I’ve started selling original prints, such as this new piece titled, “Hunter Kye.”
https://www.etsy.com/listing/150800905/hunter-kye-illustrated-print
There are more available in the shop. For those who I know personally, please feel free to contact me so you can by pass shipping.
Enya – Watermark 1988 WEA Records Ltd.
By Callisto Nerezza, May 9th, 2013
My favorite song on the album: On Your Shore
My favorite lyric on the album: “Soft, blue horizons reach far into my childhood days. As you are rising to bring me my forgotten ways.”
The Sensation of Touch
Looking at that cold water for an hour now, I’m relieved to say I just jumped in. Every second was just as majestic as I hoped and kind of knew it would be. She’s never let me down but sometimes she is daunting and distant. A little bit through the meadow, a tumble down the bank. I swear there’s fifty little ice rafts, drifting over the surface. And I’m seldom in the mood to be cold or wrought with chattering teeth. Come now… Ah, well, I suppose that is unfair because appearances aren’t everything. I’ve never known the river to be unpleasant by any degree; even though it keeps sailing over the bed below with no end ever. I suspect though, that it is not a river, but a moat. Yes, with an island in the center. The album loops skillfully with the landscape on either side, perfectly spliced to create the illusion of continuity. That word illusion is rather accusing I’m afraid and I wish to replace it with canvas. Watermark is painted with splashes of nymph laughter and the old sap from many different types of bark; so many textures to explore. And not to say that these thoughtful arrangements are incredibly estranged from one another. No, remember the success of her blending technique. Colors are so pretty and soft together here as I wade.
I’m fairly certain that I’ve never entered the water’s edge at the same place twice, so it doesn’t matter where one begins. “River” is where we’ll presently tread. Your ears are looking this way and that; not sure what they see. Great big eyes blink and then vanish and I’ll the while a bouncing creature, swooshes by on a moon, blue, tree swing. Slow goes the rope, and swift the faceless colt as you dodge his passes. You don’t really care what it is though because you expected such strange and wise motions to circle high above your head. Enya sings in Celtic sometimes too so it’s not necessary to have a clear foreground in your mind. Mine gets fuzzy and thin and then I walk back to my subconscious and visit there a while. The tone of each instrument is very intentional and smooth. This way, it feels less like music and more like hypnosis. That doesn’t mean you can’t listen in the car though. “Storms in Africa II” comes on and you’re on the horse, driving toward the sunrise. There is always something to look forward to because the tracks lift each other up, one after the other and into the clouds. I often throw a Watermark song into custom playlists for this very reason. They serve as excellent introductions to not only themselves but other good music as well.
Imagination is a mysterious and holy tool. It cannot be feigned or sought without passion. And yet it cannot be bullied and wrangled into submission. That is why Watermark is so spiritual. She stands in a constant state of true, transcending thought. I admire her as I would a phoenix preparing for take-off. The crimson plumage ordains a fierce animal both intimidating and alluring. But this solitary beast ultimately wants to share with us in her beauty and power. It is in her nature to be admired and branded “legendary” and “mysterious.” I would say that the disc falls just short of being frightening but I’m forgetting “Cursum Perficio.” It’s such a relief too because it’s so rare for an artist to capture ominous voices that deliver delightful shivers like these. And oh how the tender words of “On Your Shore” bring shivers; of a different kind. I cherish this portal into eternal vision as her soul cherishes and cries out for the figure moving in and out of our focus. Who is she missing and holding in such soft, sad reverence? It must be someone immortal and kind; someone who knows her.
“Cool waves wash over and drift away with dreams of youth. So time is stolen. I cannot hold you long enough.” To be understood is one of my deepest dreams. Like with true love, I wonder, “Have I ever felt it?” It’s one thing to be embraced and swept away by your equals; but to be fully known and yet still loved is amazing. Amazing in that it is too incredible to fathom; because he who knows you is not your equal. For in all transparency; you do not know yourself. And you certainly don’t know how much you need Watermark until you feel her up against your chest and know her to the depth of, “You are alive. You are alive because you have a heartbeat.” This rhythm is familiar to your own and thus you recognize its presence. Funny though, because until now, it seems you’d forgotten its very existence.
