Monthly Archives: May 2022

Death Grips have hinted at their return by teasing the arrival of new music.

Earlier today (May 12), the group shared a short, 15-second clip of new music on their social media channels.

The short video, which you can see bellow, feature a flashing light and a moth leaving some hands with an overlay of trance music.

The groups last music release came in 2019 via Gmail And The Restraining Orders Mix as part of an anniversary collection for Warp Records.

Back in February, Death Gripsunveiled a collection of clothing that features the album artwork for 2012s No Love Deep Web. The cover of the bands second studio album was notable for its sexually explicit imagery.

The capsule collection from Vetememes and Rough Simmons featured Death Grips uncensored No Love Deep Web artwork on items like parkas and sweatshirts. Conveniently, they all come with a removable magnetic censor bar.

Elsewhere in the same collection, there were items featuring the American rapper Viper. The clothing is being billed as officially licensed Death Grips merchandise, with all proceeds going to the band. Check out the collection here.

Last May, Zach Hill shared the debut single from his new group, Undo K From Hot, titled 750 Dispel. Writing on Instagram, Hill said: I have a new group called Undo K From Hot and shared the songs artwork and groups new Instagram account. Its the second track on their debut album, G.A.S. Get A Star which arrived on May 7, 2021.

Meanwhile, the previous month, Danny Elfman shared a new version of his track Kick Me remixed by Hill. I was a big fan of Death Grips and Zach Hills work, and so appreciative to have him jump in with his creative energy, Elfman said of the track.

Death Grips last album was 2018sYear of the Snitch.

See the article here:

Death Grips hint at return and tease new music - NME

The Northman is loosely based on the Norse mythology about a young Viking prince named Amleth, in Vita Amlethi. The story is about how Amleth manages to avenge the death of his father, King Aurvandil, who was killed by his brother, Fjlnir. Inspired by Nordic literature and lifestyle, the film comes up with an original story that would be fitting for the Viking age. What makes The Northman overtly believable is the research that went into getting the visual details right, be it the way people lived in Iceland during the time or the fact that many Vikings escaped the regulations and traveled from Scandinavian countries to Iceland. The Viking Icelandic settlements were studied for their rightful depiction in the film.

Amleth had witnessed the beheading of his father, King Aurvandill, by his brother, Fjolnir. He had only one purpose in life from then on: he wanted to kill Fjolnir. It was the desire to seek revenge that kept him alive. After running away from the Kingdom of Hrafnsey, Amleth had grown to be a Viking berserker. The berserkers were warriors who ransacked settlements, and they drew their maddening power from the bears and wolves. The night before the attack, they would indulge in a trance ritual wearing skins of the animals. They would mimic the movements and sounds of the bears and wolves, and as the day would break, they would enter the villages camouflaging themselves with the animal skins and ultimately revealing their intentions. One particular scene that perfectly described the barbarians during the act was when Amleth tore the flesh off an armed man to kill him. During the raid, it was about transforming themselves into animals and murdering humans at will. According to Norse mythology, it is said that the berserkers shapeshifted into animals and won battles for themselves.

The seers were an integral part of the Viking era. They enjoyed a high status during that time for their ability to foretell the future. Their eyes were sewn shut; even though they could not see the physical reality, they had the power to look at both the past and the future. At night, when Amleth met with a seeress at the temple of Odin in the village they raided, she recognized him. She knew it was Prince Amleth, even though the world thought he was dead. She reminded him of the revenge he had to take and how he could get closer to his motive. She advised him to cross the ocean and reach the edge of the world to land on an island where he would meet a vixen. He had to follow its tail, and he would reach the place where he could find a sword that was designed to destroy his enemy. This revelation of the plot much before Amleth started his journey reflects the power that the seeress held. The Seeresses were known for practicing an ecstasy technique called the Seid to travel through time to reveal secrets.

After his confrontation with his mother, Gudrun, she revealed how cowardly King Aurvandill was as a husband. Amleth was shocked to learn the truth about her mother, who confessed to loving Fjolnir and wanting the death of Amleth. In that moment of fury, Amleth murdered Fjolnirs elder son, Thorir. The funeral ceremony that followed Thorirs death demonstrates the burial customs of the Viking age. Thorir was given a ship burial where his body was laid on a boat, and he was offered all that he required to make the journey to his after-life smooth, which also included sacrificing enslaved people. We witness a slave girl joining Thorir in the boat, indicating how she was sacrificing her life for her master. She joined him to serve him in his after-life as well.

