"Dammit people, I am NOT up here casting spells!" my band teacher often brayed when rehearsals got stuck. Arrington de Dionyso, though, just might be casting spells. Sure sounds like it. He sings everything on this damn disc in Indonesian, which would send me scrambling for an Indonesian-English dictionary had I such. The artiste was kind enough to send me the English translations. That helped. With comprehension, I mean. Not that it shaves off much mustard. To wit, in part: "I am the lion/ That devours the wings of angels/ That drinks the blood of the dragon/ The blood of the dragon/ shape shifting beast/ Reptilian beast/ Birds, fish, and serpents/ Endless forms, reptilian forms... I'm wicked and wild, eternally naughty/ Old as the moon..."
And that's a sampler. The ariste wrote most of it out in all-caps but I didn't want to impale you through the eyeballs. I also left out the part about consuming other lesser animals in various arabesque gnawings. But you get the general idea. Like I said, it's all in Indonesian. In Indonesian, at least, Arrington conjures deep and liquid-y effortless limbo-downs into subbasement throat singing (picked up as much from Blind Willie Johnson as anyone from Tuva). The tuneage bashes along behind the beat, energy against weight, a couple of competitive breakdancers pop-locking their way to sunlight from under a Goodwill earthquake.
And I can't sign off without talking about the bass clarinet. This man knows bass clarinet like no one since Captain Beefheart's elusive cousin the Mascara Snake. In fact, this man probably cuts the Mascara Snake. This man takes clarinet bellows to blow up his own portable universes. Then he lounges in them all day. I want everyone to own this record. I want a worldwide warren of witchery.
"Dammit people, I am NOT up here casting spells!" my band teacher often brayed when rehearsals got stuck. Arrington de Dionyso, though, just might be casting spells. Sure sounds like it. He sings everything on this damn disc in Indonesian, which would send me scrambling for an Indonesian-English dictionary had I such. The artiste was kind enough to send me the English translations. That helped. With comprehension, I mean. Not that it shaves off much mustard. To wit, in part: "I am the lion/ That devours the wings of angels/ That drinks the blood of the dragon/ The blood of the dragon/ shape shifting beast/ Reptilian beast/ Birds, fish, and serpents/ Endless forms, reptilian forms... I'm wicked and wild, eternally naughty/ Old as the moon..."
And that's a sampler. The ariste wrote most of it out in all-caps but I didn't want to impale you through the eyeballs. I also left out the part about consuming other lesser animals in various arabesque gnawings. But you get the general idea. Like I said, it's all in Indonesian. In Indonesian, at least, Arrington conjures deep and liquid-y effortless limbo-downs into subbasement throat singing (picked up as much from Blind Willie Johnson as anyone from Tuva). The tuneage bashes along behind the beat, energy against weight, a couple of competitive breakdancers pop-locking their way to sunlight from under a Goodwill earthquake.
And I can't sign off without talking about the bass clarinet. This man knows bass clarinet like no one since Captain Beefheart's elusive cousin the Mascara Snake. In fact, this man probably cuts the Mascara Snake. This man takes clarinet bellows to blow up his own portable universes. Then he lounges in them all day. I want everyone to own this record. I want a worldwide warren of witchery.