Niklas's thoughts

music

I love The Go! Team since way back.

Musically, the band combines indie rock and garage rock with a mixture of funk and Bollywood soundtracks, double dutch chants, old school hip-hop music and distorted guitars. Their songs are a mix of live instrumentation and samples from various sources.

I fucking love The Go! Team. I love Ian Parton, the person behind the band, although it's a collective effort, it's clear that he holds the reins.

'Buy Nothing Day' rocks. 02:35 in, there's lightning; how can a band like this sound like a marching school orchestra and carry a groove that otherwise only people like Sly Stone and Funkadelic could push out?

I just let this wave roll over myself. There's something that The Go! Team do that no other artist does. No other fucking artist. The joyous atmosphere by this Brighton, UK band kind of epitomises what came from the USA in the 1970s and then enhanced it. I can't put my finger on it and I leave it be so.

The vocals are by Bethany Cosentino of Best Coast, who've at times been truly great. Just as with The Go! Team proved by making albums that at times topped their debut, Best Coast did the same thing.

Bonus songs:

#music #MusicTips

The median age where I work is quite low. Terrific! On the other hand, there's rarely talk about music, books, art, culture, film, or getting your rocks off in any way, you know?

The most experimental stuff I've heard people mention at work is Radiohead and The Strokes. So no, not a lot of experimental stuff.

From The Guardian:

At the end of their set at the second weekend of the California music festival, the band performed their 2016 song Oblivius in front of giant LED screens that showed a montage of world leaders whose death or ousting the CIA has either been a proven or suspected party in, as lead singer Julian Casablancas sang the lyrics: “What side you standing on?”

The montage showed Patrice Lumumba, the first democratically elected prime minister of the Congo, who was executed in 1961 by a Congolese firing squad with the backing of Belgian military. Lumumba was killed amid a separate CIA conspiracy to assassinate him due to the threat he posed to western control over Congo’s mineral resources, though it was Belgium that admitted “moral responsibility” and apologised for his murder in 2002.

The montage also showed Guatemalan president Jacobo Árbenz, who was overthrown in a CIA-engineered plot in 1954; and Bolivian president Juan José Torres, who was ousted in 1971 and then kidnapped and killed five years later.

Also shown was Chilean president Salvador Allende, who killed himself during the 1973 CIA-backed coup that toppled his socialist government and brought in the brutal military dictator Augusto Pinochet. Though some still believe the US also played a role in Allende’s death, a scientific autopsy in 2011 confirmed there was “absolutely no doubt” he died by his own hand.

Other leaders shown in the montage included Iran’s democratically elected prime minister Mohammad Mosaddegh, whose removal from power in 1953 was exposed as a CIA-orchestrated coup in declassified US documents in 2013; and Martin Luther King Jr, who was assasinated in 1968 after years of surveillance by both the FBI and the CIA. However, US government involvement in his killing has never been proven and a department of justice investigation in 2000 found no evidence of a conspiracy.

Also shown were Panamanian military leader Omar Torrijos and Ecuadorian president Jaime Roldós Aguilera, both of whom died in separate plane crashes in 1981 that were officially attributed to pilot error.

The Strokes’ montage closed on footage stating that more than 30 universities in Iran have been destroyed by US-Israeli airstrikes since they began earlier this year, followed by footage of the demolition of al-Israa University in Gaza, the last standing university in the Strip before Israeli forces destroyed it in 2024.

Casablancas told the audience he was “tempted to come out tonight with a laptop and show you guys some of those Iran Lego videos”, referring to the viral AI-generated clips made and distributed by pro-Iranian groups to ridicule Donald Trump’s administration.

“More facts than your local news. But they were taken down,” Casablancas said, blaming “fucking YouTube or government or whatever” before adding: “Land of the free, am I right?”

The Strokes go a long way at times. Their latest single sounds like drab shit though and it's unfortunately produced by Rick Rubin, but at least The Strokes have done some great stuff in the past – not to mention 'Oblivius' at Coachella. I dig how Casablancas's voice sounded when dragged through autotune.

And yes, there is loveliness about a band that has more chutzpah than most Swedish political parties.

#TheStrokes #protest #music #MusicTips #dissidence

In one breath:

Elliott Smith met a French girl and spent a couple of weeks with her and then they 'broke up' even though she had a boyfriend at the time and he misunderstood what she'd said so it ended without having ended.

This is an unreleased song. Place Pigalle was the working title for the album Figure 8.

Place Pigalle is a public square in Paris, France.

The girl and the boy met in New York City and went around town.

For more details on the story and the song, I urge you to get a hold of Jamie Fisher's coming book about Elliott Smith, Nobody Broke Your Heart. The book will be released on 25 August 2026.

