|
I know. I walked in and I was just like "Oh my god it's a decent sized record shop ENTIRELY FILLED WITH OBSCURE FREE JAZZ!". The pile of things I desperately wanted to get but couldn't due to needing the money to get back to the UK was another 300 euros probably. They had just huge piles of pretty much every avant-garde jazz artist I love and a decent bit of noise stuff too. Insanity. Listening to the Lane/Vandermark now and it's totally off the charts on the funk/tearing-it-up-ometer.
__________________
The toothaches got worse, she dreamed of disembodied voices from whose malignance there was no appeal, the soft dusk of mirrors out of which something was about to walk, and empty rooms that waited for her. Your gynaecologist has no test for what she was pregnant with.
|