MARTIN RADICH



www.martinradich.com



 
Foetus – The Ballad of Sisyphus T. Jones

 

Jim Thirlwell is the man. He has been since I was fourteen. At an intimate Elysian Fields gig in Manhattan I spotted Jim. I approached him with the intention of dissecting the right side of his brain. Instead, shaking his hand, I said this, I said, "I'm your number one fan."  

 
Tonstartssbandht – Sinkhole, Storm & Sandwich

These guys currently inhabit that space where creativity is spontaneous and combustible. To my mind this domain is where the devil resides. It's a place I've been to once or twice but I'd be quite content to make it permanent, to pull up stakes here and pummel 'em down there.

 
Woods – Wouldn't Waste  

I love noise. But now and again a quieter note is needed.

 

Francoise Hardy – Et m e

 

Quality French pop is a studio's best friend.

 

Doo Rag – John Henry

Bob Log 111 and Thermos Malling make me feel damn fine. These gentlemen wrote some damn fine music. A damn shame they didn't do more.

 
Gil Scott-Heron – Where Did The Night Go  

This song succinctly communicates the inability to express one's self. I believe this quirk of personality to be inherent within the creative soul.

 
Rowland S. Howard – Autoluminescent  

To hear the eulogy written and read by Genevieve McGuckin is to understand the impact the gifted can have.

 
Lee Hazlewood – Pour Man  

An epic.

 
The Residents – You yesyesyes Again  

The output of The Residents is quite incredible. Their dedication to the cause spurs me onwards and upwards.

 
O Paradis – My Lovely Val  

Val Denham is a good friend of mine; she's an astonishing artist.

 

 

 









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