#ElliottSmith #JamieFisher #music #MusicTips #passion

inferno

Boards of Canada are about to release their new album, Inferno, the first album in 13 years. It's out on 29 May. Bleep have registered 'overwhelming demand' and I see why.

Boards of Canada is a mysterious band, like some other artists like Aphex Twin and Autechre.

Here's my favourite song of theirs, 'Dayvan Cowboy'.

#music

'Motown Junk' is Manic Street Preachers' second single.

A while back I read 168 Songs of Hatred and Failure, a song on every Manics song that's been released since their start. James Dean Bradfield—singer, guitarist, composer—still thinks it's their best song.

Bradfield is such an underestimated guitarist.

I think there's something about the song that only fervour and youth can mix and capture. On the other hand, lyrics like these can only be written by thoughtful, inventive, explosive, and young provocateurs:

Never ever wanted to be with you The only thing you gave me was the boredom I suffocate in Adrift in cheap dreams don't stop the rain Numbed out in piss towns just want to dig their graves

Motown, Motown junk I laughed when Lennon got shot 21 years of living and nothing means anything to me

Motown junk a lifetime of slavery Songs of love echo underclass betrayal Stops your heart beating for 168 seconds

#music #ManicStreetPreachers

On 10 July, Will Sheff—who fronts Okkervil River—releases his second solo album, Extra Mile.

'Funny Feeling' is the first single. This is a dreamy, flowy track. An amalgam of Will's project named Lovestreams...highlighting lovely song. The percussion and synths bring a kind of 1970s Donny Hathaway feeling to the track, that turns different four minutes in. Will got his groove in! This track carries a bunch of components, all nice.

I've not seen Will in years. I know his and Beth's companion, Larry, recently died. That is harrowing. I remember when my wife's and my little love, Blixa, died. I suddenly remember Blixa Bargeld—yes he's the source of our Blixa's name—writing 'How Did I Die?', a song that is part of the Einstürzende Neubauten project and album LAMENT is infused with World War I. Does anything ever end? Does war ever end?


Lyrics from 'How Did I Die?'

Now there is only that sinister brown belt, a strip of murdered Nature. It seems to belong to another world. Every sign of humanity has been swept away. The woods and roads have vanished like chalk wiped from a board; of the villages nothing remains but gray smears where stone walls have tumbled together. A confused mass of troubled earth. Columns of muddy smoke spurt up continually as high explosives tear deeper into this ulcered area.

How did I die? I fell from the sky or didn’t I?

I filled my mouth with water so the bullet could secede

How did I die? How did I die? Did I die by my own hand? Or didn’t I? How did I die? Or didn’t I die at all?

How did we die? Or didn’t we? Didn’t we die at all? We didn’t die We didn’t die We are back with a different song

We didn’t die We didn’t die We’re just singing a different song We are back with a change of weather Ein anderer Wind, ein neues Lied

#music #WillSheff #EinstürzendeNeubauten

It was a sound bath, alright.

I felt that he started out with a simple idea and built on that; Simon, my friend who I saw the gig with, said it was 'all harmonics' and I think he nailed the description.

For some recorded Alessandro, check this out.

It felt like Alessandro Cortini was similar to Sunn O))).

#music #live #instrumental #drone

If you've not yet heard Sunn O))), you're in for a treat.

They've just released SUNN O))), a new album. Get ready for droned-out fuzz:

MRRRROOOOMMSSHHHHHHHHHZZZZZZZZ

I'm transported to the core of the Earth from listening to this music for long. It's a vast, vast ride.

#music #drone

Elliott cover

I'm reading a coming biography about Elliott Smith, named Nobody Broke Your Heart: An Intimate Biography of Elliott Smith.

So far, I've only read the introduction. It bears the hallmarks of a great fucking book.

Twenty-three years after his death, Elliott still isn’t particularly well known, or well understood, but he is terribly loved. The task of understanding and preserving his legacy has become a collective project. There are YouTube accounts like I Remember Elliott; his old fan site Sweet Adeline, defiantly mired in Web 1.0; oral-history blogs like so flawed and drunk and perfect still; Smiling at Confusion, a site for posting guitar tabs, guidance on fingerings and chords. Fans share bootleg recordings and unreleased songs, reflections on his lyrics or entreaties for help understanding them, and they speculate darkly on his death. Below videos you’ll find hundreds of comments, people gushing over Elliott’s fingerpicking, arguing about whether he’s on something at this concert or just tired but clean, thanking him for accompanying them through depression or addiction, for making them feel less alone.

What is immediate, what is human, that is love.


Recently, a friend asked me to run some of their works through AI to see what it would create. Instantly it generated some seemingly worthwhile stuff but in actuality, AI is autocorrect on steroids. My friend isn't very knowledgeable around AI but they produce stuff that's, frankly, some of the best I've ever read and heard in their 'fields'.

