UK ATP to be edited show
Mar/10/10 07:38 AM
Talking Light will literally become Talking “Lite” for the only UK show (on the spring tour) as the show will have to be pared down to 60 minutes from its usual 110. This is because seven acts will be crammed onto the stage that day in the usual chaotic festival format. A suspected victim could even be the iconic piece, “Talking Light” which sets the mood for the show’s outlook on aging and death. Festival goers are likely to not really care so I suppose it doesn’t matter.
European Tour Schedule (complete)
Mar/02/10 06:57 AM
April 27 - Le Cargo Caen France
April 28 - Ancienne Belgique Brussels Belgium
April 29 - Voxhall Aarhus Denmark
April 30 - no show
May 1 - Bergenfest, Bergen Norway
May 2 - Sentrum Oslo Norway
May 3 - no show
May 4 - Centrum Sztuki IMPART Wrozlaw Poland
May 5 - Laznia Nowa Krakow Poland
May 6 - Huxley's Berlin Germany
May 7 - no show
May 8 - ATP Festival UK
May 9 - Paard van Troje Dem Haag Holland
May 10 - Fabrik - Hamburg Germany
May 11 - Das Bett - Frankfurt Germany
May 12 - Teatro Miela Triesta Italy
May 13 - Teatro San Raffaele Rome Italy
May 14 - Estragon Bologna Italy
May 15 - Teatro Leonardo Milan Italy
May 16 - Nuits Sonores Festival Lyon France
Goatie supplies story info
Feb/20/10 03:22 PM
Want to
know what story appears in which show? Goatie has
done the footwork for you and supplies the necessary
data. Find it by clicking on the TALKING LIGHT SHOW
INFO over on the right side ---->
Or click here.
Or click here.
Talking Light Essay
Feb/20/10 10:13 AM
Big
Brother rambles on and on about Talking Light in his
latest visit to
The Last Word. It can
be found here.
http://residents.com/historical/page287/page354/page354.html
http://residents.com/historical/page287/page354/page354.html
Feb/20/10 07:40 AM
Quite Possibly the Strangest Band in Rock and
Roll
By JON LONGHI
An old man stumbles around a dingy psychedelic living room in a fever dream.
To either side of him sit strange creatures hunched over their electronic equipment, spidery plastic dreadlocks hanging over big black goggles covering their dim leather faces.
Behind them flicker discs of light and dark shifting purple shapes. The air fills with the sound of creepy drum machines and circus freak show keyboards.
A guitar erupts like the scream of a tortured animal. The melody is ugly yet somehow beautiful: a sure sign. This is a Residents show.
No one knows who The Residents are. No one has ever seen their faces.
For forty years they have only performed in elaborate, grotesque costumes like giant eyeball heads in dancing tuxedos.
We don't know exactly how many people are, or have been, in the band. We don't even know their genders.
But one thing is certain, no other band makes music like theirs.
The Residents may well be the strangest band in rock and roll. Their history has been one of unrelenting freakishness.
From their clashing horn sections to Snakefinger's twisty guitar, their albums stand mutated and unique.
Bowie may have claimed to be from outer space, but it wasn't till I heard songs like “Easter Woman” and “Constantinople” that I realized aliens had actually landed on earth and started making rock and roll.
Songs like “Blue Rosebuds” can co-mingle lush soundscapes of tranquility and horror all in one five-minute piece of music.
They have a long list of classic albums such as “The Third Reich And Roll” and “The Commercial Album” which is composed of forty sixty-second songs.
People like Les Claypool may have covered their songs but no one can sound anything remotely like the art brut majesty of the actual band.
The three piece ensemble that performed at the regal Rio Theatre in Santa Cruz on Saturday night was the most melodic and musical incarnation of the band that I have heard so far.
While a guitarist and keyboardist with a laptop wove lovely collages of otherworldly sound, the lead singer had a different voice and character for every song.
Dressed as a decrepit old man, he sang harrowing stories in a voice that could go from a gurgle to a shriek to a growl.
After starting with a song from “Demons Dance Alone,” they went thorough a semi-retrospective of their entire career.
It was hard to tell because many of their songs were presented in versions so radically different from the originals that they'd be halfway through a tune before you recognized even a familiar one.
