• Untitled (prose and review

last modified August 17, 2012 by strypey

by Danyl Strype 


Ever since reading the languid pseudo-academic rantings of the Situationist International in the mid 90s I have been fascinated with the concept of the derive – in English 'to drift'. More recently a backdraft of retro psychedelia swept me up in a frenzy of neosphere drifting and I found myself spiralling inward on myself, locked in a battle of epic proportions with my own shadow.

At this end of the world the winter solstice happens in June and I decide to celebrate by taking computers to pieces and smoke copious quantities of strong kiwi pot. Later in the evening local trippers arrive with a bag of freshly picked psilosybin mushrooms. They put the hot knives on one element while they brewed up a batch of oily mushroom tea on another. I refresh the pot and down the second wash, leaving the blue-grey mushies in the bottom like a beached jellyfish.

At this point reality becomes a question of interpretation, my body is on fire with information, movement becomes music and I think everyone has a musical clitoris. I'm engaged in an interaction with the flames burning in the fire pit and two bamboo poles – one long and heavy, one shorter and light - while the warm sub-tropical rain gradually soddens my clothing. I am acutely aware of the contestation between the hippy camp in our front yard and the niceties of suburban living but it's hard to know what they make of us here, pakeha in a neighbourhood full of tangata whenua (indigenous Maori) and tauiwi (foreigners).

Everyone is speaking each others thoughts for hours. Maybe we are all just being triggered off on the same train of thought by the same influences but it's impossible not to consider with some relish the thought that the barriers between our minds are being somehow bridged by the bioelectrical effects of the poisonous chemicals we have progressively imbibed. I still don’t know where my hat or my cardy have gone although they probably ended up in the laundry where all the unclaimed clothing goes to die. The quest continues.


Specimen: "Looming"
Collected by Avotor

Who? Avotor are a cadre of electronic synth fans known to produce electronic dance music for Auckland based production house Kog Transmissions. What? "Looming" is the first and so far the only Avotor album, released on CD by Kog sublabel Thing in 1999. The Avotor sound is a terrifying mutation, a wall of industrial noise layered over slick acid jazz beatery. How? Observation of Avotor in the wild of Hamilton's great hope for alternative elitery JBC quickly showed me that guitars are not the only way of making loud, LOUD noise. A drumkit, bass guitar and two synthesizers powered Avotors cripplingly brutal sound. If the universe had ground to a halt on a faulty quantam bearing that night we wouldn't have heard it. Why? Because sometimes you feel a deep and abiding need to hurt, to be assaulted, to feel deeply uncomfortable and frightened by the bizarre extremes to which human diversity can extend. Thank you ladies and germs. Over and in...

Originally published in Boheme Magazine (July, 2004)


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