contre la musique
i'm on a riser in a warehouse at a music festival in barcelona. it is hot and sweaty and i am stripped to shorts. my body is wired in. there are electrodes wired into my fingers with butterfly clips that are measuring the galvanic response of my skin, feeding the data - which changes rapidly as my fingers etc stray near acupuncture points - into a MIDI/CV harness which is driving a Buchla and a Bidule patch that FFTucks with one output of the Buchla to create rough, stochastic-sounding beats and thick, swarming clusters of noise like screaming pterandons.
the galvanic response of my skin is changing, because i am sprawled across a dentist's chair having sex in the dark with someone whose face i can't quite glimpse in the flashback from the strobing lights in the warehouse. dark skin, i think. probably female (although i don't clearly remember) which makes it somewhat more interesting. at one point we attempt penetration...
(i don't remember who got penetrated, either. i think it was me.)
...but it spoils the music, so we go back to tonguing each other and so on. this creates fabulous crescendos and the volume is absolutely deafening. this goes on for ages - as i get spun onto my back and strapped in (eek) - and then she/he/it leans down and whispers, "is this increasing my automatic immunity?", which for some reason at that point in time is the most erotic thing i have ever heard.
therefore, just as i'm about to come, this strange flickering surface high above splits down the middle and empties what feels like ten gallons of warm water over both of us. predictably, this drives the modular absolutely batshit, my assailant flips a footpedal next to the dentist's chair, and the Buchla & beats go into free-associative mode, dropping the kicks and bassline as they gurgle away, talking to themselves frantically as we towel off in the dark, listening to the dancefloor screaming their approval, changing into jeans and white t-shirts, and then the lights come up.
then all of a sudden i'm having a conversation at the bar with Lee Ranaldo and trying to tell him how much i admire his work but for some reason whatever comes out of my mouth comes out of it like it's being played backwards.
the galvanic response of my skin is changing, because i am sprawled across a dentist's chair having sex in the dark with someone whose face i can't quite glimpse in the flashback from the strobing lights in the warehouse. dark skin, i think. probably female (although i don't clearly remember) which makes it somewhat more interesting. at one point we attempt penetration...
(i don't remember who got penetrated, either. i think it was me.)
...but it spoils the music, so we go back to tonguing each other and so on. this creates fabulous crescendos and the volume is absolutely deafening. this goes on for ages - as i get spun onto my back and strapped in (eek) - and then she/he/it leans down and whispers, "is this increasing my automatic immunity?", which for some reason at that point in time is the most erotic thing i have ever heard.
therefore, just as i'm about to come, this strange flickering surface high above splits down the middle and empties what feels like ten gallons of warm water over both of us. predictably, this drives the modular absolutely batshit, my assailant flips a footpedal next to the dentist's chair, and the Buchla & beats go into free-associative mode, dropping the kicks and bassline as they gurgle away, talking to themselves frantically as we towel off in the dark, listening to the dancefloor screaming their approval, changing into jeans and white t-shirts, and then the lights come up.
then all of a sudden i'm having a conversation at the bar with Lee Ranaldo and trying to tell him how much i admire his work but for some reason whatever comes out of my mouth comes out of it like it's being played backwards.
posted by the Dreadful Flying Glove | 11:29 PM
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