Jungle Up Nick Pirog

Five Times Surprise brings together a volatile mix of longtime compatriots and newly forged relationships. The distinguished improvisers all boast exceptionally diverse resumes. More than finding common ground, they reveal a vast universe of possibilities fueled by creative conflagration and genre blurring. “We’re improvisers who can walk into a room and create something together,” says the project's original instigator Henry Kaiser, who then listed the salient qualities of his fellow players here: the ability to listen, kindness, generosity, and—rare in this electric realm—a sense of humor. All those factors were at work on this new recording.

Un récit de l'expédition au coeur de la forêt amazonienne organisée par l'auteur avec huit personnes gravement malades. Ils ont effectué ce voyage pour expérimenter les traitements des chamans. L'ouvrage présente leurs pratiques et des principes de la sagesse native afin que le lecteur puisse les intégrer à sa propre vie. …

When Grinderman released their debut in 2007, Nick Cave, Warren Ellis, Jim Sclavunos, and Martyn Casey created a reckless, drunken animal of an alter ego to the Bad Seeds. The album bridged territory mined by everyone from the Stooges to Suicide to Bo Diddley. Again recorded in the company of producer Nick Launay, Grinderman 2 is a more polished and studied affair than its predecessor, but it's a more sonically adventurous, white-hot rock & roll record. The opening, "Mickey Mouse and the Goodbye Man," comes closest to the songs on the previous album, but feels like it comes by way of Patti Smith's "Radio Ethiopia," Howlin' Wolf, and the Scientists. It's pure scummy, sleazy, in-the-red dissonant rock. The swampy, ribald blues of "Kitchenette," features Casey's bass roiling around distorted, Echoplexed electric guitar, electric bouzouki, and jungle-like tom-toms and kick drums. Cave does his best lecher-in-heat blues howl – if Charles Bukowski had sung the blues, this is what it would have sounded like.