Tuesday, December 6, 2011

Sunday, November 27, 2011

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

mimi dies

'Marcello she is dead' 7.57
'MIMI MIMI!' 8.54

Thursday, November 17, 2011

Thursday, September 22, 2011

from The Tin Drum by Günter Grass

To limit the damage, for I've always loved fine glassware, I restricted myself, when they tried to take my drum away at night, even though it belonged in bed with me, to punishing one or more light bulbs from the fourfold effort of our living-room lamp. Thus on my fourth birthday, in early September nineteen twenty-eight, I plunged the entire assembled birthday company - my parents, the Bronskis, Grandmother Koljaiczek, the Schefflers, and the Greffs, who had given me everything under the sun: tin soldiers, a sailing ship, a fire engine, but no tin drum - plunged the whole lot of them, who wanted to waste my time playing with tin soldiers, with all this fire-engine nonsense, who begrudged me my battered but trusty drum, who planned to take it away and palm off on me instead a silly little ship with the top sails set all wrong, all those with eyes only to overlook me and my wishes - plunged them all, with an expanding circular scream that slew all four light bulbs of our hanging lamp into primeval darkness.

(translated by Breon Mitchell, Vintage Books, London, 2010, page 56)

Monday, September 19, 2011

love this
favourite moment about 1.47 take me awaaaiiiiy
some great performances

Saturday, September 17, 2011

makes me feel wierd for all sorts of reasons

Monday, August 1, 2011

david bennett talks about his kindheit.

Monday, July 25, 2011

happy birthday to me! this song is so dark.

Friday, July 22, 2011

from The Tin Drum by Günter Grass

This excerpt describes when Oskar and his family first discover what he can do with his voice. In the German version, Grass inventively uses a verb 'zersingen' to describe the phenomena in which Oskar shatters glass with his voice. The translator, Breon Mitchell, creates a verb for the english version: 'singshatter'.

"...they planned to take that drum away from me and replace it. A stupid piece of chocolate was offered as bait. Mama held it out, pursing her lips. It was Matzerath who reached for my crippled drum with a show of severity. I clung to a wreck. He pulled. My strength, which was barely adequate for drumming, began to fail. One red flame after another slid slowly away, the rim of the frame was about to slip from my grasp, when, for the first time, Oskar, who till that day had been deemed a quiet, almost well-behaved child, produced his first destructively effective scream: the polished round crystal that protected the honey-yellow face of the grandfather clock from dust and dying flies shattered and fell, still splintering, to the reddish-brown floorboards - for the carpet didn't quite reach to the base of the clock. The interior of the precious clock, however, was undamaged: the pendulum continued serenely - if you can say this of a pendulum - on its way, and the same for the hands. Not even the chimes, which reacted sensitively, almost hysterically, to the slightest jolt, to beer wagons rolling by on the street, gave any sign of having been impressed by my scream; only the glass gave a start, but one that startled it to bits.

'The clock is broken!' cried Matzerath, and released the drum. With a brief glance I satisfied myself that my scream had done no real damage to the clock, that only the crystal was gone. But for Matzerath, and for Mama and Uncle Jan Bronski, who was paying his usual Sunday afternoon call, more than the glass covering the clock's face seemed to have fallen to pieces. They blanched, exchanged shifting, helpless glances, reached out for the tiled stove, seized hold of piano and buffet, were afraid to stir from the spot, and Jan Bronski's dry lips moved, as he cast his eyes upward in supplication, in what I still believe today was my uncle's attempt to utter a prayer for aid and mercy, something like O Lamb of God, who taketh away the sins of the world - misere nobis. And his text three times and then one Lord I am not worthy that Thou shouldst enter under my roof, say but the word...

Of course the Lord said not a word. After all, the clock wasn't broken, just the glass. But the grown-ups have a strange and childish relationship to their clocks, childish in the sense in which I was never a child. Yet the clock may well be the grown-ups' greatest achievement. Be that as it may: to the extant that grown-ups can be creative, and with diligence, ambition, and a little luck actually are, they become creatures of their own epoch-making inventions the moment they create them.