In the concluding scene, Amleth, before dying, envisioned his wife and his two children. They were happy and safe. It was his sacrifice that protected them from the evil that could destroy their lives. According to his vision and the words of the seeress, his daughter would grow up to be a maiden king. He fought his enemies in the present time to protect his daughter, who had a bright future ahead. In the end, Olga tells him to cross the passage. The journey every warrior hopes to make after losing their lives on the battlefield. It was considered the highest honor to die on the battleground, as that meant that they would have a place in Valhalla. According to Norse mythology, Valhalla is a royal hall that is located in Asgard, which is ruled by Odin. Valhalla translates to the hall of the slain. Amleth was at peace when he was carried on a winged horse by the Valkyries. The Valkyries were female figures who guided the Nordic warriors to the majestic hall of the slain.

See More: The Northman Ending, Explained: Did Almeth Avenge His Fathers Death? Is Almeth Dead Or Alive?

See more here:

Is 'The Northman' Based On A True Story? What Do The Viking Practices Shown In The Film Signify? | DMT - DMT

Death of a Santoor

To Ustad Zakir Hussain

When I heard the master of santoor isNo more, I played his jugalbandi with youOn the tabla, the strings in vilambit layaFelt like droplets of water on the grass,I could hear the flight of a grasshopper.Nature spoke to nature. We are hereTo listen, the nature of each instrumentMerges with the nature of another,And music is born. You join him midwayLike a ship sets sail to the tempo of wind.What were you telling each other? This isAll there is? Tat Tvam Asi: Thou art that,You are each other. The sound of yourHands in trance, this is all that remains ofHistory, this is what heals the bloodThat flows in the absence of music. YourNames bring your gods together, theyHear you like children before the wordWas born, you play on. Fishes in the bloodNibble on the flesh, old landscapes dieBefore the eyes, time gently goes to sleep.

[The death of the eminent santoor player, Pandit Shiv Kumar Sharma, marked the end of an era in Indian classical music. He had singularly popularised the gentle string instrument, the santoor, worldwide. He played along with some of the finest classical musicians in India and abroad. Sharma, long with the flutist, Pandit Hari Prasad Chaurasia, also composed music briefly for some romantic musicals in Indian cinema. Sharma also played memorable jugalbandi (duets) with Ustad Zakir Hussain, the legendary tabla player. The photograph of Hussain standing alone near the pyre at Sharmas funeral, seeing his old friend and fellow musician depart from this world, was a poignant and touching reminder of love and friendship in an atmosphere of hatred and violence. This tribute to the late maestro is dedicated to his friend, Zakir Hussain, and their performances together.]

Manash Firaq Bhattacharjee is a poet, writer and political science scholar. He is the author ofThe Town Slowly Empties: On Life and Culture during Lockdown(Headpress, Copper Coin, 2021),Looking for the Nation: Towards another Idea of India(Speaking Tiger, 2018), andGhalibs Tomb and Other Poems(London Magazine Editions, 2013).

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Poem: Death of a Santoor - The Wire

oday marks the first death anniversary of a man who in life was larger than life: Tahir Wadood Malik, my dear husband, known amongst his loved ones as TWM.

Its a day Ive dreaded, through sleepless nights and agonising days. But it has arrived, as a reminder of the horrifying two and a half weeks we experienced together after being diagnosed with Covid-19, till the last message I received from him before he was put on the ventilator.

He never returned. Since then, life hasnt been the same for me. The days and nights arent the same, home isnt the same, our pets arent the same.

He was not a typical fauji with a broad chest and a thick mustache; he possessed a very sensitive heart. He was a man who had the patience to hear the opposing views and argue with logic. He was a living encyclopedia of history and culture, whod go into a trance every time mystic music was played. He was a voice for those who had lost their loved ones to terrorism. He was also Uncle KFC to kids!

We often say that life leads us where we least expected to go. Widowhood is one such territory. From the minute youre widowed, people expect you to feel, behave and react the socially acceptable way. They preach and try to mould you, your appearance, and your state of mind as per their norms. They dont understand that the iddat period is meant not only to confirm whether you are pregnant but also for you to process grief. It can last longer than the prescribed four and a half months. Sometimes the grief can last an eternity. They claim that they are with you but soon will fade away from the picture, abandoning you with piles of official documents, societal pressures, in deep legal waters, and wading through a patriarchal system, especially if you are beginning to take charge of things.

