There were a few years there–the late 60’s and early 70’s–when underground FM radio thrived in Chicago. FM was new then, not yet corporate, and it offered, on weak frequencies, some very eclectic and adventurous broadcasting. I’d stay up late at night and record from the radio—musicians I’d never heard, but who fascinated me: Sibelius, Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Skip James, Ornette Coleman, Doc Boggs. The tapes had no genre boundaries or even taste parameters, really–half the time I didn’t even know if I exactly liked the stuff I was recording. I didn’t yet have enough musical context to fully appreciate it. But I craved the soundscapes the tapes created. Avant garde and folk musics seemed much the same to me. It was all musical texture—fresh and new, especially the stuff that was old.
by D. Wild
When I was sixteen years old, I wrote and recorded a song called Infection. Eleven years later, it’s become completely cringe-worthy for me to listen to, but that song lead me to some of the most profound realizations I’ve had in my music career so far. The lyrics of Infection were about unrequited love, the negative feelings that come along with it, and the ability of those feelings to spread into other aspects of life.
At that time, I was extremely self-conscious about my voice, and my good friend Ravi Adams would sing on the actual recordings of my songs. Ravi was able to capture the things that my voice was not yet capable of, and for the first time in my life, I experienced the joy of having a completed musical project that I was proud to share with the world.
I continued striving to write better and better music, but one day Ravi stopped me in the middle of recording and told me “Dillon, you write awesome songs, but everything is sad and slow. Imagine what you could do if you changed things up and wrote a happy, more upbeat, song.”
by Dude Is Walk
Some tabletop turning tables doing some hip hop industrial beats, while government owned business do not pay income taxes to support the government. I never know what to write here. This is the music I did the past week or two. A Primus song, a experimental beat, and some heavy wall of sound.
The Nine Unknown Men is the new album by Danish dark-wave romantics, Fervency. A concept album, each song is one of nine sacred books, protected by one of the nine guardians entrusted with the ancient knowledge, wisdom, and technology deemed too dangerous for mankind to possess.
When the daily grind seems without purpose creating music is my way out. This was of course not by intent or design. I guess what drove me into making music as a solo-project (from playing bass in bands since I was 14 or 15 years old) was mostly curiosity. Could I record at home? How does it work and what can I do?
Satyr Syndicate Records is my project to re-record and master much of the music I have written. On the website, I play the part of Hermes, the messenger god. Hermes gives updates on how the excavations are going. Sometimes, there is drama with the bands. For example, there was a socialist funk band, called Smashpattern, who only put out a single EP, and then tragically disappeared into the jungles fighting for liberation. Satyr Syndicate is the group of satyrs who write, record and perform the songs. They represent various moods or genres. There is also the imagery of excavation and of Hades. Since I am re-recording, I am excavating stuff that was done long ago, like an archeological dig. Hades represents the other-world or sub-conscious, from which the music comes. Gravedigging in reverse.