'lord of the smoking mirror' was performed live, non-rehearsed and non-stop from sunset until sunrise 12/21/12 > 12/22/12. recorded directly from the soundboard to a two channel (stereo), single track mix. no sequencing software or virtual controllers / mixers were used. all instruments, samples, patterns and effects were played or triggered by hand in real time with midi used only for synching purposes. no overdubs were added in post production.




"dig, if you will, the idea that sound is a verb as well as a noun. process as well as product. the act of performing improvised, repetitive, droning, dubby music for hours on end is our attempt at getting to those head-spaces usually reserved for participants in 'primitive' ceremonies and shamanic rituals. substitute a sampler/beat box for hand drums, delay pedals for bone rattles, and endless cups of herb tea for peyote. let's get unconscious.

'smoking mirror' is the english translation of the nahuatl name for tezcatlipoca, aztec god of the night sky, the night winds, hurricanes, the north, the earth, obsidian, enmity, discord, rulership, divination, temptation, jaguars, sorcery, beauty, war and strife. in other words, everything awesome and evocative enough to herald an all-night-end-of-the-world performance. the performance took 14 hours; pompeii was destroyed in a day.

the cycle was realized on the 2012 winter solstice, an auspicious date, to be sure. released on the 2013 vernal equinox. 52 tracks. numerology. wheels within wheels. whatever credence (or lack thereof) one gives such things, the album/act was certainly one of excess. this, however, is precisely the point. the spaces explored would simply not have revealed themselves in a studio effort or typical hour or two show. to this insider's ear the first half of the performance is amusing and passable, yet around hour five or six, things become curiouser and curiouser. at times, i am unable to distinguish what noises are coming from which performer. the 'songs' begin to breathe. time becomes elastic. sleep-deprivation-repetitive-percussion induced hallucinations flicker back to life. i wonder if any of this happens for the 'casual' listener?

in fact, there may be no such thing as a casual listener of ggc musics. contemporary listening habits seem to run counter to proper absorption of our solution. the practice of chopping albums into easily up/downloaded and digestible segments, the willingness to sacrifice bass response for pocket portability, the ever collapsing attention span of the public; all these things conspire to make the album unlistenable in many quarters. after all, who really listened to 'zaireeka'? who actually likes throbbing gristle? who didn't run to the restroom during 'space'? the punkest stuff johnny rotten ever did were those psychedelic ten minute dub jams with jah wobble. so prog is roots music and the answer to no is yes, complete with the roger dean quadruple gatefold.

dig, if you will, our trip to nowhere. see you in the other sky."

- general grant at the toshi station, midissippi, last day of winter, 2013



 

"20 some odd years ago, The General and I began experimenting with drum machines and guitar pedals using midi strictly as a tempo/synch device (an approach that has not changed to this day). Over the years, gear was added, gear was removed, gear returned, gear was re-retired. I also returned to playing the electric bass from my hardcore / speedmetal / thrash days of the 80s. Our approach allows me to be completely spontaneous with tone and melody as very little of our output over the years has been scripted. Performing this way requires listening intently to what's going on while playing; no map exists. Destination? Unknown.

One person alone cannot create a musical conversation. Over the years, we have become able to extend these conversations longer and longer. 10 minutes? No problem. 20? 30? 40? Sure! Why not do an all night set? Hell, why not do it on the longest night of the year, dusk till dawn? Venue: Clubs? No. They will kick us out when the bar closes, if not hours before. Art gallery? At first they said yes until they realized we were seriously going to make noise for 14 hours....No, we changed our mind, can't do it. Fuck it, Let's just do it for nobody but ourselves. Why not perform this and have no witnesses. No audience, no recording, no evidence . We stuck with the idea of no audience, but compromised with a webcast and a recording.

This wasn't a battle with a clock, this was a battle with creativity. Will I run out of ideas? How deep is the well? Endurance would be the easy part, prolonged spontaneity the challenge. There is but one rule in GGC: never stop playing no matter how lost or fucked you or the music becomes. This was the plan for playing an all-night nonstop live set. Look directly into the well. Dive in head first.

You are listening to a dialog, a bizarre language that evolves only after hours and hours of collaboration. This is only a facsimile... the actual place in space and time has come and gone. 14 brutal hours executed, most recorded (some minutes were lost to the aether; mistranslated somewhere in the passing of the story from the mind to the hands to the machines to the tapes to the ones and zeroes). It was there fellow traveller. It was all there.

Hopefully this document can alter your world for a few hours, as it did ours. Thanks for joining us on this journey, more to come...

cheers..."

-patrick at ground hero, midissippi, last day of winter, 2013