In this turmoil, you try to start living your life, because that is the only option. You start doing things for the first time without your beloved. This past year has been the year of such firsts for me. This fact makes the period all the more difficult. Memories can drain you emotionally and physically. As you wash the bed sheets which he last slept in, and clean the toothbrush he used, and feel his clothes hung in the cupboard that still smell of him, and the last cigar that touched his lips these things become permanent for you.

Sadly, very few friends understood how much it hurt, and fewer still said that I should take the time I needed to move on with life.

You go through stages of grief without really recognising them. The unfortunate part is that there arent any support groups to speak of. So, you are expected to bemoan and grieve briefly, and then snap out of it, because the very people who lent you a shoulder to cry on have tired of listening to your sob story or having to repeat their part over and over.

They will also judge you if you try to return to life. If you have a child, youll be told that you should feel blessed, without realising how difficult it is to be a single parent. As for those who are issueless, they are expected to thank God, as if not having a child makes moving on in life any easier.

My experience has been no different. Soon after his death, I received a call from a friend based in Dubai. She said, You cannot live there any longer. Tell me how we can get you out of there.

I did not take her concern seriously, but today I do understand what she meant.

The writer is a freelance journalist

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A year of firsts - The News International

The date was June 11 2005. It was a Saturday night and judging by these photos, it was packed. But were you there? Dave Pearce and his team took these photos and have kindly allowed us to publish them to recapture memories of fun times. And if you fancy reliving those clubbing days of the noughties theres a chance to do so on June 2. Back to the Old Pool is presenting Syndicate Thursdays Reunion at Blackpool's Trilogy Nightclub. Dave Pearce will be there with Nalin and Kane, Lost Witness, Divine Inspiration and Jason Fubar. Full of all the club classics, hard dance and trance.

Happy days for these two

Photo: Dave Pearce

The Syndicate nightclub, Blackpool

Photo: Christian Blake

Enjoying Blackpool's superclub

Photo: Dave Pearce

Crowds packed on the revolving dancefloor

Photo: Dave Pearce

Link:

The Syndicate: 18 picture memories from a night out at Blackpool's superclub - were you there? - Blackpool Gazette

DETROIT When a man is lost, sings Betty Shabazz, Malcolm Xs wife, does the sky bleed for him, or does the sunset ignore his tears?

The start of a smoldering aria, these words may be the most poetic and poignant in Anthony Daviss opera X: The Life and Times of Malcolm X. Especially poignant because, for several decades, X, too, has been ignored.

The work, with a libretto by Thulani Davis, the composers cousin, from a story by his brother, Christopher Davis, premiered in the mid-1980s, first in Philadelphia and, officially, at New York City Opera. And then largely silence.

For the past 36 years, it has been more talked about than heard. (An excellent studio recording from 1992 is now out of print.) And it was obvious, at the opening of a new production on Saturday at the Detroit Opera House, what X gains from being taken in live: Its stretches of incantation turn into something like a sacred rite.

In these passages, over carpets of complex, repeating rhythms in the orchestra, the ensemble chants short lines Africa for Africans, Betrayal is on his lips, Freedom, justice, equality again and again, building and overlapping. The opera is at its best in these long swaths of music poised between churning intensity and stillness. Without copying the prayer practices of Malcolms Muslim faith, the work evokes them.

Bringing X back to the stage is a coup for Detroit Opera, which has recently rebranded itself after 50 years as Michigan Opera Theater, inaugurating a new era under the artistic leadership of Yuval Sharon.

Sharon came to prominence as the founder of the experimental Los Angeles company the Industry, and he is swiftly bringing ambitious, inventive programming to Detroit, like a Gtterdmmerung in a parking garage and a La Bohme whose four acts are played in reverse. The field is noticing what hes up to: As part of a widespread effort to belatedly present more works by Black composers and librettists, this X will travel to the Metropolitan Opera (in fall 2023), Lyric Opera of Chicago, Opera Omaha and Seattle Opera.

In biopic style, the libretto sketches an outline of a short but eventful life: the murder of Malcolms father when Malcolm is a boy in Lansing, Mich.; his mothers mental breakdown; his move to live with his half sister in Boston, where he falls in with a fast crowd and ends up in prison; his jailhouse conversion to the teachings of Elijah Muhammad and the Nation of Islam; the success of his Black nationalist ministry; his rift with Muhammad over tactics; his pilgrimage to Mecca; and the glimmers of a more universalist ideology of peace and racial unity, which he barely gets a chance to expound before his assassination in 1965, at just 39.

