On the same October day Pinkish Black released their third and best LP to date through Relapse Records, the label also issued the final recordings of the members' earlier act, a process stalled for five years by tragedy. Pinkish Black's anchors—the theatric singer and florid keyboardist Daron Beck and athletic drummer Jon Teague—formed The Great Tyrant a decade ago with bassist Tommy Atkins. A young, exploratory and vaguely metallic outfit interested in doom and goth, industrial and krautrock, The Great Tyrant was working on The Trouble with Being Born when Atkins killed himself in 2010. Oana radu tu mp3 download zippy. Beck and Teague scrapped the sessions and started a new band, taking the color of the blood-splattered walls where Atkins had died—that is, pinkish-black—as a lurid tribute to the missing member. It's fitting, then, that The Great Tyrant emptied its archives on the same day Pinkish Black offered its latest, greatest work to date, Bottom of the Morning. As a duo, Beck and Teague have finally found the sound and strength for which they've long searched., the results on Bottom of the Morning almost feel heroic.Pinkish Black's previous two albums were hesitant and uncertain, as though Teague and Beck were trying to define their shared aesthetic while teasing out a new duo chemistry, too.
Their fine 2012 debut packed in some excellent ideas and alluring sounds, but the band—particularly Teague's voice—was obscured in effects. Though more forthright, the subsequent Razed to the Ground found the duo again trying to do too much, as they moved from slow-motion dirges to extravagant, pulse-pounding doom.But Bottom of the Morning is, at last, the first unified, unabashed Pinkish Black album. These songs are unveiled, a message that's as clear with the hook-heavy, march-like opener 'Brown Rainbow' as it is with the beautifully brutal instrumental closer 'The Master is Away'. On these seven tracks, Beck and Teague amplify the grandiosity, directness and intensity of what they do. The keyboards can be as rich as a Tangerine Dream or Goblin record, the melodies as creepy and contagious as John Carpenter.
And Teague emerges as a powerhouse capable of summoning John Bonham, Klaus Dinger and Billy Cobham. But the real coup here comes through Beck's voice. Even on The Great Tyrant's LPs, especially the now-unearthed The Trouble with Being Born, it was clear how capable he was, though he wasn't yet quite in command of his talent. Here, however, his mix of near-monastic chants, witchy incantations and operatic verses—now, not crowded by manipulation or undercut with noise—serves as the record's compulsory core. You lean in close to hear what he's saying.It should come as little surprise that a band named for a friend's suicide embraces dark lyrics. Indeed, these songs approach the nihilistic.
'Special Dark' is little more than a string of negative participles and adjectives—'withered, fractured bleaker, starker'—intoned in a dour murmur over blown-out bass and busy drums. At the start of 'Bottom of the Morning', Beck whispers and sings about wasting life and wasting time; at track's end, he howls about endless cycles of false promises and futile attempts at self-improvement. 'Everyday's the same again,' he sings, his voice stentorian but graceful, like a latter-day Scott Walker. 'Everyday it's growing thin.' Since Atkins' death in 2010,; the weight and worry of the world are central to these songs.But somehow, those qualities are boons, not burdens.
Despite all the despair and misanthropy written into these words, these songs often feel like conquests. The album itself is triumphant, like a survivalist manifesto offered at the close of a markedly tough spell. Behind the grim declarations of 'Bottom of the Morning', for instance, the twinkle of the organ, the groove of the left hand's bassline and the dance of the drums suggest Miles Davis' On the Corner, perhaps even Weather Report. And though 'Burn My Body' is as lyrically macabre as the title implies, bright synthesizer arpeggios and the back-and-forth motion of the drums offer the relief and release endemic to the narrator's final request. As the song ends, the synthesizers and drums intimate a skyward ascension, a last will finally honored. On Bottom of the Morning, Beck and Teague have effectively stepped beyond the ghosts of the past, landing in a present where the results are now as compelling as the backstory.
Pinkish Black Razed To The Ground Blogspot
The interior of the once-stately mansion at 6315 Ward Parkway had been gutted by its previous owners. SolutionsBank, which acquired the house in foreclosure in July, concluded that the property was worth more without the structure than with it.' It was in awful shape and, from our reports, there wasn't any feasible way to rehab the house,? Said SolutionsBank?s president, Mark Parman.The Kansas City Landmarks Commission was set to consider Friday whether the house, which was built in 1926 and was the Kansas City Symphony Designers?
Showcase home just three years ago, should be put on the Kansas City Register of Historic Places.But by then the house could be history.' The application doesn't suspend any permits' for demolition, said Bradley Wolf, commission administrator.' The exterior of the house is what really made it a jewel,' said Kimberlee Ried, president of the Historic Kansas City Foundation. 'That, and how it was situated on the land and fit into the neighborhood.' Unfortunately, what follows it is likely to be ridiculous and hideous.'