But the clock remains nothing without the grown-up. He winds it, sets it forward or back, takes it to the clockmaker to be checked, cleaned, and if necessary repaired. Like the cry of the cuckoo that fades too soon, like overturned salt cellars, spiders in the morning, black cats from the left, the uncle's portrait that falls from the wall when the hook pulls from the plaster, just as with mirrors, grown-ups see more behind and in clocks than clocks can possibly signify.

Mama, who in spite of a few whimsical fancies was the most level-headed, even if she could be flighty at times, and always interpreted any apparent sign in her favour, found words to save the situation.

'Broken glass brings good luck!' she cried, snapping her fingers brought out dustpan and brush, and swept up the shards of good luck.

If I take my mama's words at face value, I brought my parents, my relatives, acquaintances, and even strangers plenty of good luck, for every time someone tried to take my drum, windowpanes, glasses of beer, empty beer bottles, perfume bottles redolent of spring, crystal bowls heaped with artificial fruit, in short, all glassware blown in glassworks by the glass blowers' art and sold on the market, from plain glass to art glass, were screamshattered, singshattered, shardshaterred.

(Translated by Breon Mitchell, Vintage Books, London, 2010, page 54 - 56)

Friday, July 1, 2011

Little Jimmy Scott

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

i'm addicted

one theory was that the wind matched the resonance of the bridge

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

buy your phonetics fan tshirt here!

banshee in the movies = a sonic scream in the movies.
never experienced that before.

Saturday, June 11, 2011

sympathetic vibration is making me giddy.
"to unleash the forces of the universe, we have to work with sympathetic vibrations"
he used to watch the windows in church vibrate when the choir sang. thats how it all started.

or listen to this post.

"Welcome back John Ernst Worrell Keely"

Friday, June 10, 2011

whats with the parrots? nice juxtaposition.

Thursday, June 2, 2011

i am singing into this drum...

Saturday, May 14, 2011

love the phantom. sometimes people say i look like the phantom with my mask.

Saturday, April 30, 2011

i first learnt about the possibilities of vocal power from my first and loveliest singing teacher who said that caruso cracked the crystal in the chandelier with his high es. i used to be a boy soprano and she would teach me and her little dogs would bark at her feet and lots of birds in and out of cages would tweet along with the lessons from outside by the pool. that was runaway bay in the 90s but i am not a boy soprano anymore.

Sunday, April 10, 2011

TANGOWERK by NHOAH - Dancing On The Volcano - NHOAH feat. Headvoice (Short Version) from TANGOWERK by NHOAH on Vimeo.

headvoice sings dancing on the volcano in tangowerk by nhoah.

Monday, February 28, 2011

invisible becomes visible

Sunday, February 20, 2011

excuse me but what are you lookin at?
foto by york wegerhoff

Saturday, February 19, 2011


Thursday, February 10, 2011


so much passion

Sunday, January 23, 2011

dada in the dinosaur in gdᾹnsk

when dada went inside that dinosaur i didnt know what to expect
but i ended up learning something about myself
cause we both screamed

oh what but to think or do

for to but there to be
for to but there to be
for to but there to be
with the seeings
with the beeings of my home planet
to be normal amongst mine



Saturday, December 11, 2010


she makes me think i can fly everytime
from o superman by laurie anderson...

So hold me, Mom, in your long arms. So hold me,
Mom, in your long arms.
In your automatic arms. Your electronic arms.
In your arms.
So hold me, Mom, in your long arms.
Your petrochemical arms. Your military arms.
In your electronic arms.

Sunday, October 10, 2010


i screamed so loud
i screamed so loud
i screamed so loud i made things change around me
in ssssubstance, content and form



Thursday, September 30, 2010

worm captured!

and then she was captured
and put inside again
to make babies for the record companies
so that the people would have to buy

mother earworm its ok
making babies everyday
so many babies
so so so so so many babies

Sunday, September 12, 2010


thats a bridge over stream, bridge in the middle of street, on concrete above river. troubled water? i dont know. and if you stand there in the middle, in the inbetween, you can hear the water going 1. under you, 2. over you, 3. through you just like the stream in the forest. just like you always wanted.

and in the column of the bridge there is a troll and theres a hole - big enough for an ear - which makes it an ear hole - an ear hole troll hole - hole to hear a troll with your ear. stick your ear in the hole. trolls eat ears. listen to troll as it works away underground in its little complex. listen to your ear being eaten. go on. troll drone like. foto by york wegerhoff

Thursday, August 19, 2010

worm set free!

i had to learn the worm go free
i wanted to sleep through the night
so i put her out on the street
and people laughed at her
as i cried
i hope she will be ok
photo by york wegerhoff

Thursday, August 12, 2010

headvoice machine

the singingmachine
the supercomputer
the jury
has it done as we have asked of it?

