1. Steve Reich- Daniel Variations (Originally Performed in 2006 released this year)
2. Grouper-Dragging a Dead Deer Up a Hill
3. Tobacco-Fucked Up Friends
4. Ponytail-Ice Cream Spiritual
5. Pivot- Soundtrack O Soundtrack My Heart
6. Nat Baldwin-MVP
7. School of Seven Bells- Alpinisms
8. Matmos- Supreme Balloon
9. Max Tundra- Parallax Error Beheads You
10. Why?- Alopecia
11. High Places- High Places
12. Department of Eagles- In Ear Park
13. El Guincho- Alegranza!
14. M83- Saturdays=Youth
15. Alan Scheurman- Old Patterns
16. Silent Years- The Globe
17. Atlas Sound- Let the Blind Lead those Who Can See but Cannot Feel
18. Deerhunter- Microcastle/Weird Era Cont.
19. Animal Collective-Water Curses
20. Beach House-Devotion
21- Benoit Piolard- Temper
22. Cryptacize- Dig That Treasure
23. Fleet Foxes-Ragged Wood
24. Foals- Antidotes
25. Lucky Dragons- Dream Island Laughing Language
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Monday, December 22, 2008
A Poem by Wendell Berry!
Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front
Love the quick profit, the annual raise,
vacation with pay. Want more
of everything ready-made. Be afraid
to know your neighbors and to die.
And you will have a window in your head.
Not even your future will be a mystery
any more. Your mind will be punched in a card
and shut away in a little drawer.
When they want you to buy something
they will call you. When they want you
to die for profit they will let you know.
So, friends, every day do something
that won't compute. Love the Lord.
Love the world. Work for nothing.
Take all that you have and be poor.
Love someone who does not deserve it.
Denounce the government and embrace
the flag. Hope to live in that free
republic for which it stands.
Give your approval to all you cannot
understand. Praise ignorance, for what man
has not encountered he has not destroyed.
Ask the questions that have no answers.
Invest in the millenium. Plant sequoias.
Say that your main crop is the forest
that you did not plant,
that you will not live to harvest.
Say that the leaves are harvested
when they have rotted into the mold.
Call that profit. Prophesy such returns.
Put your faith in the two inches of humus
that will build under the trees
every thousand years.
Listen to carrion -- put your ear
close, and hear the faint chattering
of the songs that are to come.
Expect the end of the world. Laugh.
Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful
though you have considered all the facts.
So long as women do not go cheap
for power, please women more than men.
Ask yourself: Will this satisfy
a woman satisfied to bear a child?
Will this disturb the sleep
of a woman near to giving birth?
Go with your love to the fields.
Lie down in the shade. Rest your head
in her lap. Swear allegiance
to what is nighest your thoughts.
As soon as the generals and the politicos
can predict the motions of your mind,
lose it. Leave it as a sign
to mark the false trail, the way
you didn't go.
Be like the fox
who makes more tracks than necessary,
some in the wrong direction.
Practice resurrection.
Love the quick profit, the annual raise,
vacation with pay. Want more
of everything ready-made. Be afraid
to know your neighbors and to die.
And you will have a window in your head.
Not even your future will be a mystery
any more. Your mind will be punched in a card
and shut away in a little drawer.
When they want you to buy something
they will call you. When they want you
to die for profit they will let you know.
So, friends, every day do something
that won't compute. Love the Lord.
Love the world. Work for nothing.
Take all that you have and be poor.
Love someone who does not deserve it.
Denounce the government and embrace
the flag. Hope to live in that free
republic for which it stands.
Give your approval to all you cannot
understand. Praise ignorance, for what man
has not encountered he has not destroyed.
Ask the questions that have no answers.
Invest in the millenium. Plant sequoias.
Say that your main crop is the forest
that you did not plant,
that you will not live to harvest.
Say that the leaves are harvested
when they have rotted into the mold.
Call that profit. Prophesy such returns.
Put your faith in the two inches of humus
that will build under the trees
every thousand years.
Listen to carrion -- put your ear
close, and hear the faint chattering
of the songs that are to come.
Expect the end of the world. Laugh.
Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful
though you have considered all the facts.
So long as women do not go cheap
for power, please women more than men.
Ask yourself: Will this satisfy
a woman satisfied to bear a child?
Will this disturb the sleep
of a woman near to giving birth?
