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Archive for the ‘Marshall Yarbrough’ Category

SOUNDTRACK: MILLY-“Star Thistle Blossom” (2020).

I saw Milly open for Swervedriver last year. I really enjoyed their angular shoegaze style.  At the time, milly only had one EP out. They are about ready to release a new one, and this is the first song from it.  You can check it out on their bandcamp page).

As I listened to it, i thought it sounded familiar.  And that’s because they played it when I saw them.  I really liked it a lot–the juxtaposition of pretty picked notes and alternating rocking angular chords, was really great.  Brendan Dyer’s vocals work perfectly in the shoegaze style and the backing harmonies are spot on.

I love at the two minute mark how most of the song drops out but for drums and guitar punctuated by a few power chords every few seconds.  The instrumental ending is perfect–grungey chords in a catchy melody and an abrupt ending.  I’m really looking forward to the rest of the EP.

[READ: October 2, 2020] “After Midnight”

This was a puzzling excerpt from Wondratschek’s novel Self-Portrait with Russian Piano (translated by Marshall Yarbrough).

The narrator is addressing you, the person who asked him is he continues to play his piano.

But his hands are bored and his heart is worn out (to say nothing of his legs).

He explains that he found a holy silence when he began to love music–not that he could ever understand music.

Maybe he always wanted to play for angels–to make them appear in his apartment. Maybe a holy calling would justify his playing an instrument since no one else in his family did–nor did they think much of it.

That far away from Moscow, artists were a figment of the imagination.  The horse that drew the plow was not, neither was poverty, nor the ground in which so little grew.

He has few visitors, except for a young violinist.  Her father was a friend of the piano player and she has has a lot of success.  They discuss music and he offers advice.  She compliments him and says no one plays like he does.  She wishes to play with him.

He can’t help but wonder, doesn’t she smell the scent of failure on him in his old age?

He is tried and cannot abide her for long.

He can no longer stay up until the right time to make music.

Well before midnight I’m finished as a human being and fall into bed.  At what woul dbe the right time for making music, I’m snoring…But who would dare take the risk of allowing a concert to begin after midnight?  Even with free admission it wouldn’t work.

This story could also go in many directions once this scene is over.

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