A Passion Automatic

I love parentheses, ellipses, wardrobe crises and other things that end in -ses. Listen to me blab about whatever it is I'm blabbing about in the A.M.

So far, I am one-quarter of The Poor Souls of Pompeii, and I will also be releasing material under the moniker of "A Passion Automatic". Soon.
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Unheard history

History - is a collection of a set of narratives that a group of people with some level of authority haphazardly capture, agree upon to an extent to generalize and build a story, a tale, a myth, a lesson, a grand(er) narrative. The same came be said of personal history, or one’s own life experiences. When two people are asked to narrate a shared event, either they’ll have a coordinated, rehearsed version to share or if not compared, it will be very differently told, depending on the emotional complexity of it. Now think in terms of music, using the journey of sound and it’s critique one can map out a historical journey, a narrative of sounds and how they are construed by words, and that juxtaposition will give you a delightful taste of how ‘history’ happens.

A wonderful example of the process of history being recorded going awry (from not so long ago) is in this excerpt from the wikipedia page of Charles Mingus about a concert (later released as an LP): 

"Only one misstep occurred in this era: 1962’s Town Hall Concert. An ambitious program, it was plagued with troubles from its inception.[16]"

Adamant that things of greatness can be overly simplified and portrayed reductively and the belief that an artist, when in control of their own narrative can be robbed of credibility by ‘The Powers That (Review All That) Be,’ long ago, I had purchased a digitally remixed CD of said "misstep…(in) 1962’s Town Hall Concert", and much to my auditory pleasure and surprise, my predictions were indeed spot on. The glossy insert of literature in said CD case (which if absent, indicates a CD is not an original) was written by Brian Priestly, known most notably for his biography of Charles Mingus. In it he challenged this generally agreed upon narrative of the 1962 Charles Mingus New York Town Hall concert "…(being)…classified as…an abject failure…" by concisely crystallizing the reasons the released recordings of the concert were considered so, thus far, despite being directed by the maestro Mingus, himself who had ambitiously convinced a 30-piece band to to do an album as an experimental "open recording session with invited audience" versus a jazz concert which is also simply recorded as a matter of consequence. Mingus, was pushing boundaries and it had been recorded as a failure, how very myopic of The Powers That Be and popular opinion (unsurprisingly).

Priestly talks about how the very few tracks on the concert’s LP were also shortened, distorted versions, which were released without Charles Mingus’ consultation or knowledge. During the concert, the audience was frustrated and disappointed, by "…false starts and the incomplete performances intended to be edited later…" as they were unaware that these were in fact the nuts and bolts of a recording session, and expected a practiced concert with polished, end-products for the sake of performance to an audience, rather than what Mingus had designed - having simpler arrangements at the start of the performance to get the musicians used to each other "…break(ing) them in gently…" as Priestly theorized.

So the essential proponents of how the evening was documented and how it played out historically can be broken down into the following components; 

1) a producer: who ambitiously tried to produce an entire LP with < 3hrs of music in front of a live audience, 

2) a sound engineer: trying to capture the event without coordinating with the musicians, 

3) Mingus (musician and director): admitted to being unused to doing written arrangements, and who also kept adding new bits during rehearsals.

4) the 30-piece band: who disagreed whether or not the show was indeed over - as some musicians started packing up near midnight while others wished to go on and were even boo-ed at.

5) and finally, once the hall was cleared, (some of) the band stayed back to do a retake without the audience (which was a lot longer and of better quality) and yet somehow - mysteriously - this last retake, although produced in an extremely sound manner and musically stunning was not a part of the final release.

Due to this, selective audience opinions (oft referred to as reporting bias) and versions released before the one dug out and digitally remastered that I sought out, were what music critics were basing their idea of that infamous concert on, and it was giving a bad name to Mingus’ phenomenally groundbreaking endeavour by painting it nothing more than a failure, skewing historical perspectives of what actually happened, showing that history is in fact always subjective, even when it is something late enough in our times to have have the capability to be recovered and digitally remastered.

If you want to feel Faiz when you hear Mingus’ Freedom - part 1 and remember:

"This mule could be called stubborn and lazy 

But in a clever sorta way this mule could be workin’, waitin’ 

and learnin’ and plannin’ 

For a sacred kind of day. 

