Nighty Night by 8in8

I'm listening to Nighty Night by 8in8. Ambitious for most artists but I never doubted this crowd. They have the confidence and following to fart through water and still make it into a pleasing artistic endeavor at the mix. Despite their great individual talents they still managed to make something personal, intriguing and creative. It is strange that you can still hear their individual input.

The full story is better explained elsewhere, the short version being they recorded 6 songs in 6 hours, released the album and performed it live in the space of 24 hours. Fleeting art. The zeitgeist of the post modern rock ethic in action.

You can hear and download the album here:

http://music.amandapalmer.net/album/nighty-night

These things stay with me

I remember the cool, dark catacombs deep beneath the ground. The sound of the chainsaw revving and the held breath, listening for the sound of a thrown grenade echoing off ancient steps.

I remember the bright, summer sky and open fields surrounding the vast Egyptian monuments, lush and verdant. A shotgun in my hand and far away the first sounds of a constant scream that remained in my hearing for long after it's owners disintegration.

I remember the first day at work and the sudden, swift fall of mankind. The endless crawl through the ducts of the underground complex, emerging only briefly to freedom before being forced below at the click of gunfire.

I remember the ancient temples of Na Pali, the search for the damned crystals and the never ending conflict of the alien war machine. Those high cliff dwellings will always provide a place of refuge.

I remember the mansion by the sea and the party guests, oblivious, far beneath my ceiling perch. The interconnecting laberynth. The desperate run from shadow to shadow as the metallic wardens plodded back and forth for their Mechanist masters and Pagans talked of woodsy terrors.

I remember the arrival at City 17 and the long, epic voyage ahead of me, crowbar in hand. Nothing will remove the soft wind of the abandoned canals from my mind, or the darkness of Ravenholm, or the echoing snap of crossbow through empty train yards.

I remember the time of waking at the Enrichment Centre, the promise of cake, the hidden office, the empty chairs. The final struggle with the artificial intelligence and the last sight of daylight before the return to sleep. I will return there soon.