Go with your love to the fields.
Lie down in the shade. Rest your head
in her lap. Swear allegiance
to what is nighest your thoughts.
As soon as the generals and the politicos
can predict the motions of your mind,
lose it. Leave it as a sign
to mark the false trail, the way
you didn't go.
Be like the fox
who makes more tracks than necessary,
some in the wrong direction.
Practice resurrection.
Sunday, December 7, 2008
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Adrienne Rich Quote.
"My heart is moved by all I cannot save. So much has been destroyed I have cast my lot with those who age after age, perversely, with no extraordinary, reconstitute the world."
Sunday, November 16, 2008
New Link! POWERED
This is a page for all of Deastro's powered material, hope you like it!!! http://www.myspace.com/lightpowered
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
CMJ!!!!
We just got back from CMJ it was an amazing experience, I saw the Castanets and Viking Moses, as well as Place to Bury Strangers, Ponytail and the Ruby Suns. On Saturday night I this band for the first time called Wye Oak and they were really good. They are a two piece from Baltimore. I went to the Ghostly showcase to see School of Seven Bells play for like the seventh time in a week and this was definitely the best time I had seen them (all though they are amazing all around or I wouldn't seen them a gazillion times). We played at Glasslands at like 3:30 in the morning and Brian my bass player fell asleep on stage after the show!!! Yikes. On Sunday we played this place called Alpha Beta's for the CMJ Dropout Festival. It was really great! That is pretty much a recap oh yeah and the guys in the band met Patrice O'Neal!!! It's New York it's New York It's NEW YOOOOORK.......
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Friday, August 15, 2008
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Monday, August 11, 2008
Vampiric thirst for art!!! Check these people out
www.myspace.com/jasonyates
http://www.myspace.com/clgarvin
http://www.myspace.com/iwillmissthedinosaurs
http://www.myspace.com/arjulo
http://www.myspace.com/clgarvin
http://www.myspace.com/iwillmissthedinosaurs
http://www.myspace.com/arjulo
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Monday, April 14, 2008
Saturday, April 12, 2008
Video From Lager House on Thursday!
http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vd3d3LnlvdXR1YmUuY29tL3dhdGNoP3Y9RlMtb0Rwam9IWVU=
Friday, April 11, 2008
border="0" alt="Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket">
Crusties!
(This is a poem I wrote a while back) I still kind of like it!
Every morning I wake up with scabs on my eyes!
Yellow clotted blood with razor edges and omens.
Dried up tear ducts needing triple bypasses.
Infant eyes emerging from a womb of sleep.
What Did I dream? That the fountain of the deep has dried!
What thought, what nightmare, what Sahara!
Dreams of love leaving for the some grey suite with white pinstripes,
For combed teeth and wire brushed brain cells.
Was it of Dresden, Hiroshima and the evening news,
World Hunger, Nanking and napalm hues.
Was it the devil painting realism with hellfire
Or I his mirror mimicking his hunting dance?
Was it of brides whose grooms stole the batteries
From their flashlights leaving their words cavernous,
Like some chill that will not leave, an achy shoulder,
Or a truth you can’t remember.
A holy book said that our children would dream dreams
But nothing of dry dream stream scheme screams!!!!!!!
A layer of your eye burns off when it sees light every morning
As if it were incense asking for forgiveness for our secret thoughts!
Every morning I wake up with scabs on my eyes!
Yellow clotted blood with razor edges and omens.
Dried up tear ducts needing triple bypasses.
Infant eyes emerging from a womb of sleep.
What Did I dream? That the fountain of the deep has dried!
What thought, what nightmare, what Sahara!
Dreams of love leaving for the some grey suite with white pinstripes,
For combed teeth and wire brushed brain cells.
Was it of Dresden, Hiroshima and the evening news,
World Hunger, Nanking and napalm hues.
Was it the devil painting realism with hellfire
Or I his mirror mimicking his hunting dance?
Was it of brides whose grooms stole the batteries
From their flashlights leaving their words cavernous,
Like some chill that will not leave, an achy shoulder,
Or a truth you can’t remember.
A holy book said that our children would dream dreams
But nothing of dry dream stream scheme screams!!!!!!!
A layer of your eye burns off when it sees light every morning
As if it were incense asking for forgiveness for our secret thoughts!
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