This complete reinvention of their songbook was one of the show's strong suits.
Sometimes two or three songs were mashed together into one huge psychedelic suite that was staggering in its intensity.
Songs could launch from places of celestial calm to pure avant-garde excess in a matter of seconds.
They did a masterful “Gingerbread Man” and a chillingly haunted version of “Six More Miles to the Graveyard.” The orchestral “Semolina” was a particular standout.
The music was dense and complex, and almost every song took you to a trippy lysergic place of ultimate unease.
But these fearful emotions were fed to you with a lush sonic poetry that was, at times, breathtaking.
Few things in life have moved me as much as The Residents' music. They sing about the dark places with melodies beautiful and strange.
By JON LONGHI
An old man stumbles around a dingy psychedelic living room in a fever dream.
To either side of him sit strange creatures hunched over their electronic equipment, spidery plastic dreadlocks hanging over big black goggles covering their dim leather faces.
Behind them flicker discs of light and dark shifting purple shapes. The air fills with the sound of creepy drum machines and circus freak show keyboards.
A guitar erupts like the scream of a tortured animal. The melody is ugly yet somehow beautiful: a sure sign. This is a Residents show.
No one knows who The Residents are. No one has ever seen their faces.
For forty years they have only performed in elaborate, grotesque costumes like giant eyeball heads in dancing tuxedos.
We don't know exactly how many people are, or have been, in the band. We don't even know their genders.
But one thing is certain, no other band makes music like theirs.
The Residents may well be the strangest band in rock and roll. Their history has been one of unrelenting freakishness.
From their clashing horn sections to Snakefinger's twisty guitar, their albums stand mutated and unique.
Bowie may have claimed to be from outer space, but it wasn't till I heard songs like “Easter Woman” and “Constantinople” that I realized aliens had actually landed on earth and started making rock and roll.
Songs like “Blue Rosebuds” can co-mingle lush soundscapes of tranquility and horror all in one five-minute piece of music.
They have a long list of classic albums such as “The Third Reich And Roll” and “The Commercial Album” which is composed of forty sixty-second songs.
People like Les Claypool may have covered their songs but no one can sound anything remotely like the art brut majesty of the actual band.
The three piece ensemble that performed at the regal Rio Theatre in Santa Cruz on Saturday night was the most melodic and musical incarnation of the band that I have heard so far.
While a guitarist and keyboardist with a laptop wove lovely collages of otherworldly sound, the lead singer had a different voice and character for every song.
Dressed as a decrepit old man, he sang harrowing stories in a voice that could go from a gurgle to a shriek to a growl.
After starting with a song from “Demons Dance Alone,” they went thorough a semi-retrospective of their entire career.
It was hard to tell because many of their songs were presented in versions so radically different from the originals that they'd be halfway through a tune before you recognized even a familiar one.
This complete reinvention of their songbook was one of the show's strong suits.
Sometimes two or three songs were mashed together into one huge psychedelic suite that was staggering in its intensity.
Songs could launch from places of celestial calm to pure avant-garde excess in a matter of seconds.
They did a masterful “Gingerbread Man” and a chillingly haunted version of “Six More Miles to the Graveyard.” The orchestral “Semolina” was a particular standout.
The music was dense and complex, and almost every song took you to a trippy lysergic place of ultimate unease.
But these fearful emotions were fed to you with a lush sonic poetry that was, at times, breathtaking.
Few things in life have moved me as much as The Residents' music. They sing about the dark places with melodies beautiful and strange.
Rome venue change
Feb/18/10 11:50 AM
The venue
for the Rome Talking Light show on May 13 has
changed. It is now at Teatro San
Raffaele.
Tweedles Instrumental (Tabasco)
Jan/01/10 06:35 AM
Tweedles (i) Tabasco now - RSD. Starting the year off right.
“Tweedles: Instrumental Following in the footsteps of the successful release of River of Crime: Instrumental and Animal Lover:Instrumental, Tweedles: Instrumental is more than just non-vocal versions of the songs. Instead, the album is a three piece suite that was originally written to represent air, earth, and water. Originally, the project's working title was "Tabasco" and over time, it evolved into "Casanova's Clown" until finally becoming Tweedles.” - (Ten Little Piggies notes)