Crow’s Nest 43: 112022
Trapped In The Belly Of The Machine, And The Machine Is Bleeding To Death (And Also You Are Not Actually Dying And Can Physically Escape Fairly Easily)
Hey there, and welcome to issue #43 of Crow’s Nest. We’re officially in winter mode here in Chicago now, even if the snow is not yet fully sticking to the ground. I hope your fall was lovely. Thanks, as always, for opening this and reading these words. There’s an essay this issue—on Twitter, yes—and the usual music recommendations below.
I’ve always described my usage of Twitter (@embirdened), to some degree, as a moderate addiction. This has little to do with any clinical evaluation and more that, while I am a heavy user of Twitter, I can usually reign in some of my worst tendencies I could have on it compared to others. I can go a short while without checking it—I’ve never succumbed to the temptation of buying in-flight Wifi to post or scroll the timeline—though it does stress me out to not check it (or feel like I can’t) for some time. I’ve never felt more than a momentary obligation to post on a topic du jour, I can usually avoid posting the worst shit my brain comes up with, and while I would appreciate more followers and attention on the platform, I lack the interest and declarative narcissism to routinely engage in the conflict or combativeness needed to truly be a power user with a large following and all that that brings. I’m too diplomatic, in that regard. I’m mostly content to hang out, stay up to date on what’s happening, check out the intriguing things my followers bring to my attention, and occasionally throw my 2 cents on something into the void for others’ consideration. I can count on one hand the number of times in my like 8.5 years on the site that I’ve been told, in effect, to ‘touch grass’—to log off and spend some time in the real world outside your online bubble—which is as good of an indictor as any as to not hugely problematic usage of the service.
The existence I have on the site, along with everyone else’s, is, as I’m sure you’re aware, in jeopardy of going down entirely at the disastrous helm of new owner (and world’s richest dumbass) Elon Musk. (It may already be down by the time you read this.) The details and theories behind what’s going on are as numerous as the individual threads and antics are, but in my estimation here’s a broad outline: Musk, endlessly frustrated and upset at not receiving the universal praise and support he craves and believes he deserves—Twitter being one of the few spots the rich and/or powerful may be told ‘no’ or ‘fuck you’—put out an overvalued offer for the advertising platform social media site, possibly in jest. Twitter’s board accepted, and with Musk not fully realizing the obligations in the paperwork he sent out until the time came to enforce the contract, he spent months attempting to find a way out of his financially stupid decision. Unable to do so, he followed through on his purchase right before a looming court date would have forced his hand.
Believing a bunch of right wing blowhards and grifters’ grievances around censorship content moderation policies and verification status obsession to be Twitter’s true problems, caused by the platform being overstaffed, captured, and run by lazy libtard squishes (instead of, in my opinion, the site’s status being a predictable result of a company thrust into highly public, political positions surrounding bedrock values of speech and expression, while trying to maintain respectability for its customers, advertisers), Musk first set out to reform the verification system into an expansive subscription service in the name of fiscal stabilization. A haphazard, rushed product was released and undermined by people using it to sow chaos by imitating brands. That was put on a metaphorical back burner for a bit and Musk and his enablers, fully high on their supply of their above beliefs and never fully understanding what Twitter is and how it works, began pushing unreasonable demands on the staff—most prominently, an immediate demand for ‘hardcore’ 80 hour minimum workweeks—and purging anyone expressing dissent over Musk’s impulsive decision making. In the 2 weeks since Musk’s takeover approximately 90% of staff have left, whether voluntary or not, including full engineering teams responsible for maintaining some of Twitter’s most basic and critical functionalities. (Anecdotally, many who have stayed appear to be H1-B visa holders, who will be deported from the U.S. if unemployed for 60 days, itself a major injustice worthy of more detailed examination elsewhere.) Already many features and functions of the site have noticeably degraded, with many experts believing an inevitable technical issue taking down the service entirely will likely occur within the next 2 weeks or so. The World Cup, historically a moment of significant stress for the platform, will likely hasten this demise.
Many have described Twitter using hell-related metaphors, for the unending anxiety of real-world, real-time tragedies the site documented, alongside utterly insipid Discourse and mob mentalities around the strangest events and phenomena fueled by the world’s most poorly socialized narcissists; we’re going on 5 days of conversation surrounding why it’s bad/problematic to make chili for your new college kid neighbors subsisting on pizza. At the same time, while this is probably partially Stockholm Syndrome, Twitter has also been a good place for low stakes ‘hanging out’ online. At its best you can set aside the performative, overly manicured nature of other platforms—particularly if you’re not photogenic or good with photo/video—and shoot out a text-primary miniature: a half-formed joke; momentary weird situation or observation; peculiar turn of phrase; witty response; your own theory into something; a ‘now playing’ or ‘now watching’ update; minimal context reaction to sports; etc.; and usually not experience anything too weird about it. “I’m eating a sandwich” or “Saw someone with a jeurse at Trader Joe’s” don’t really fit in elsewhere online, but feel nice or at home on Twitter.
