This Blue Lawn
Sadayatana Podcast #43
Average Bitrate: 146kbps mp3
Podcast Mirror Site: archive.org
Direct URL: this-blue-lawn
Review at archive.org: Sadayatana #43
Starting with a mashup of a new track by Mystified: Satyr's Drone. I paired it with a homemade 78 I found on archive.org. I think they made it for their loved ones in the war. It's cute but also sounds like the Satyr's of Mystified's track so I went with it. Especially all the laughing.
Then we had a live (with one overdub) performance by Muied Lumens. A track he prepared specially for this show. I had listened to it a couple times in the car --but really didn't get into until I listened to it with headphones. Take my advice and do the same.
I really like the slowed down classical pieces by Alan Morse Davies. I did this myself on a show that was not podcast. With some Bach choral music. It was nice but I got some crap about it in the chatroom. So it was with trepidation that I played these. But they seemed to be loved in the chat. All is well. Enjoy.
|00:00||Reg, Eva, Mrs. Sikes||Greetings|
|07:48||Subterrestrial||The Old Water Tank|
|27:35||Carlos D. Perales||Mystic nits|
|36:49||Burning Artist||Piano Birds Frozen Fall|
|40:52||Alan Morse Davies||Nocturne [Grieg] (Mischa Elman & Josef Bonime, 1919)|
|112:55||Alan Morse Davies||Phonautograph 1860|
|115:57||Alan Morse Davies||Phonautograph 1859|
|117:38||Alan Morse Davies||Kvitøya|
|132:46||The Unseelie Court||Singularity|
|135:52||Planet tolerance||Other World|
|140:32||dnp x.citer||intro/chapter alpha (excerpt)|
|140:55||Grind Out||Lenin at factory|
|143:06||Kirill Platonkin||Pinewood Spell|
|152:27||Alan Morse Davies||Claire de Lune (Hotel Commodore Ensemble, 1927)|
|169:05||Grind Out||Glitch to Switch|
|172:42||Hesychia & Infinitum||[child]|
|176:45||Enrico Caruso||La Donna e Mobile (Verdi From Rigoletto)|
He had come a long way to this blue lawn, and his dream must have seemed so close that he could hardly fail to grasp it. He did not know that it was already behind him, somewhere back in that vast obscurity beyond the city, where the dark fields of the republic rolled on under the night.
- F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby