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#jah wobble
ourladyofomega · 1 year
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Public Image Ltd. (Keith Levene, Johnny Lydon, Martin Atkins, Jah Wobble) performs live on Old Grey Whistle Test; February 5, 1980.
📸: Kevin Cummins
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sk8rambler · 10 months
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happy birthday to the one and only keith levene !!
keith has always been overlooked, underrated, and misunderstood; however, hes also an amazing, talented, and passionate musician !! there will truly never be another julian keith levene <33
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jt1674 · 3 months
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guerrilla-operator · 1 year
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PUBLIC IMAGE LTD.
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spilladabalia · 8 months
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Public Image Ltd. - Death Disco
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mywifeleftme · 2 months
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348: Holger Czukay, Jah Wobble, Jaki Liebezeit // Full Circle
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Full Circle Holger Czukay, Jah Wobble, Jaki Liebezeit 1982, Virgin
One-off forces-joining of founding Can guys Jaki Liebezeit (drums) and Holger Czukay (too many instruments to get into here) with ur-dub bassist Jah Wobble of Public Image Ltd, Full Circle is the rare “supergroup” album that genuinely does sound pretty much exactly like you would imagine it would based on the C.V.s of the guys involved. This is a good thing: five bass-driven jams that move like a slinky walking down a flight of stairs in slow motion, and one freaky club track that seems like it could genuinely get a room going even on the normal side of town. Full Circle is a much easier listen than basically any PiL or Can record, which I suppose means it’s less “challenging,” but sometimes that’s okay—this is just another chapter in the story of three guys who understand rhythm about as well as anyone on the planet, and it’s a pleasure to have the opportunity to listen in.
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The format is mostly Liebezeit and Wobble locking into a low-key groove and seamlessly developing it over five to ten minutes, while Czukay adds a variety of peculiar noises over top using organ, guitar, French horn, and a proto-sampling technique he called “rhythm painting.” Admittedly, a lot of the songs don’t give the sense that they’re going anywhere, exactly, but I like music that has a ton going on that also seems optimized to become the ambient texture of an experience. It’s the difference between walking through a squeegeed hallway and an alley covered in graffiti—I might not be reading every tag, but moving through all these rugged human details keeps my brain ready for the possibilities of the night.
348/365
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musickickztoo · 9 months
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Jah Wobble *August 11, 1958
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radiophd · 16 hours
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jah wobble / the edge / holger czukay -- snake charmer
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burlveneer-music · 9 months
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Jah Wobble - A Brief History Of Now - new album out today
Famed and revered producer/bassist, Jah Wobble, makes his long awaited return to the postpunk sound that he helped birth in the pioneering Public Image Ltd.! Co-written, produced and performed with Jon Klein (Siouxsie & The Banshees / Specimen) whose guitar work makes him the perfect partner for this project!
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thespliffbunker · 1 month
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saramencken · 1 year
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Via @therealjahwobble
PiL ( smiling)
Image: Sheila Rock
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sk8rambler · 1 year
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screaming into my pillow rn
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bitter1stuff · 9 months
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Time Zone - World Destruction (1984)
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panspanther · 10 months
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Jah Wobble feat Sinéad O'Connor Visions Of You Official Music Video
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musicandoldmovies · 7 months
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Holger Czukay, Jah Wobble and Jaki Liebezeit - How Much are They?
