Slinkster cool and the slithy toves

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Member Since: 2/9/2006
Band Website: slinkster cool and the slithy toves
Band Members: THE PROJECT FOR A NEW AMERICAN CENTURY FINDS THIS TO BE AN OBJECTIONAL WEB SITE . Jack Lanyard Snood/ AKA/Slinkster Cool/ AKA/poet/revolutionary, Saint...writer of poetry and vocals, a force for good in these weird and twisted dark times. Slinkster Cool: U.S. Marine before the M K Ultra Experiments:"Thanks Uncle Sam! Christopint...player of many weird instruments and maker of odd noises...plays the guitar, bass, bagpipes, tin whistle, harmonica and Irish Frame drum+drunken piano: Check out our film with music and direction by Christopint: Poem By Slinkster Cool....................'We're all mad, here!..A RiVeR Of Lumious Saintliness...by Christopint The quest for other dimensions and truths has always been led by the poets, surrealists, musicians , scientists ,and the truly spiritual: the mystics. One night while having a pint of Guinness at a local pub I became immersed in a conversation with such a person. An immense man with an immense view on life and liberty, an enormous voice with resonance that commanded your attention and a collection of street Poetry that defied any category I formed a vision. Slinkster Cool A.K..A. Jackson was peering over his glasses, Jerry Garcia style, reciting his poetry: it had the resonance of the wind, it hit you in the gut,it passed right through you and hit the next guy in the gut too: it contained enormous anguish and was filled with apocalyptic, surrealist images but it could be playful too, like 'Sharp as a Razor, which echoes the blues. There was humor and sorrow but mostly there was life in his words. These were not made up images or stories by someone who had not lived them,: they were real. A fusion began. I began to hear music, brimming, spilling out but under the words While the rest of the world and nations would sped their time constructing engines of destruction... Jackson and I would create something different. Jackson's voice would be the lead guitar, the lead instrument and his voice would suggest the tone and texture of the music and because Jackson is a prankster of the highest degree it would obey laws set up by Jack Kerouac and Neil Cassidy...the first idea would be the best and we would stick with it. Not easy. We would not concern ourselves with slick perfection. WE would use a sort of Burroughs method of recording where while the poem stayed intact it might also appear later on in another form, sometimes deconstructing itself and flowing into another poem...I would fill my living room up with instruments and grab one and the tape would roll, a bagpipe, a guitar, an acoustic slide, a harmonica a bass...I would then layer the recording trying to follow the groove we had set down...there would be no traditional song form: nuance would be left up to the God(s) the Muse, and any thing could become a musical instrument...the phone ringing, a siren outside, someone knocking at the door. WE would create an audio landscape a movie for which the listener would have to provide the visual. My passionate immersion into a luminous psychedelic state may seem a bit irrational in retrospect but I felt at the time it was neccessary to do in order to obtain the frame of mind, the transcendence I wanted in order to create something different. I entered an intense part of my life. I drank like a poet on payday, I befriended a beautiful girl that became my best friend and we took many journeys into alternate states. Skip Spence, Syd Barrette and Rocky Ericksons, Hunter S. Thompson , Jim and Van Morrison, Yeats, Jack Kerouac, Neil Cassedy, William S. Burroughs and Jackson's old friend Ken Kesey would be my guides. Aside from a few set backs, like me damaging my left arm in an accident and having surgery, our experiment continued. I often played in pain, often I played in a painless state too! Sometimes my cardboard neighbors wondered why there was a blond girl passed out in my front yard and why I was rushing outside with a microphone to record her snoring and moaning. Some people say we are mad. But the voice of the poet comes from the heart of the universe and if the poet is indeed mad then madness is the sine qua non. If he utters nonsense, then nonsense must be the order of all our days. Perhaps we should just go to the mall get tattoos and piercings but the parking sucks there and it would cut into more important expenses...so there you have it...this experiment is not intended for the soulless, efficient work dogs, nor will it be very popular with Britney Spears...as Jackson says,"if we get too popular then we are not doing our job!" Indeed, it is better to be thought of as mad then mundane!} ..
Influences: Henery Miller, ,Charles Bukowski, Frank Zappa,John Lennon,Joseph Campbell,Baudelaire,William Blake,William S. Burroughs, W.B. Yeats,Lao Tzu,Van Gogh, Albert Hofmann,Bob Dylan, Ken Kessy,Picasso,Syd Barett, Skip Spence, Jack Kerouack, Neil Cassidy Jim Morrison and Van Morrison, Philip K Dick, Jorge Luis Borges and Robert Johnson'If you tremble with indignation at each injustice you see, then you are truly a comrade of mine' - Che Guevara. -..

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Sounds Like: href="http://www.myspace.com/marijuanamusicawards" By Christopint: Psychedelic VisionThe inside of a deranged persons skull...Or perhaps we have taken a page from Henry Miller, thus:"The world is a cancer eating itself away....I am thinking that when the great silence descends upon all and everywhere music will at last triumph. When into the womb of time everything is again withdrawn chaos will be restored and chaos is the score upon which reality is written." Heny Miller--Tropinc of CAncer...we wish to reflect the sound of that . bCheck o ut Relix Magazine!