Friday, August 6, 2010

worm in my bed

the next thing i knew there was a worm in my bed. i yelled out.. "OH MY! THERE'S A WORM IN MY BED" The worm didnt flinch. it just lay there in my bed and i thought gee thats annoying because i only have a few options. either i sleep with the worm which may be strange cause i have never slept with a worm before. or i remove the worm from the bed either by encouraging or forcing or throwing the worm from the bed. and then probably even if the worm goes i wont be able to sleep until i have cleaned the sheets. and even if i clean the sheets i may not sleep so peacefully because i might always be thinking, what if the worm comes back - or what if the worm had babies - and so the fine and very important relationship that i have with my sleeping space - my bed - it is now in a new state of flux and the security that i took for granted is not there. Oh my theres a worm in my bed. oh my! my life has been invaded and i am standing around unable to decide what to do, where to go, how to move forward.


i am going to go back to a few weeks ago. these two people came to my house and they exchanged my automat - machine that has balls inside that you have to buy and you dont know which one you are going to get - well these two people came and brought some drinking liquids and repacked the balls and then the next day the machine was gone. its not even my machine really. well it is. it was. it was given to me by an austrian woman who i helped move house. it was in her cellar and she didnt know what to do with it. it wasnt actually hers either. it was actually her lovers. and he was in south america. so she made a split second decision and she asked me to take it. and i did and left it in my hallway knowing full well that it would soon be taken away from me. and then it was by those two people. i wonder if i will ever see or hear from them again.


i disappeared and i have some things to share. but one step at a time. so first to keep me calm in the face of all the work there is to be done... some... windmills.

Friday, July 23, 2010

boy scout

i never wanted to be a boy scout til now i never wanted to hang around to hang around i never wanted to see the world i never wanted to go out i never wanted to be a boy scout til now but somethings going into i dont know i never wanted to see you go til now i never wanted to be in crowd i never wanted to go along to go along i never wanted to make up scenes in my head i never wanted to dress up in my best friends clothes i never wanted to like spring i never wanted to be in the company of those others i never wanted to share my things i never wanted to be angry i never wanted to be sad i never wanted to leave i never wanted to go i never wanted to. photo by york wegerhoff

Sunday, July 11, 2010

with drooping wings

With drooping wings ye cupids come
And scatter roses
On her tomb:
Soft and gentle as her heart.
Keep here your watch, and never part...
dido and aeneas act three purcell

Saturday, July 10, 2010

infos about the vcs

the magical vagina in my throat. man woman all combined. asexual creature of the night. ambisexual singing magician.

Friday, July 9, 2010

not a bad set of pipes

hoorah hoorah
heresay and blasphemy
hoodlums in the night
heronymous anonymous rex
for here is
the plight of the
the plight of the
the plight of the pipes!

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

sing in time

inside rhythms versus outside rhythms
sehr kompliziertes geschichte
tic toc tic toc tic toc tic toc....etc etc
la la la lala la la la la..etc etc
oh the sun is out!

Tuesday, June 1, 2010

sometimes i just lie in bed thinking of all the good i'd do if i just got out there and sang a little more. foto by york wegerhoff

Friday, May 21, 2010

dorothy finds the man behind the curtain

"if you were really great and powerful then you'd keep your promises"
toto is such a smart dog that he can expose the wizard by opening a curtain. go toto!

Friday, April 9, 2010

scratch my head and i'll scratch yours back. thats what i call duet. thats what i call two part harmony. just like friends. we can keep each other happy. pat me. pat me and make the pain go away. till the itch is gone. foto by york wegerhoff.