The site is unpredictable; you never know what someone might introduce to you and when it might occur, whether positive or negative, and many of those things have been nice for me. I’ve encountered a lot of music I wouldn’t have otherwise found, and other recommendations and suggestions (skincare, what to eat/drink, things to do/consider, all that jazz) have enriched my life in ways I probably would not have encountered elsewhere online or in the real world. For all of the parasociality and isolation one might encounter on social media, Twitter has been a good way to casually meet people and develop or maintain relationships with them, something I as an introvert struggle with. It’s cliché to say the best part of Twitter was the friends we made along the way, but yeah, actually, I have made friends through the platform or otherwise maintained friendships through casual observation and interaction on the hell site. I’m meeting one of them for drinks this evening, and I’m willing to bet (based on his tweets) he’s thankful we’ve come to know each other and develop a casual, low-stress, nontransactional relationship with few external entanglements and issues, having recently moved to Chicago and dealing with a lot surrounding that. That’s not nothing and of significant value to many.
Many people, myself included, see the slow/fast demise of Twitter as akin to the sinking of the Titanic, with attendant exhortations to ‘go down with the ship’ or dance or the deck while it sinks. Some have or will be crushed in the waterlogged machinery; others will discover the water has the depth and circumference of a kiddie pool and move on accordingly. As us Twitter denizens figure out where to go next as we are soon to be displaced from one of our favored sites—top contenders for this appear to be Instagram, Substack, Mastodon and Discord—and make plans, like end of school year yearbook signings, to stay in touch, somewhere else, somehow else, there’s a weird feeling to it all. We always knew we could log off, but I’m not sure how many people considered the possibility that we may not be able to log back on.
As for me personally, Twitter is my primary social media site and, in many ways, the biggest online connection I have to the outside world. Since irl socializing has returned following pandemic disruptions, I’ve been trying to expand my circle of in-person friendships and hanging out in person with them. A perpetual work in progress, yes, and thank you to those Twitter followers who have expanded on that (I’ll shout out Rishi, Sanjeev and Mark here). But where I go online from here? I’m not 100% sure. I will probably center myself publicly around Crow’s Nest—the Substack features recently rolled out seem worth exploring for casual conversation—and figure out Mastodon (again) and Discord (for the first time). Maybe inquire into joining some group chats, I’ve never been in too many of those. Hard to say. Any recommendations (or perhaps maybe you want me to join you elsewhere?) are appreciated below:
Anyway here are those music recommendations you’re probably here for now:
Short tape of noisy lo-fi post-punk out of Berlin. It’s got that tom heavy, no wave-y chug to its drums, some notes of death rock like an Ever/Never Records release, held together by thick slabs of bass to smooth out the guitar. I hear things like GLAAS, Rouge, Girlsperm in it … perhaps (the makings of) an alternate universe/contemporary Raincoats? I think you know the vibe at this point and whether or not to jump in, even if it cuts off a little too soon like a great conversation/connection with a stranger you weren’t expecting.
Similarly operating across the pond in another not fully Anglicized cultural hotspot—Montreal—is this tape from Private Lives, if you’re not fully satisfied by BRAK. It’s got that Canadian post-punk sound I enjoy, so I’m sure you won’t be surprised to hear it’s been released via Feel It Records. A touch of VISION 3D too and some other Francophone influences I can’t fully place as well.
The Popular People’s Front is not, as the name might imply, a revolutionary political movement, though I’m sure the folks running this outsider dance music outpost have a manifesto heavily namechecking Hakim Bey somewhere out there. Another group I no longer exactly recall where/when I started following, always on the verge of unfollowing, and then! A legitimately great release by them. I probably mean ‘fun’ more than ‘good’ there, though given a big point of dancing is to have fun, and a couple people incapable of significant movement inside smartbar last night were really bringing things down near me at times … anyway, this one is tagged as ‘disco’ and incorporates retro sampling/styling of string sections of the sort lost with DAW-centric contemporary producers, which is refreshing for me. The highlight and track that really catches my ear is ‘Firecracker’ which, if you found the breakdowns on ‘Honey Badger’ to be intense, brace yourself before it starts playing. I’ll place an order for some ‘ammo’ like this shortly to help contribute to the cause, yeah.
Electro/IDM outpost CPU Records’ 113th record is from label mainstay Tim Koch. While the palette and impression is distinctly IDM, the overall sound is original enough to be worth a closer listen, particularly as Koch demonstrates a stronger melodic sensibility than your typical producer assembling patterns in a DAW. There’s a distinctly atemporality to placing this music within the genre—they released this fucker on MiniDisc!—and the slower pace is intriguing. I dislike being reliant on Aphex Twin comparisons but ‘Rick Motors’ could pass as slightly slowed-down Syro session material; others come across like Richard in a downtempo mode trying to out-wooze Boards of Canada. Perhaps this general slowness of the material is what gives Koch some space to work things and ultimately gain an edge over my ear compared to most of his labelmates.