LenexatoKCMO wrote:unless the demo people had done something stupid to fuck it up structurally.It's my understanding that it was left open to the elements for the last couple years (they didn't put windows back in or finish the roof or something). I'm not an architect or structural engineer, but that can't be good.Drove by the other day and there was a big pile of copper lying on the ground. Looked like roofing flashing ripped out. Seemed to me like someone was salvaging (stealing?) the valuable material pre-demolition. Slappy the Wang wrote:Why is a barn razing the new construction of a barn, yet razing a house means we're tearing it down?
For that matter, why can we say the wind blew, yet we can't acknowledge that it snew four inches in the mountains yesterday?And why can't they burn the thing down with effigies and the whole bit.a massive neighborhood party? Explore the space people.Reading the above, I now know where George Carlin went when he died.PumpkinStalker, love your succinct summary of this screw up.Dave, you're likely right.
When they say it was beyond restoration, it is typically a lie. In some cases it's simple stupidity and once in a while it's actually true. I walked around today about 3:30-4:30. Lucinda Rice Petrie was there, (former pres of Historic KC Foundation) so I talked to her for a while as we walked and took pictures together.First things first. From my observations, there was nothing wrong that I couldn't do myself with the exception of roof/gutter work, and some MINOR tuck pointing on the brick. The windows were rehab-able, etc etc. I won't say it was in mint condition, it was vacant for several years!
But salvageable DEFINITELY. They brought back the fucking President Hotel! This was a matter of the bank not wanting a liability such as a vacant house.
My mother has worked in trust departments for various banks in the Plaza area and is very familiar with liabilites banks face when they are owners of vacant lands. Lawsuits waiting to happen from tresspassers, arson, etc etc. They want to liquidate properties as soon as possible! But since they couldn't sell this one, they basically decided it was better for them to demo the building to protect their ass.Now that we cleared that up. The bank tells the story of 'oh, poor us, we can't sell this property to repay our loan without tearing down this blighted property'. There were some neighbors there that were voicing their opinions. Some were THRILLED it was being torn down, and couldn't wait for the place to go away.
I congratulated them and told them I hoped Solutions Bank built a drive thru branch there for them so they had convenient banking down the street. Seriously, there were some dumb ass neighbors there. Then there were others that were distraught and worried what would be built on the land.According to Lucinda, the land is going to split into three separate lots and eventually the goal is to build three houses on the property. It will look gawd-awful if that happens, I don't see how this will fit into the neighborhood fabric.So, here are some pictures. It had a tennis court, in ground swimming pool with cabana house (needed some major reno) and a pergola with a ceiling painted in clouds. Nothing was spared.
I looked inside what remained of the house and all mouldings, fixtures, the mail slot, everything was still in tact. Those who have perused salvage places know that this stuff is EXPENSIVE on the second hand market. HELL, they could have called Habitat for Humanity to DECONSTRUCT and REUSE the parts.
But instead, it seems as though the bank found out that Lucinda and others with the Landmarks Commission were going to meet Friday to discuss what could be done, and as usual with things like this, sent a crew over to bash the side in to make it totally unfeasible to fix up.I could rant all day.It had pink, black, and white marble entryway.Old fountain remains.
By Oliver SheppardPinkish Black’s sophomore LP, is set for release on September 17. The Fort Worth band’s first and self-titled LP (which was reviewed for CVLT Nation last year, ) was on Denton’s label; the new album sees them on the larger and more metal-centric imprint.Pinkish Black’s sound, however, has thankfully not changed: Razed to the Ground is an opus of doomy, sludgy, crushingly dark music that incorporates elements of doom metal, Projekt Records-style ethereal wave, gothic rock, and other dark music elements. And also as with the first LP, one once again is reminded of 80s Cop-era Swans, early Godflesh (and especially the proto-Godflesh band, Fall of Because), and even stuff like Killing Joke’s “S036” or Mass’s much-overlooked release from the 80s. It’s a unique, churning sound that doesn’t fit neatly into any pre-defined categories. There is even a kind of creeping “space drone” twist to the sound this time around that serves as an intriguing development in the band’s evolution. The effect is often eerily psychedelic.Vocalist Daron Beck’s vocals soar above Razed to the Gound‘s doomy soundscape, melodic but also coldly detached, recalling at turns the classically disaffected postpunk style of singers like Ian Curtis and even, occasionally, Nick Cave.
Jon Teague’s excellent, gut-busting drum work is busiest on the first track but settles into a deliberately stomping, and at times tribal, pace throughout the majority of the seven-song record.