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Thread: The Drone as "religious" music

  1. #61
    Senior Member eugeneonagain's Avatar
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    From the 50-minute mark: O Ignee Spiritus. I heard this performed in the cathedral here at a Christmas midnight mass about 10 years ago. Mesmeric.
    "Mediocrity knows nothing higher than itself; but talent instantly recognises genius."

    Sherlock Holmes - The Valley of Fear.

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    Junior Member poco a poco's Avatar
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    How about this strangely trance like, drone music.



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    Senior Member lextune's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by Merl View Post
    What about bands like Godspeed You! Black Emperor? A lot of their minimalist post-rock is considered 'droning' by critics (usually in a positive respect, I should add). Or is this merely 'noise-rock'?
    Ha! I can't believe that Godspeed You! Black Emperor just got mentioned here. Awesome. I think this album might be a better example of them being droney....

    Lift Your Skinny Fists Like Antennas to Heaven


    ....though I could be biased, since it was the first album I heard from them.

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  5. #64
    Senior Member lextune's Avatar
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    Surprised this hasn't been posted yet:

    Last edited by lextune; Sep-29-2018 at 23:16.

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  7. #65
    Senior Member millionrainbows's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by lextune View Post
    Surprised this hasn't been posted yet:

    I'm not surprised that you missed it: post #45.
    "The way out is through the door. Why is it that no one will use this method?"
    -Confucious

    "In Spring! In the creation of art it must be as it is in Spring!" -Arnold Schoenberg

    "We only become what we are by the radical and deep-seated refusal of that which others have made us." -Jean-Paul Sartre

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    Senior Member millionrainbows's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by eugeneonagain View Post
    From the 50-minute mark: O Ignee Spiritus. I heard this performed in the cathedral here at a Christmas midnight mass about 10 years ago. Mesmeric.
    Mesmeric? In other words, you went into a trance-like state...

  9. #67
    Senior Member isorhythm's Avatar
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    The drone, called the ison, is also integral to Greek Orthodox chant:


  10. #68
    Senior Member millionrainbows's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by Fredx2098 View Post
    I just mean that the rock songs in the OP, The Beatles, The Velvet Underground, etc. are not the next closest thing to Gregorian chant. "Music for a Found Harmonium" is a better example of drone. But when I hear the word "drone", bluesy jam rock isn't what comes to my mind. There are the actual genres of drone and ambient drone.
    I must be older than you. I had to search for the drone where I could find it, before there was a 'genre' or before people defined everything. A drone is a drone, and I saw it emerge with The Beatles.

  11. #69
    Senior Member millionrainbows's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by tdc View Post
    Thinking of drone music this is what first came to mind for me. I caught the Melvins in concert last month, it was a very good show. Its kind of funny thinking of this as religious music.
    Sunflower Sutra - Poem by Allen Ginsberg

    I walked on the banks of the tincan banana dock and sat down under the huge shade of a Southern Pacific locomotive to look for the sunset over the box house hills and cry.

    Jack Kerouac sat beside me on a busted rusty iron pole, companion, we thought the same thoughts of the soul, bleak and blue and sad-eyed, surrounded by the gnarled steel roots of trees of machinery.

    The only water on the river mirrored the red sky, sun sank on top of final Frisco peaks, no fish in that stream, no hermit in those mounts, just ourselves rheumy-eyed and hung-over like old bums on the riverbank, tired and wily.

    Look at the Sunflower, he said, there was a dead gray shadow against the sky, big as a man, sitting dry on top of a pile of ancient sawdust--

    --I rushed up enchanted--it was my first sunflower, memories of Blake--my visions--Harlem

    and Hells of the Eastern rivers, bridges clanking Joes greasy Sandwiches, dead baby carriages, black treadless tires forgotten and unretreaded, the poem of the riverbank, condoms & pots, steel knives, nothing stainless, only the dank muck and the razor-sharp artifacts passing into the past--

    and the gray Sunflower poised against the sunset, crackly bleak and dusty with the smut and smog and smoke of olden locomotives in its eye--

    corolla of bleary spikes pushed down and broken like a battered crown, seeds fallen out of its face, soon-to-be-toothless mouth of sunny air, sunrays obliterated on its hairy head like a dried wire spiderweb,

    leaves stuck out like arms out of the stem, gestures from the sawdust root, broke pieces of plaster fallen out of the black twigs, a dead fly in its ear,

    Unholy battered old thing you were, my sunflower O my soul, I loved you then!

    The grime was no man's grime but death and human locomotives,

    all that dress of dust, that veil of darkened railroad skin, that smog of cheek, that eyelid of black mis'ry, that sooty hand or phallus or protuberance of artificial worse-than-dirt--industrial--modern--all that civilization spotting your crazy golden crown--

    and those blear thoughts of death and dusty loveless eyes and ends and withered roots below, in the home-pile of sand and sawdust, rubber dollar bills, skin of machinery, the guts and innards of the weeping coughing car, the empty lonely tincans with their rusty tongues alack, what more could I name, the smoked ashes of some cock cigar, the ***** of wheelbarrows and the milky breasts of cars, wornout asses out of chairs & sphincters of dynamos--all these

    entangled in your mummied roots--and you standing before me in the sunset, all your glory in your form!

    A perfect beauty of a sunflower! a perfect excellent lovely sunflower existence! a sweet natural eye to the new hip moon, woke up alive and excited grasping in the sunset shadow sunrise golden monthly breeze!

    How many flies buzzed round you innocent of your grime, while you cursed the heavens of your railroad and your flower soul?

    Poor dead flower? when did you forget you were a flower? when did you look at your skin and decide you were an impotent dirty old locomotive? the ghost of a locomotive? the specter and shade of a once powerful mad American locomotive?

    You were never no locomotive, Sunflower, you were a sunflower!

    And you Locomotive, you are a locomotive, forget me not!

    So I grabbed up the skeleton thick sunflower and stuck it at my side like a scepter,

    and deliver my sermon to my soul, and Jack's soul too, and anyone who'll listen,

    --We're not our skin of grime, we're not our dread bleak dusty imageless locomotive, we're all golden sunflowers inside, blessed by our own seed & hairy naked accomplishment-bodies growing into mad black formal sunflowers in the sunset, spied on by our eyes under the shadow of the mad locomotive riverbank sunset Frisco hilly tincan evening sitdown vision.


    Allen Ginsberg
    Last edited by millionrainbows; Oct-02-2018 at 22:51.

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