Hidden Gem Alert: this 1977 album from Joyce Moreno, produced by Claus Ogerman and featuring notable studio players, slipped through the cracks after recording. Assembled from the ether by Far Out Recordings—of mixed objective audio quality due to master tape degradation, it’s fine if you’re not an audiophile with a pole up your ass—this suite of airy but not insubstantial Brazilian music during the military dictatorship radiates tropicália with a dark underside even if you’re not fluent in Portuguese. Obviously claiming direct influence is anachronistic but to my ear you can really hear how music like this would go on to influence, for example, Stereolab’s Laetitia Sadier in the mix. The opening version of ‘Feminina’ is the highlight for many crate diggers but I’m drawn to the suite’s back half personally.
Another Hidden Gem Alert: Blank Forms has recently released 3 albums of material from Lafayette, Louisiana originating saxophonist Dickie Landry (and an associate of Philip Glass). The highlight of the 3, for me, is Solos, a lightning in a bottle one-off free jazz concert from him and a crew of Louisiana musicians (and Alan Braufman). What keeps my attention here is the, frankly, insanely high energy, propulsive drumming from David Lee, tying things together and keeping the crew from succumbing to the most self-masturbatory impulses in free jazz. When asked ‘If you could travel back in time to any era, where would you go?’, my tendency is to respond that the lack of modern technology would make the past suck more than you might expect, but I would love to go and be there for phenomenal past concerts I did/could not attend. The Leo Castelli Gallery, NYC, Feb. 19, 1972 is now on my list.
Tech house may be simultaneously an easy target for punching down on dance music and the vital glue holding together DJ sets worldwide, but I can’t really imagine anyone who dislikes Call Super because of that label, which he’s never really shied away from. It helps that that he judiciously prioritizes quality over quantity in his release schedule, and retains a dreamy, jazzy melodicism in much of his work which keeps headphone/home listeners like myself engaged. His latest single finds himself moving into more psychedelic and U.K. garage territories with plenty of room for engaging sprawl. Fans of Four Tet’s ‘Morning Side’ especially should check this one out if they’ve not already.
Stop me if you’ve heard this one before, but … producer who had a fairly intriguing release I’ve since forgotten about, kept following, always think about unfollowing whenever they pop up in my inbox and then … Australian producer in debt to U.K. bass-techno, interesting syncopations and effects on the percussion, likely forgotten soon but, like a pricey little treat from an upscale boutique chain, worth it in the moment.
Crow’s Nest readers may note, by omission, that I’m not a big fan of reggaeton and similar offshoot genres. It’s not for me—I find the majority of it to be too derivative, rhythmically and texturally boring for me, like some other genres of recent stylistic note. Then again I’m sure you’re absolutely clamoring for more dance music opinions from a cishet white male American infatuated with post-punk on the subject. This EP from now-Kyoto based producer Rilla keeps my attention though as they draw, stylistically, from reggaeton. There’s a strong dose of futuristic, subterranean sheen you can rely on from a SVBKVLT release, and enough counter-rhythmic detail to keep things intriguing like an old-school non-minimal dance classic. Grab a source of light and some waterproof clothing as you head down to discover what lurks beneath the surface of this release.
So I often write chunks of Crow’s Nest out-of-order or in advance, meaning I wrote the above blurb before I listened to this EP of Australian producer DJ Plead, who’s done a lot to bring Arabic-derived hand drumming techniques in to critically acclaimed dance music, in an experimental reggaeton mode that I like. Of course. Lazily, I hear notes of The Bug in his most dancehall-y mood here (though I should note Kevin Martin did start that project to diversify his white-leaning audience he had cultivated). The psychedelic touches, particularly on the minimalist-patterned closer ‘Skittles’, certainly help appeal to me. Perhaps, as I’ve noted before, it all comes down to texture for me.
Hard-chugging shoegaze-y rock from this trio down under (Brisbane). I’m reminded of acts like Yuck, Magik Markers ironed out into something straightforward, probably some other 90s acts I should know better too.
End of the issue already? Well, that’s issue #43 of Crow’s Nest for you. As always, thank you for reading, and I hope something within gave you some joy or excitement. It doesn’t have to be constant but please do stay in touch.
"For all of the parasociality and isolation one might encounter on social media, Twitter has been a good way to casually meet people and develop or maintain relationships with them, something I as an introvert struggle with."
100% yes to this. It seems weird to use the terms "connection" and "Twitter" in the same sentence, but here we are. And I think this matters to way more people than would ever admit it.