Conor [A.K.A. Joe Lieberman]

Alright piranhas, here it is. It's in no particular order, expect Peaceful Snow is by far number one. I worship D. Pierce as I do night's high vault.

Death in June – Peaceful Snow (double snow-blue 10”) [Ner]
I saw these black leather boots on Folsom Street (San Francisco’s BDSM quarter) with 12” dildos fastened to the soles. These commandos are not for walking! I want Douglas Pierce to slam those boots deep inside me until I see the void as a pink ovulating orchid, furry as cockscomb. Until then I have his velvet voice and soft piano strokes.

Swans – My Father Will Guide Me Up a Rope to the Sky [Young God]
Michael Gira continues to yank at my heartstrings and spill the poisons from my veins. Nothing screams despairing alcoholism like his miserable lyrics and tender voice. Decades after his prime and he still sounds like Thanatos. I’ll let him be my Mephistopheles any day.

Shirley Collins – Sweet England (reissue) [Fledg’ling]
Her rendition of “Barbara Allen” is overwhelmingly beautiful. “Oh mother mother make my bed/Make it long and make it narrow/Sweet William died for me today/I'll die for him tomorrow”. David Tibet is right again; her voice is a “pair of lips on a heart”.

Josephine Foster & the Victor Herroro Band – Anda Jaleo [Fire]
Who needs Joanna Newsom when Josephine Foster never fails? She is without a doubt the greatest Coloradan since John Fante. I love Lorca and am taken back by her interpretations of his revolutionary folk ballads. I long to hear an acapella reworking of Lorca’s final poem, before being murdered by Franco’s tiranos:

If I die,
leave the balcony open.
The little boy is eating oranges.
(From my balcony I can see him.)
The reaper is harvesting the wheat.
(From my balcony I can hear him.)
If I die,
leave the balcony open!

Foster’s ongoing homage to past poets is utterly invigorating, first with German folk songs in A Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing, then again by putting Emily Dickenson’s poems to music with Graphic as a Star and now with Lorca’s classic gypsy songs. In an epoch of mindless amalgamation and unknowing appropriation, Josephine Foster maintains a mindful and fascinating lineage and manages to shine through her forbearers with unique innovation. It’s like Coltrane quoting Bird’s phrasing.

Besides seeing Jack Rose weeks before he passed, Josephine Foster at Chicago’s intimate Hideout was the greatest performance of the year. She interrupted sound check by walking up to the piano and singing a song about a red rose peaking out of the snow, towering above the tree line. I cried instantly.

Les Rallizes Denudes – Heavier than a Death in the Family (reissued finally) [Phoenix]
Here’s a record for superlatives. Best album name ever. Best name for an opening track ever, “Strung Out Deeper Than the Night”. One of the best covers ever. It’s so f#*king punk; red lipstick, pitch black long hair and matching black shades and a bloody dagger. I can't look at it too long or my g-spot twitches. The only cover I love more is On the Beach, but we all know about my Shakey fetish. Every track sounds like “Sister Ray”. I’ve been waiting for this to be reissued for years; it’s criminal how long they kept me pining. Heavier Than a Death in the Family is the best Japanese psych. record of all time. I think Julian Cope has my back on this one.

I know I am forgetting a lot, but I loathe new music and must get dressed and drunk, just to get drunk and get undressed again.

love and r..... b......,

c o n o r