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Running Time: 5:02 Released On: "Gordon's Way" - Various Artists (10 tracks) Label: EFSPACM (Ensemble For Sound Poetry And Contemporary Music) Release Date: 3rd December 2020 Format: Download Buy Link: Bandcamp Video Album (Playlist): You Tube
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| Another new 'label' for us in a sense, although the Ensemble For Sound Poetry And Contemporary Music is actually a group of creative artistes who work together, mostly via a Facebook group, in different combinations, to produce albums, videos, whatever. The group is by and large administrated by Volker Störtebeker, Piotr Szreniawski and our good friend, Mr. Eel (whilst run on a very co-operative basis, I hasten to add), whose invitation got us involved in the first place. It took us a while to find our feet, it's quite different | to any other Facebook group we've been invited to join, certainly a zero tolerance for any kind of self-promotion, as we found out early on. But once you understand it for what it is, a network of people who want to make art for its own sake, it's value becomes immediately obvious. Though I confess that neither Skit nor myself still have the vaguest clue as to exactly what sound poetry is! The first project we got directly involved with was November's. I'll let the man from Toronto himself explain; | |||||
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"Hello everyone ! I am Gordon Way (DJ Anyway). I was graciously invited to present a soundless video to inspire EFSPACM members to create a soundtrack to accompany the images…… sounds, music, voice…. whatever. You are the music director! I call this video: 'Nothing Needs Explaining'. But you can call it whatever you want. Give it a title. There is a START…there is a FINISH. People come and go. Journeys are taken into memories… moods…. minds. Tell us a story with your soundtrack. Thank you for participating. I am excited to hear what you come up with!!" EFSPACM had posted a link to the video, so Skit and I sat down with a shandy and a packet of crisps to watch. It had a somewhat trippy avant garde feel to it, a quite surreal string of consciousness, a lysergic film noir, a Bogart like figure stumbling through an alleyway, quite disconnected from the real world, clearly (to us, at least) harbouring a dark and disturbing secret. We decided to explore the nature of that secret. For our soundtrack, we created backing rhythms from loops of a sample made from an old microphone with a poor connection. For the 'actors', back to the internet and its voice generators. As a film noir, the man needed to be an American, that much was obvious. The doctor, I felt, Indian, I think harking back to my teens, my first ever psychiatrist was Indian, a Dr. Mirza as I recall. "You are your own worst enemy." He would tell me in his heavy Gujarati accent, frequently, "How does that make you feel?" We allowed the script to develop with the video, not particularly knowing where it was going to. But ultimately, we soon came to realise, the only place the story could end was here. |
O Man: So I'm walking through an alleyway Doctor: Tell me, what do you see? Man: So I'm walking through an alleyway. I have no idea where I am. What I am. Who I am. Doctor: How does that make you feel? Man: Who I am. Doctor: Who you am. Man: There are ghosts. You know what I am saying? Doctor: Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. Man: Yes! There are ghosts in my head. I think they are people I used to be, before I came here to this place. Before I crossed the line. Oh, fuck this. Doctor: Fuck this. Man: Fuck this. Doctor: Fuck this. Man: Fuck this. Doctor: Fuck this. Man: Fuck this. I can still see her face, it's like she watches me from the other side. Doctor: How does that make you feel? Man: So many faces, accusing me. Doctor: Accusing you. Man: What have I done? Doctor: Accusing you. Man: What have I done? Doctor: Accusing you. Man: I'm damned. Doctor: How does that make you feel? Man: Guilty, that's why I called you. Hello, may I speak to Dr. Patel? Doctor: How may I help you? Man: It's those girls, the heads, it was me, I did it. Doctor: How does that make you feel? Man: I am not real. I am a construct. I do not belong here. Doctor: The only place you belong is here. |
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