Three recent articles about AI:

Ludwig Wittgenstein Ludwig Wittgenstein

Wittgenstein is one of my favourite modern philosophers. I highly recommend Ray Monk's beautiful Ludwig Wittgenstein: The Duty of Genius.

A recently-published article on large language models (LLMs) as they relate to Wittgenstein's views on language, semantics, and mathematics is very interesting indeed.

When Wittgenstein referred to the “beginning of the end of humanity,” he was not envisioning sci-fi cataclysms on the order of The Matrix or The Terminator or even Dr. Strangelove. He was referring to the end of humanity not primarily in terms of its biological survival, but in terms of what he called the “form of life” we inhabit. That form of life is threatened not so much by industrialization, nukes, robots, or AI agents as by a way of thinking that lowers human life to the plane of science and technology. Wittgenstein’s attempt to draw attention to that way of thinking—and dissuade us from it—is of the utmost importance in an era where the developing AI ideology threatens to further distort our understanding of how we use language and how we live.

A more in-depth excerpt from the wondrously and sharply written article:

The parts of the Investigations where Wittgenstein probes our concepts of thinking and understanding can help us escape the conceptual muddles that plague discussions and debates over AI and so-called “artificial general intelligence.”

“One of the great sources of philosophical bewilderment,” according to Wittgenstein, arises when a noun like “meaning” or “number” “makes us look for a thing that corresponds to it.” We assume that our language works principally by way of reference, so that where there is a noun there must be a thing it points to. But referring to objects is just one of language’s many functions or games. Instead of looking for the things behind our words, Wittgenstein proposes studying the grammar of the language game: the role words play—and don’t play—in these activities.

When we reflect on words like “meaning,” “thinking,” “understanding,” and “reasoning,” Wittgenstein argues, a certain picture immediately enters our heads: an internal process existing in the brain or mind that enables or somehow gives life to outwardly meaningful expressions. But, Wittgenstein asks, “What really comes before our mind when we understand a word?” Is it a kind of picture, so that I see an image of a pen in my mind’s eye when I hear the word “pen”? Do I then compare my inner picture to my experience of the outer world in order to determine whether it would be appropriate to use the word “pen”? Does some correspondence between this internal process and my expression “pen” somehow constitute the meaning?

The idea of meaning as an internal process seems unproblematic at first, even unavoidable, but, as Wittgenstein shows, it’s not clear what role such a process would actually be playing. He asks his reader, for example, to “say: ‘Yes, this pen is blunt. Oh well, it’ll do.’ First, with thought; then without thought; then just think the thought without the words.” Having conducted these absurd self-examinations, Wittgenstein asks us to reflect, “What did the thought, as it existed before its expression, consist in?”

His point is that our intuitive idea of meaning as an inner correlate of our outward expressions breaks down when it is taken as something like a scientific theory for what’s really going on when we use language. This failure shouldn’t surprise us. Our language did not evolve for scientific or metaphysical purposes, but just to help us make do and get along in the real world.

The picture of thought as an internal process accompanying our use of language is just that: a picture. It is unproblematic insofar as it arises in everyday language, as when I clarify a misunderstanding by telling you, after you’ve mistakenly handed me a red pen on the desk, “No, I meant that blue pen on the bookshelf.” But that sentence is not a claim about the state of my brain a moment ago; it could not be confirmed or disconfirmed by some kind of retroactive brain scan. It’s merely a way to advance a practical project that has gone off the rails. If it’s anywhere, meaning is in that project, not in my brain.

Of course, we might imagine that some industrious cognitive scientist equipped with the latest in brain-imaging technology might actually try to establish a causal connection between a particular brain state and the correct usage of the word “pen.” But even in that case, would it be correct to say that with a coordinated set of brain images we’ve in some sense located the meaning of the word “pen”? In what sense would the internal state that shows up on the scan explain the use or understanding of the word? Would it be analogous to the way the properties of an internal combustion engine can help explain the forward motion of a car?

This example shows how strange it is to use an examination of brain states instead of actual behavior as a criterion for ascribing understanding. If we’re looking for understanding and meaning, Wittgenstein thinks, we will find them in the various things we do with language and not in some internal process that accompanies our use of language.

This is just one of the strategies Wittgenstein uses to try to dissuade his readers from a mechanical, pseudoscientific understanding of language as it is embedded in human practices. The Investigations doesn’t attempt to refute this false understanding by formal, analytic argumentation the way a scientist or science-imitating philosopher might. Wittgenstein instead tries to show its limitations. His makeshift strategies—describing language games, imagining dialogues, conducting thought experiments, and drawing analogies—show how the scientific worldview has strayed from narrowly defined areas where it actually has purchase and started to distort our understanding of domains where it doesn’t belong.


