…with thanks to Sam at The Blogglebum Cage who tagged me in this ridiculous meme.  Meme.  Even the word feels like a meme.  Look at me, look at me, I’m using the word meme!  

“List seven songs you are into right now. No matter what the genre, whether they have words, or even if they’re not any good, but they must be songs you’re really enjoying now, shaping your spring. Post these instructions in your blog along with your 7 songs. Then tag 7 other people to see what they’re listening to.”

OK, I’ll get this over with quick, then please take me outside and shoot me.

Sun Ra “Ancient Aethiopians”: I hadn’t listened to Jazz in Silhouette for over a decade, having probably dismissed it when I first bought it, being in search of some more of that Space Is The Place otherness with which I was infatuated at the time.  However, my iPod coughed this up randomly the other day, and I was amazed: it was actually here all along, in those dissonant horns, those tribal drums.  Recorded in 1958. Bloody hell.

Byetone “Plastic Star (Session)”: I’m not going to bang on about this, as I’ll probably post a review of Death Of A Typographer in a couple of days, but suffice to say: this is the one.

Kraftwerk “The Man-Machine(live)”: In fact, the storm surge of Raster-Noton which has flooded my ears has driven me back to source, and in particular to the clinical, crystal-crisp versions Kraftwerk performed on tour a few years back.  The machines allowed humans in to their electronic world, and how the humans cheered and danced. Even a miserable sod like me.

Wildbirds and Peacedrums “I Can’t Tell In His Eyes”: Rather than giving a sad song to Mariam Wallentin, why not just tell me that my cat has choked to death on my slippers?  It would probably have the same effect.  I loved those slippers.

John Fahey, “Summertime”: Because it is.  Isn’t it?

Yoro Sidibe “Three”: Real, raw, repetitive, and ritualistic Malian groove released on an offshoot of Drag City, Yaala Yaala, all boingy rhythm and metallic shakers. (You can listen to some of this over at Warpmart)

Skullflower “Pure Imperial Reform”: OK, so now I’m pushing the definition of song a bit too far.  This is three-quarters of an hour of sludgy sonic carnage which I picked up in that fine emporium of such things, Second Layer.  I love the fact that no matter what I go in there for (and I think it was a Robbie Basho album this time) I come out bearing a heavy slab of pure noise.  “It is a proper CD”, said the guy behind the counter, “with a proper cover and everything”.  Sold!

I’m tagging seven otters others now, with sincere apologies.  Roo, Broo, Coo, Colin, Mike, Mike, and, why not, Hank.  Now I really hate myself.  Here, use this gun.