A RiVeR Of Lumionous Saintliness .. A RiVeR Of Lumious Saintliness Christo The quest for other dimensions and truths has always been led by the poets, surrealists, musicians , scientists ,and the truly spiritual: the mystics. One night while having a pint of Guinness at a local pub I became immersed in a conversation with such a person. An immense man with an immense view on life and liberty, an enormous voice with resonance that commanded your attention and a collection of street Poetry that defied any category I formed a vision. Slinkster Cool was peering over his glasses, Jerry Garcia style, reciting his poetry: it had the resonance of the wind, it hit you in the gut,it passed right through you and hit the next guy in the gut too: it contained enormous anguish and was filled with apocalyptic, surrealist images but it could be playful too, like 'Sharp as a Razor, which echoes the blues. There was humor and sorrow but mostly there was life in his words. These were not made up images or stories by someone who had not lived them,: they were real. A fusion began. I began to hear music, brimming, spilling out but under the words While the rest of the world and nations would sped their time constructing engines of destruction... Slinkster and I would create something different. Slinkster's voice would be the lead guitar, the lead instrument and his voice would suggest the tone and texture of the music and because Slinkster is a prankster of the highest degree it would obey laws set up by Jack Kerouac and Neil Cassidy...the first idea would be the best and we would stick with it. Not easy. We would not concern ourselves with slick perfection. WE would use a sort of Burroughs method of recording where while the poem stayed intact it might also appear later on in another form, sometimes deconstructing itself and flowing into another poem...I would fill my living room up with instruments and grab one and the tape would roll, a bagpipe, a guitar, an acoustic slide, a harmonica a bass...I would then layer the recording trying to follow the groove we had set down...there would be no traditional song form: nuance would be left up to the God(s) the Muse, and any thing could become a musical instrument...the phone ringing, a siren outside, someone knocking at the door. WE would create an audio landscape a movie for which the listener would have to provide the visual. My passionate immersion into a luminous psychedelic state may seem a bit irrational in retrospect but I felt at the time it was neccessary to do in order to obtain the frame of mind, the transcendence I wanted in order to create something different. I entered an intense part of my life. I drank like a poet on payday, I befriended a beautiful girl that became my best friend and we took many journeys into alternate states. Skip Spence, Syd Barrette and Rocky Ericksons, Hunter S. Thompson , Jim and Van Morrison, Yeats, Jack Kerouac, Neil Cassedy, William S. Burroughs and Jackson's old friend Ken Kesey would be my guides. Aside from a few set backs, like me damaging my left arm in an accident and having surgery, our experiment continued. I often played in pain, often I played in a painless state too! Sometimes my cardboard neighbors wondered why there was a blond girl passed out in my front yard and why I was rushing outside with a microphone to record her snoring and moaning. Some people say we are mad. But the voice of the poet comes from the heart of the universe and if the poet is indeed mad then madness is the sine qua non. If he utters nonsense, then nonsense must be the order of all our days. Perhaps we should just go to the mall get tattoos and piercings but the parking sucks there and it would cut into more important expenses...so there you have it...this experiment is not intended for the soulless, efficient work dogs, nor will it be very popular with Britney Spears...as Jackson says,"if we get too popular then we are not doing our job!" Indeed, it is better to be thought of as mad then mundane!...the first idea would be the best and we would stick with it. Not easy. We would not concern ourselves with slick perfection. WE would use a sort of Burroughs method of recording where ,while the poem stayed intact it might also appear later on in another form, sometimes deconstructing itself and flowing into another poem, the music would also follow this cut, and splice technique .I would fill my living room up with instruments and grab one and the tape would roll, a bagpipe, a guitar, an acoustic slide, a harmonica a bass...I would then layer the recording trying to follow the groove we had set down...there would be no traditional song form: nuance would be left up to the God(s) the Muse, and anything could become a musical instrument...the phone ringing, a siren outside, someone knocking at the door. WE would create an audio landscape a movie for which the listener would have to provide the visual. My passionate immersion into a luminous psychedelic state may seem a bit irrational in retrospect but I felt at the time it was neccessary to do in order to obtain the frame of mind, the transcendence I wanted ,in order to create something different. I entered an intense part of my life. I drank like a poet on payday, I befriended a beautiful girl that became my best friend and muse and we took many journeys into alternate states. Skip Spence, Syd Barrette and Rocky Ericksons, Hunter S. Thompson , Jim and Van Morrison, Yeats, Jack Kerouac, Neil Cassedy, William S. Burroughs and Jackson's old friend Ken Kesey would be my guides. Aside from a few set backs, like me damaging my left arm in an accident and having surgery, our experiment continued. I often played in pain, often I played in a painless state too! Often Songs emerged , sometimes strange landscapes ...like Marching MOrons...Sometimes my cardboard neighbors wondered why there was a blond girl passed out in my front yard and why I