Artist	Song
Controller 7	Stane
Rewind Wonderland	Warm Night by the River
Noxagt	The Hebbex
Iran	San Diego
Threnody Ensemble	Groups
Max Tundra	6161
Anna Oxygen	Fake Pyjamas
Matmos	The Struggle Against Humanity
Prefuse 73	Shitslime Garbage Can VS. My MPC
Nirvana	Montage of Heck part 1
Chris Watson	Cassarina
Lee Ranaldo	The End of Life in America
Xiu Xiu	Bog People
Fennesz	Good Man [#]
Hymie's Basement	Lightning Bolts and Man Hands
Lightning Bolt	Wonderful Rainbow
Pluramon	Noise Academy
Pluramon	P.S.
Centro-Matic	Calling Thermatico
Amina	Fjarskanistan

Comment:

I'll give this to Edward http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendid=17973533
He's a real talented chap. Used to be best friends in primary school and didn't meet again until last year. Would love to trade.

You like to talk about love in terms of digital reproductions
You like to talk about love in terms of percentages.
Looking at you and having no idea who you are
Looking at the mirror and seeing a reflection I wasn't expecting

Take bold steps to describe one's self. Explain one's motives, projects and intentions to strangers. Let's get discursive, eh? Sculpt, mould, invent, chew. Something to sink teeth into, get detritus stuck in your teeth, mental floss.

Write it down. Forget about it. Remember it once more. Rearrange, pull it apart and throw it against the door some. Smash into shards. Rip and tear. Dip into salsa sauce and chew a little. Why not? Hold it in your sleep, why not? Write it out again, see if anyone notices you taking the biggest piece of cookie.
Flower shell melt. Metronome melt. Dazzle milk glow milky everyone is pretty. Party world.
It's axiomatic, baby. I wish you'd take photographs of yourself

I'm amused by fire.
I like wasting water.
It gives me something of a thrill.
I like burning plastic onto foxes.
I managed to hit one a few months ago. He lies next to a gate by a field now, besides a road well travelled.
I like hitting cats with my car, that's my favourite of all, after dogs. Yes.


"I long for the days of disorder. I want them back, the days when I was alive on the earth, rippling in the quick of my skin, heedless and real. I was dumb-muscled and angry and real. This is what I long for, the breach of peace, the days of disarray when I walked real streets and did things slap-bang and felt angry and ready all the time, a danger to others and a distant mystery to myself" (DeLillo).

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