Furnace
Ex-Bluelighter
This is something I wrote up on my profile for the music mag I write for, Kludge Sound: http://ekmag.com
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Glass Museum by Tortoise:
I turned on my local university station last year, late one night. I heard this gentle sweeping guitar explode into a barrage of ambience, and the sound of a vibraphone. The drums, bass, and guitar all become secondary to the vibes.
It made me feel like I was floating into a dense forest inhabitied by creatures that would blend right into a drug-induced psychosis that JRR Tolkien used to have when he would smoke opium along with the pipeweed.
The song then floats into a near silence where guitarist David Pajo would play with quiet feedback and ambiance until it would flow right back into the song until...
silence.
bass drum hits repeat...
It's like a total explosion of John Mcentire's drums set, while the vibes play melody. They take their tempo and shoot a hit of speed into it, and rock out into a sonic storm until...it slows back down to the gentle guitar accompanied with the vibes.
I heard this song as I feel asleep, and kicked myself the next morning when it was still in my head, but without a title or a band name, I was fucked.
A few months later, I'm working my summer maintence job at a technology school. It's early morning, and I'm in the TV/Radio department replacing dusty cracked ceiling tiles.
No one is around with me, so i change the radio to the local university station, and low and behold, the song is playing again.
I turn the volume up, and smile as the dj tells me about Tortoise and their track, "Glass Museum" from the album, "Millions now living will never die".
Thanks to that one song, my current obsession with Mid-90s Chicago post-rock exposes me to a whole slew of bands that I may have never heard if I hadn't heard "Glass Museum".
[ 17 May 2002: Message edited by: Furnace ]
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Glass Museum by Tortoise:
I turned on my local university station last year, late one night. I heard this gentle sweeping guitar explode into a barrage of ambience, and the sound of a vibraphone. The drums, bass, and guitar all become secondary to the vibes.
It made me feel like I was floating into a dense forest inhabitied by creatures that would blend right into a drug-induced psychosis that JRR Tolkien used to have when he would smoke opium along with the pipeweed.
The song then floats into a near silence where guitarist David Pajo would play with quiet feedback and ambiance until it would flow right back into the song until...
silence.
bass drum hits repeat...
It's like a total explosion of John Mcentire's drums set, while the vibes play melody. They take their tempo and shoot a hit of speed into it, and rock out into a sonic storm until...it slows back down to the gentle guitar accompanied with the vibes.
I heard this song as I feel asleep, and kicked myself the next morning when it was still in my head, but without a title or a band name, I was fucked.
A few months later, I'm working my summer maintence job at a technology school. It's early morning, and I'm in the TV/Radio department replacing dusty cracked ceiling tiles.
No one is around with me, so i change the radio to the local university station, and low and behold, the song is playing again.
I turn the volume up, and smile as the dj tells me about Tortoise and their track, "Glass Museum" from the album, "Millions now living will never die".
Thanks to that one song, my current obsession with Mid-90s Chicago post-rock exposes me to a whole slew of bands that I may have never heard if I hadn't heard "Glass Museum".
[ 17 May 2002: Message edited by: Furnace ]