It all reminds me of Noam Chomsky's discussion with Michel Gondry in the documentary Is the Man Who Is Tall Happy?. The documentary is packed with discussion on matters like universal grammar, but I remember Chomsky talking about how a small child can see a tall man who's happy; the child immediately knows that man is happy, and can draw parallels that allow the child to equally immediately know that not every man who is tall is happy, nor that every man is happy. The two-year-old Watumull/Roberts/Chomsky article The False Promise of ChatGPT says much about this.

It's not hard to know where happiness is found. To experience happiness is another thing, and AI won't help us there.

#ArtificialIntelligence #music #ElliottSmith #NoamChomsky #LudwigWittgenstein

David Stubbs tells the following words which are culled from his brilliant book Future Days. This passage mostly tells us about an action courtesy of Nikel Pallat, the manager for music group Ton Steine Scherben.

There were others, however, including Nikel Pallat, manager of hard-leftist polemical rockers Ton Steine Scherben, who regarded Kaiser as a typical have-it-both-ways liberal bullshitter. This schism came to a head in a televised debate involving the pair on a WDR talkshow in 1971, whose discussion went under the heading ‘Pop & Co – Die “andere” Musik zwischen Protest und Markt’ (‘Pop & Co. – The “Other” Music between Protest and Marketplace’), which can be viewed on YouTube. Its period quaintness lies not just in the length of the hair of the participants, the studio smoking or the orangeness of Kaiser’s jumper, which merely to look at is to overdose on Vitamin C. It’s in the admirably earnest accommodation of those discussing the feasibility and possibility of the overthrow of capitalism through rock music. As Kaiser seeks to dampen this far-left yearning, the debate begins to heat up. Translated, the action runs as follows.

‘Societal change will come in an evolutionary process,’ says Kaiser. ‘That isn’t something that’ll happen tomorrow, but a development that will take probably a hundred years.’ He points out that immediate change was the illusion of the people who marched in the 1960s, important though these protests were. Pallat angrily dismisses this Fabian talk of slow, evolutionary progress, suggesting that it amounts to support for continued oppression.

‘You are working for the oppressor, not against the oppressor. Do you realise that?’ Kaiser defends himself, saying that one has to understand how the media work. ‘Who are you working for?’ retorts Pallat, sharply.

‘You cannot dispute that you are working for the capitalist.’ ‘Who do you represent here?’ comes back Kaiser, with equal sharpness. ‘Don’t you think the TV isn’t also a capitalist organ?’ (Here the moderator intervenes to point out that Kaiser isn’t speaking on behalf of TV.)

It’s all too much for Pallat. ‘Here we have TV making this shit-liberal programme we’re having an opportunity to go on about anti-materialism – socialism … we shouldn’t speak about evolution but revolution, yeah? And objectively nothing is changing about oppression. TV is a tool of oppression by general society. And that’s why it is completely obvious that if something should still happen, then one has to stand against the oppressor and not be neutral … and that’s why I am going to destroy this table now.’

Whereupon, true to his word, he produces from his inside jacket pocket an axe and, snarling and swearing, commences to bash the table as the rest of the panellists edge away in consternation. It is not so much the table towards which he bears a grudge but its symbolic role as polite vortex of sedentary, liberal consensus. Once he has completed his attempted assault on the offending piece of furniture, which proves remarkably resistant to his ferocious efforts, he says, ‘So, let’s continue our discussion.’ No one else, however, is inclined to do so.

Taking full advantage of the freedom temporarily afforded him by his axe to do as he pleases, he gathers up the microphones abandoned on what’s left of the table and stuffs them into his pockets, announcing that he is commandeering them for the oppressed. ‘I need the microphones for the young people who are sitting in jail.’

The resilience of the table is a metaphor of sorts for the resilience of a certain leftist strain of German tolerance and liberality at that time, whose broadmindedness and reasonableness was capable of withstanding even axe attack. The very fact that Pallat had an axe about his person in the studio suggests to the cynical an element of premeditation to his outburst. Nonetheless, as insurrectionary television goes, it rather puts the Sex Pistols and Bill Grundy in the shade.

Alongside Can and Faust, Einstürzende Neubauten’s Blixa Bargeld also listed Ton Steine Scherben as one of the seventies German groups he most admired. On the strength of this performance, it’s not hard to see why. It shows also the depth of feeling and revolutionary commitment that had seized the hearts and minds of the more radical young Germans, as well as Kaiser’s ability to put people’s backs up.

#music #destruction #Germany #video #politics #BlixaBargeld #EinsturzendeNeubauten