So stand fast young-old mule 

Soothe in contemplation 

Thy burning hope and aching thigh. 

Your stubbornness is ever-living 

And cruel anxiety is about to die.” 

- excerpt from Freedom, Mingus (1963)

And here’s a little something to all you wonderful musicians out there who are oft misunderstood, take a page out of the Life of Mingus, you make music for your own self first, don’t dumb yourself down because most people can’t understand - or don’t - they never will, it isn’t for them, it is for *you* - aur aqalmand ke liey ishara bhi kaafi hai. Cynical opinions will die a quick death, the louder they get. The truth of your sound will live on as will the story that resonates from within, no matter what history tries to suppress or pervert.

And live so your epitaph when read out, sounds like so because unlike Mingus’ epitaph, your life won’t have an alternative take.

~beautifully inspirational Pakistani music litters this piece as hidden/active links in phrases for you to unearth~

0 plays


Not ours! Contact if yours!

or, you know, someone’s hipflask-worth of whiskey. But a shot will do, too >.>

(via tocageasongbird)

New additions to Lattoo Labs! Have ukulele/glockenspiel, will band.

19 plays
Kayo Dot

Like A Kiss, soft, and wild,
with the delicate steps of petals
fallen into a stream

This swirling ballerina turns
in faint and sighing grandeur
across the floor to me

A monarch plays the violin to a summer’s afternoon

Whilst quietly, the earthworm adores the soil
in winter’s sparkling gloom.

It breaks away, growing, as the flowers do.

A Thunderhead embraces his enraptured lover,

And kisses with a gale that also makes the cattails shudder.

His tears cannot, as he proclaims his love,
be held with lightning back.

They fondly dance into an open window

And fondly dance with mine.

Our eyelashes weaken with a weight that is sweet and fine

And this feels like frogs and spiders in the sweet outside.

Tell me why world, unfathomable and good…

The beauty of everything is infinite and cruel.

An aeroplane, a puppet, an orange, a spoon.

a window, and outside… stars and the moon…

Lattoo, my new music project.

I don’t want to kiss you, or fuck you,
or love you, either.
Only one of those things I never had choice of,
until I asked about choice.
I only want to undo the loop
that drew us to this, so that I could know earlier
that we were always divided.
Sink your thumb out of the gouge of my eye,
I put it there, I put it there.
Go back in time, find a child,
get down, sit on your haunches
and tell me, tell me
it isn’t my fault for trying -
some sorts of apathy, crystallized between kin,
are just insurmountable.
“We were too different - “
Don’t, no more lies -
say truths, final truths - insoluble truths,
Truths that do not win wars,
but break them.
Go back, find me, clip my heart.
Sink your thumb into the gouge of my eye five,
ten, fifteen years earlier.
Break my heart sooner, so I do not have to
reforge myself everyday in the hunkering down
of the sun when it slashes the day from the night.
The wax cooling between ribs, the molten vertebrae,
wick waning, stuttering like the sound of your name.
Say before now what you have in selfishness
never said,
brutal mercy, “I wanted to be loved,
just not by you.”
In the textbooks the heart is muscle and organ both,
all children deserve to know sooner
when they are making music for the deaf.

I think I’ve gotten myself into a very expensive and time consuming addiction. This pedal chain is still a fledgling. Need a line selector, a (couple of) line6 DL-4(s), a nice reverb, a volume pedal, a compressor and a noise reducer. Current setup: tu-2 into MXR boost/overdrive, into a ProCo RAT, a DS-1, DD-3, all going into a tc electronics ditto looper. Huzzah. #guitar #gear


Everyone asks me about my “long distance relationship.” You see, my husband (and my partner for 8 years) lives in Texas. I, however, live in New York. I used to live in Texas, but had to move for graduate studies. We are both immigrants and have applied for green cards (he was lucky enough to…

I wish her and her partner the best.

2,019 plays
Circa Survive,
On Letting Go


You’ll keep it on the inside
Cause that’s the safest place
That’s the safest place to hide 

You were barely holding on.

(via zplaceee-deactivated20141007)