From the compilation album The Best of New Wave Club Class-x
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mywifeleftme · 6 months
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210: Leslie Winer // If I Hit You—You’ll Feel It
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If I Hit You—You’ll Feel It Leslie Winer 2021, Light in the Attic
There’s an exchange at the end of the otherwise useful booklet packaged with Light in the Attic’s career-spanning Leslie Winer compilation that ranks among the most embarrassing moments for music journalism in recent memory. After providing helpful context on Winer’s groundbreaking but obscure dub/trip-hop project ©, British journalist Wyndham Wallace tracks the reclusive artist and ex-supermodel down at her home in the French countryside for a wide-ranging interview about her life and times. Then this happens:
In bed that night, beneath the blue twilight of a frosted skylight, I’d reflected upon our conversations as I struggled to sleep. I was still secretly thrilled that—thanks to an improbably inadvertent meeting a decade earlier, at the memorial for another similarly reclusive musical pioneer—I’d finally come to learn the full story of the woman whose music had first bewitched me over a quarter century ago. I began shaping her life’s narrative in my mind, wrestling with words, trying to come up with a pithy reason why I found her so compelling. In the end, only one term felt appropriate, and even that was woefully insufficient. From my mouth, at least, it seemed ridiculous. But then I imagined how it would sound if she said it. So, as we wind things up, I ask if she’s got time for one more question. “Sure,” she answers cheerfully. “How would you respond,” I say, “to the idea of someone describing you as ‘badass’?” There’s a pause. A long pause. “I don’t even really know what that means,” she finally replies, shaking her head quietly, her face betraying confusion and, in all honesty, what might be a hint of sadness. “Badass: it’s just a… I don’t really know. It doesn’t really mean anything. It’s so overused. Laden.” I’d not expected her to willingly embrace the description. Nevertheless, I’d thought she might see it as a compliment. I decide to elaborate on my definition. “To me,” I say, “a ‘badass’ is someone who doesn’t take any shit, who tells it like it is, then gets on and does things their way.” “Yeah,” Winer drawls, but then she falls silent again. “I don’t just mean in your life,” I add. “I also mean in your art.” Outside, the snow has ceased, and the clouds, the clouds are like dirty cotton. “You’ve got to be good at it,” I persist. “You’ve got to be good to be badass.” At last the ‘endurer’ nods, almost to herself. “Yeah,” she says slowly. “Yeah, well I didn’t have any other choice. Because, you know, I can’t imagine being any other way. What was I going to do? Dumbass lying?” No, I think to myself. You were never going to do that. But when you hit me, I feel it.
Then he signs his fucking name! That’s now it ends! Look, sometimes you make a fool of yourself when you get a chance to talk to your heroes. It’s a totally normal, human reaction. But how blinkered do you have to be to make it your 22-page article’s kicker, to exactingly document that interaction like it somehow gets to the obscure core of the artist’s life that you’ve been driving towards, instead of as the moment you succeeded in pulling your own underwear over your forehead before you were broomed out of her chateau at the earliest possible opening? Imagine, months after the fact, being so hornily fixated on having gotten this woman to say the Pinterest word you jammed into her mouth that it still seems like a good idea to include it. “Nailed it,” you say under your breath, having girlbossified a serious artist in the grimmest battle of attrition the French countryside has seen since the Somme.
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Great compilation though! Thanks to her striking appearance and what seems to have been an inborn Coolness, Winer infiltrated the fashion and art world of 1980s New York and London as a teen, becoming a highly sought-after model before making her way into the record business. Under the name ©, she recorded her first solo album Witch in 1990, though it would be three years before the full LP would see release. In the meantime, a few white label singles circulated in the London DJ scene, making them some of the earliest examples of what would later be known as trip-hop to hit the circuit.
Winer had an art school background, and she brought an intuitive, experimental sensibility to the recording process, crafting echoing, dubby beats out of digitally chopped samples and analog contributions by friends, including ex-Public Image Ltd. bassist Jah Wobble and members of an abortive previous project called Max. Over these innovative soundscapes, Winer holds forth with a stream of spoken word poetry, flashes of repeated concrete details intercut with abstract musings, influenced by her Beat mentors William S. Burroughs and Herbert Huncke and delivered with a Lydia Lunch-style sneer:
The clouds were moving across the sky Filling up with rain Some damn basketball game You can hear the thunder start to say You had to be there, if you know what I mean Old lady Santa Claus screaming at the Kennedys You just hold that thought.
As noted, it took ages for Witch to come out (to limited but intense acclaim), and while she recorded here and there throughout the ‘90s little of it made much impact outside a small cult of critics and collaborators. Eventually, the pressures of kicking a heroin habit and caring for five children as a single mother forced music onto the backburner until a period of renewed activity in the 2010s. If I Hit You—You’ll Feel It is the first collection to span her entire career, including a few previously unreleased cuts, and it shows she continued to find new ways to dismantle and rebuild her style as she aged. “Tree” (recorded in 1996 but unreleased till 2012) combines mandolin, loops assembled from traditional Irish folk recordings, and a light-stepping breakbeat; the previously unreleased “Fragment #2,” recorded with Mari G. Mooney in 2015, is near-ambient, little more than an unsteady beat pattern and a single, sparkly decaying note around her hoarse murmur. Always reliable for an acidly quotable line (“I’ve got a couple of drops of Indian blood / Mostly on my hands”; “I’ve seen you in some stupid fucking outfits in my time / But that one takes the prize”) and a surly gravitas, I will say this in poor journo Wyndham Wallace’s defence: if I met Winer, I’m sure I’d act like a total fucking dork too.
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210/365
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