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With special thanks to muziksucker.
I won't tell you about my Blackman love, about how I found most tracks of this album a very long time ago but not itself completely, how I begged for some people, from some message boards of which I was not even a member, who seem to have it, just for the sake of delivering this amazing work for our trusted and devoted followers. I'm too modest to tell you any of this. Just get down on your knees to show your thankfulness to the spirit of muziksucker, a ghost music blogger.
I will tell you about elsethings; actually this great album was just an excuse to babble around in a late night frenzy: I've begun to pack for a 60 factor sunoil vacation during which I firmly decided to read books shitty enough to damp in saltwater and oily fingerprints, yet I also have begun to read Margaret Atwood's The Penelopiad tonight, why I know not, but I have to finish it by dawn. I can't take it to the over-tanned old men atmosphere. Anyways, while reading, at a moment, words flashed behind a mosquito that was just approaching: "yes i said yes i will Yes". Where did it come from? From an epigraph of course, a "molly bloom" attached next neatly. Epigraph from which book? A book that I read in my dorm's kitchen, I remember perfectly to that point. Perfectly that I felt the same pain when I had first seen that molly in black letters on dark-creamy sheet, and had carefully avoided the pain to continue with my reading, to start the part that epigraphed, and care-folly had not thought about Ulysses at all, but molly. And the great Yeses panging my heart. I cannot remember that book still, yet it is not important now. It is important and at the same time terrifying that literature works with echoes, I only want to say. I resentfully admit that I have not read Ulysses yet, except from its last words yes i say yes i will yes, and in any case it comes back when I read something else about odyssey and penelope, not even in reference to the former. Or should I have said that it is myths that have echoes? In separate places, around separate campfires, through different mouths, they find their ways in the ear, in the heart. What a unity. And I won't tell why a molly causes much pain to let ignorance about the rest. And you can't guess. But anyways. These all were about e-mails sent, then repeated in a form of charismatic confession to public, for the love of some anonymity. These all are about misconstructed links. About boredom. About a torturing fascination. About devotion for coincidental disconnection. About yes. About a yes to everything. About being able to say yes to everything. About eternal return. About being able to move to return. About penetration to be able to move to return. About the impossibility of this. About the possibility of everything.
Thanks for our neighbor upstairs for sparing me some internet to pump your head up with forty centigrade İzmir havası.
Not: Blush'un Making Of'unu izledikten sonra şüphelerimin doğru çıktığını gördüm; albümdeki Victim parçası Blush'daki ilk monoloğa kaynaklık etmiş cidden. "Amerikalı bir kadının şarkısından yola çıkarak yazdı metinleri Rob" deniyor. Şimdi bırendın neden delirmesin. Ekolar diye boşuna demiyorum. Hem Vandekeybus da öyle diyor: "Beş bin yıllık öyküleri yeniden manifest eyledik". Acıyı bal eyledik.
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Böyle malak gibi albüm upload etmek ve bir şey yazamamaktan dolayı üzüntülerimi bildirmeden geçesim yok -hayat gayeleri boğazlarda-iki kelime etmeye mecalin hasretiyle sivas kangal gibi albümü paylaşasım var, sayanora sam
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Romantic gesture with woollen plans
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Tuti-i mu’cize-güyem ne desem laf değil,of anam
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haykıracak nefesim kalmasa bile...
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