geist [im glas]

Music:

Member Since: 8/26/2006
Band Members:

Cagri Kucukay-Vocals
Erol Arman-Guitar
Onur Güven-Bass
J.Hakan Dedeoglu-Guitar
Burak Beyrek-Drums
Taylan Turan-Drums
Ekin Sanac-(ex)-Synth&Keyboards&B.Vocs
Emir Oncu-(ex)-Bass

Influences:
I say unto you:
there's no beginning and we do not tremble, we are not sentimental. We are a furious wind, tearing the dirty linen of clouds and prayers, preparing the great spectacle of disaster, fire, decomposition. We will put an end to mourning and replace tears by sirens screeching from one continent to another. Pavillions of intense joy and widowers with the sadness of poison. dAdA is the signboard of abstraction; advertising and business are also elements of poetry. I destroy the drawers of the brain and of social organisation: spread demorilisation wherever I go and cast my hand from heaven to hell, my eyes from hell to heaven, restore the fecund wheel of a universal circus to objective forces and the imagination of every individual. Philosophy is the question: from which side shall we look at life, god, the idea or other phenomena. Everything one looks at is false. I do not consider the relative result more important than the choice between cake and cherries after dinner. The system of quickly looking at the other side of a thing in order to impose your opinion indirectly is called dialectics, in other words, haggling over the spirit of fried potatoes while dancing method around it.
If I cry out:
Ideal, ideal, ideal, Knowledge, knowledge, knowledge, boomboom, boomboom, boomboom,
I have given a pretty faithful version of progress, law, morality and all other fine qualities that various highly intelligent men have discussed in so many books, only to conclude that after all everyone dances to his own personal boomboom, and that the writer is entitled to his boomboom; the satisfaction of pathological curiosity; a private bell for inexplicable needs; a bath; pecuniary difficulties; a stomach with repurcussions in life; the authority of the mystic wand formulated as the bouquet of a phantom orchestra made up of silent fiddle bows greased with philtres made of chicken manure. With the blue eye-glasses of an angel they have excavated the inner life for a dime's worth of unanimous gratitude.
If all of them are right and if all pills are Pink Pills, let us try for once not to be right.T.Tzara
Sounds Like:
Type of Label: None