense competition. This is his last TV show appearance. He'd be dead in six months.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=6YkR...
António Variações última atuação em televisão.
YouTube video by Ismael Cristiano
www.youtube.com
Fragrances to kill for: Clinique's Calyx (fruity florals); Serge Lutens' Dans le Bleu qui Pétille (a heady amber? for the summer?!?! yes!!!); Pineward's Ivymoss (IFRA wouldn't approve); and Lorenzo Pazzaglia's Sugar Kisses (a major exception to my loathing of dessert gourmands and "sexy" vanillas).
I'm sorry, I'm alive, I still love you, but social media makes me plotz right now. If you'd like a chat, my real official email is epicharmus followed by the g and the mail and the dot and the com.
Just flipping through the profusely illustrated macropædia entry on art felt like a exciting, exhausting journey.
I gave it more use than my entire family did combined, by several powers of ten, mainly because even with a school library and public library in town, the Brittanicas were often the most convenient source of info for more arcane obsessions of mine, like astrology and modern architecture.