All this is conveyed in the heightened register of opera. Even the dialogue is pithy and exalted: I come from a desert of pain and remorse. The music is varied and resourceful; Davis won a Pulitzer Prize in 2020 for his most recent opera, The Central Park Five, but X is a deeper score.

It begins in a mournful, noirish mood, the moments of anxiety flirting with blues and subtle swing. Guided sensitively by the conductor Kazem Abdullah, the music goes on to swerve from punchy modernism to lyrical lushness, from peaceful worship to nervous energy and stentorian forcefulness.

An essay in the program describes how Daviss original contract specified that the word jazz should not be used in any connection with this piece, though an innovation here was to embed an improvising ensemble within a traditional orchestra. This works smoothly, as when a saxophone aptly depicts Malcolms new life in big-city Boston, or when a wailing, longing trumpet accompanies prayer in Mecca. The prisoners choral dirge is heated by squeals of brass, smoking underneath; along with Bettys enigmatically tender aria, this is the most intriguing music of the opera.

The new production, directed by Robert OHara (Slave Play), has a unit set, by Clint Ramos, that evokes the partly ruined Audubon Ballroom in Harlem, where Malcolm was killed. (The mountain pass mural painted on the back wall of the ballrooms stage depicts an idyll that seems like its almost taunting the operas characters.)

Above hover some big, swooping curves, used as a projection screen for textures, animated designs and a scrolling list of names of victims of white violence, before and after Malcolm. The staging is inspired by Afrofuturism, the attempt to conceive new often fanciful, sometimes celestial circumstances for a people suffering under crushing oppression.

Imagine a world where Marcus Garveys Black Star Line is a spaceship, OHara writes in a program note, referring to the Back to Africa movement in which Malcolms parents participated. But it is when the curves take on the literal flashing lights of such a ship that things turn a bit risible, conjuring the vessel in E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial more than noble dreams of escape and revision.

More effective is the introduction of four male dancers their sinuous choreography is by Rickey Tripp who snake through the production, sometimes as guardian angels looking over Young Malcolm (Charles Dennis), sometimes as squiggly punctuation to scenes. The spare flexibility that OHara introduces mostly works, even if the librettos specificity of place and situation gets sacrificed in this more abstract vision. Malcolms basic progress is still clear less so the particulars of where he is and to whom, exactly, hes speaking. The result, not unpleasantly, is more dream ballet than CNN.

Malcolm, though, still wears his distinctive browline glasses. He is played here with superb control by the bass-baritone Davne Tines, steady, calm and committed in both his physical presence and grounded voice, with a fiery core that seethes in his main aria, I would not tell you what I know, at the end of Act I.

As Malcolms mother and his wife, the soprano Whitney Morrison sings with mellow strength. Charming as Street, who spiffs up Malcolm in Boston, the tenor Victor Ryan Robertson largely handles Elijah Muhammads muscular high lines but strains to convey his magnetism.

X sometimes hypnotizes but sometimes sags. Like Philip Glasss Satyagraha, about Gandhis early years in South Africa, the opera is conceived as a steadily progressing account of a historical figures ideological evolution, dispensing with traditional dramatic tension. The main human conflict, between Malcolm and Elijah, is only lightly touched on; its not the plot.

Satyagraha, though, fully gives itself over to stylization, its Sanskrit text detached from the action, its scenes pageantlike. The music and libretto of X, by contrast, keep promising crackling drama without quite delivering; there can be a sense of falling between the stools of trance-like repetition and standard storytelling.

Scattered throughout are interludes that musically feel like vamping and that offer little obvious pretext for action. After so many years, the creators seem to have perceived the need to do something with these expanses We have added a few lines of singing in places that were musical interludes, Thulani Davis writes in the program but they remain, and sap the energy.

Still X, for all its obvious admiration for its subject, is admirably resistant to mawkishness or melodrama, particularly in avoiding an operatic death scene: At the end, Malcolm takes the podium in the Audubon Ballroom and briefly greets his audience in Arabic. Then theres a blackout as gunfire rings out.

For all the talk of spaceships and a better tomorrow, it is an inescapably stark conclusion. There will always be gifted, visionary boys and men, the work seems to say in this new staging, but their futures are hardly assured.

X: The Life and Times of Malcolm X

Through May 22 at the Detroit Opera House; detroitopera.org.

The rest is here:

Review: After 36 Years, a Malcolm X Opera Sings to the Future - The New York Times