Fred Moten – Reading
Fred Moten
African American history, avant-garde jazz riffs and activism intertwine in experimental verse of extraordinary and affecting beauty that has to be heard.
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African American history, avant-garde jazz riffs and activism intertwine in experimental verse of extraordinary and affecting beauty that has to be heard.
Somewhere between performance, stripped down theatre and an intense kind of public learning or maybe even a public hearing.
Ecstatic, intensely joyous experimental club music: like “the sound of our water ceremonies…40 bands playing their melodies at once to recreate the cacophony of the first aurora and the call of the morning star Venus”.
Akio Suzuki and John Butcher performing in a remote sea cave near Durness.
No Wave, damaged garage jams and crazed instant vocal shrieks.
Merzbow takes the junk of sound and transforms it into blistering noise assaults with an incredible spectrum and impact.
“Hidden in the hands an alluvial transcription of reach and embrace. The final flickers of the body’s expression, caress and touch.” – boychild
Dworkin asks: What would a non-expressive poetry look like? A poetry of intellect rather than emotion?
A concrete walkway ending in mid air, a ridiculously tight squeeze between three office buildings and various other sites of Labour politician and council leader T. Dan Smith’s modernist regeneration projects and ‘slum clearances’ of the 1950’s and 60’s.
Profound mathematical ideas for romantics, to help us linger in the difference we share.
Black Boned Angel’s is a rock sound, stripped of all extraneous detail right down to its core, stretched out and nailed to the ceiling.
Come for the crip ingenuity; stay for the smooth feels of what it is to be each other’s everything.