was rushing outside with a microphone to record her snoring and moaning. Some people say we are mad. But the voice of the poet comes from the heart of the universe and if the poet is indeed mad then madness is the sine qua non. If he utters nonsense, then nonsense must be the order of all our days. Perhaps we should just go to the mall get tattoos and piercings, get trendy haircuts, shave our heads and buy our clothes at 'Hot Topics' but the parking sucks there and it would cut into more important expenses...so there you have it...this experiment is not intended for the soulless, efficient work Dogs nor will it be very popular with Britteny Spears.This was the pursuit of the never before experienced experience... And There were several problems I had with this experiment. One was that the good people at my space have a pre conceived idea of how long a song should be and therefore I had to edit things... Out of curiosity I checked out some of the so called post punk clone bands such as ..............................," Check any of these bands out and you'll see what I mean everything sounds like something you've heard before and they have no shame in saying so...it's an exchange of cliche's and they keep it up on every song...I ran into this difficulty too when I first attempted to do Dead Man Walking, Jackson's unusual poem. I picked up a black Fender Telecaster that was tuned to G and instantly started to play something that sounded like Keith Richards...subliminally I picked up on the image of Keith as everyones' favorite Dead Man Walking...as Trey Anastasio once said, Keith is the king of cool guitarists and a master at playing cliches and making them sound as if they were not only new but exist with the past and present simultaneously...a war against cliches in a country like America where the aim is not to be original, individualistic, or innovative, but to please the majority, to standardize, to submit to the major trends, is not an easy battle. I envision a time where America will be represented by one BIG Plastic TIT..."all hail the plastic tit!" A Hindu philosopher once said: "I am very concerned about America. In the East, when we let the unconscious rule us, we have the disciplines and rituals of religion to contain it. Europe has the discipline and rituals of art. The artist gives it shape, meaning, form. But America...?" Well, nations have neuroses. Nations have egos. And, God help us, nationalism. When Punk rock started in the mid to late 60s they were all but invisible and not until the mid seventies did a coherent philosophy appeare : The true punk vision was a reaction against the arena rock of the 70s which had become oppressive and elitist. The clear idea that if you thought you had the talent "then get up and do it, was overthrown by the Vicious and nihilistic who created the inferior noise of imitators a background for the ignorant and bloodthirsty: "overthrow all aesthetics."Beauty was associated with the bourgeois past, with romanticism and wealth. Reality, they asserted, is ugly, which of course is true at times. Beauty and aesthetics are artificial. All art was artificial. The family was obsolete and love did not exist. The original punks were situationialists, and claimed William S. Burroughs as their God Father though it now seems obvious that the posuer punks , which came later, didn't even take the time to read Burroughs or anything else for that matter. But in a country like ours their is plenty to rebel against , a country that stole land from the natives, burned their homes, massacred their children, poisoned their water and souls and became the very oppressors they themselves left Europe to escape. So now we offer them the same thing we get, an education that is not enlightening enough to lift us out of ignorance and still keeps you locked into slavery and dull soul killing jobs...offers you a healthy life style with dirty air and poisoned food and a place to live in the midst of poverty, crime, filth, war, disease and fear? Jobs with wages that barely keep your head above water and often more often then not your about an inch from drowning.... while posuers and would be rock stars and artist's and other assorted vegetable people offer you the same old tired claptrap. Yeah, I think it's a time for a music revolution, among other things...we need to get back to our roots and speak out against unjustice...we need bands like the Clash, the Sex Pistols or even the Old 60's types bands ...we need a John Lennon, a Country Joe Mcdonold , we need people who are not afraid to spek up or write songs that ask questions; If we don't it wont be long until people come to your door about some fine relocation camps and they will have automatic wepons and they will not except checks, Visa or Matercard...sure I like dumb rock songs and I even write them but let's get real people a steady diet of anyone thing aint good for yuh....so wher was I, oh yeah ...I suppose in some ways Jack Kerouac was a big influence and while he was fueled by the hard bop of Charlie Parker and the cool Jazz of Miles Davis our musical influences were Robert Johnson, Skip Spence and Syd Barrett ; we were also (as was Kerouac) influenced by the Abstract Expressionists like Jackson Pollack and often threw notes at our canvas the way you would oil paints.If the Beats were rock and roll in its infancy then we want to return to that experimental age but bring the ghosts of John Lennon and Miles Davis and the talents of George Martin. ...as Jackson says,"if we get too popular then we are not doing our job!" Indeed, it is better to be thought of as mad then mundane! We wish to follow Henry Miller's dream with a sound that is unusual and reflective. Thanks Henry and Hunter and Syd and Skip, and Janis and the Jam bands that follow in this pursuit to go to a new place... href="http://www.bigoo.ws" S
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