Been going at it hard lately and the second album is about half way finished. Papa beats me bull whip when I slack so wanted to shovel some proof out of my realm. ALSO, between shots, there are hidden and special boys and girl slowly churning in the crock pot. Brand new fingerprints on this discCCC. ;)
The Raveonettes – In and Out of Control
2009 Vice Music, Inc
By Callisto Nerezza, August 24th, 2012
My favorite song on the album: Wine
My favorite lyric on the album: “Don’t self destruct. Kill time with a baseball bat.”
Shut Up and Take It
Thick black lashes frame sinister eyes. She’s glaring at me from the passenger window of a ’51 Lincoln Cosmopolitan.“Get in the car.” I don’t know this woman. She knows I cannot resist her mysterious proposal. She motions for a dark figure in the back to open the door for me. I’m swirling in smoke and leather. She smells like dark chocolate and engine grease. Her driver peels out like a steady madman. At this moment, I realize there is going to be little regard for my safety or comfort this summer evening. But I am already certain of the strange wonder and delight that does await. She doesn’t seem to mind the wind blowing her satin hair into a spinning tumbleweed. No one answers my questions of destination or my attempts at light conversation. I can see they are talking in the front but it’s a miracle to me they can hear over the painfully screeching guitars. What is this they are listening to? It’s all I can think about now. These renegade racers are cool and they blast cool music. The lyrics are the only words to hang on. They say, “Don’t you realize? I long for your lips? Let me out of here.” And then… Slam! The rhythm pounds us up into the air, ripping branches off of downtown oaks. The beige steel is wrapped in power lines now and like them I find myself without the care to mind. If I died here, soaring above the country side with these beautiful bad people…
The album starts with, Bang! and immediately looses those hips. There is a certain type of dancing that The Raveonettes invite. Eyes closed. Playful. Gently seductive. And reckless abandon. It’s probably on account of the great combination, of fuzzy strums and very wet lead. Retro California comes to mind immediately and old black and white films aren’t far behind. As I’m swaying with the palm trees, I get this feeling that I’m missing out on something… somewhere. Like there is a place that embodies fully, the vibe I’m getting. Where jaded romantics get together to burn the past and dare to be daring. The music itself sounds almost familiar. And to be sure, it is. The duo proudly confesses their adoration for The Everly Brothers and The Ronettes. But this carefully blended batch of influences ends with a very distinct sound. The “noise” helps set the pieces apart from the surf tone rock. Most notably in “Break Up Girls!” which builds tremendously well into a nice jam. Not the typical intro one is used to but if you like scraping metal growls and scream bloody murder sustain then you will kiss this on the lips.
The good friend tough love advice is surprisingly welcome here. Posed as a question and healthily pointing to the victim in most cases, it just works. As a whole, In and Out of Control to me asks, “Why are you wasting your time with your poison when mine is so much more fun?” The punishments of love strike are worshiped and hung as trophies in the hotel lobby. So your heart is broken because you sold your soul for two seconds of false hope? Great. Perfect. Now run on back to Hell, punch Lilith in her smug face, use bolt cutters on the lock, grab your soul and come on back to sell it one more time. Repeat this until you’re de… Wait… Sorry… You will never die. I mean, it seems ridiculous the emphasis placed on steamy sensory thrills but I believe that all of The Raveonettes’ songs are meant to be taken as miniature carnival rides in which the hinges may or may not be up to code. As you wave your hands in the air during the quadruple loop of “Heart of Stone,” do not be alarmed if the excessive inertia launches you to your sticky pavement splatter demise. Seat belts are abominations. I didn’t step into the car for a smooth ride. I wanted to smell fear drip down my brow and see all the witches on their brooms, even if my pupils cursed me a thousand years for not turning away. I laugh at my whimpering ears as they bleed out all the gushing honey from treble peak spears. What does my body know of living? He needs to die first. Then he can live… as a pitiful ghost.
Ah, but if you’ve got real salt, you’ll wash up on shore. The pompous waves eventually tire of bullying you and spit you out into their lonely ash tray. I think you can take it from there. I left footprints.
We are performing at a Cafe Night hosted by Crossroads Church on Friday, June 29th. We will be starting at 6:30pm. This is a free event.
A cover of “Before the Throne of God Above” by us!
