rfurtkamp

Uncategorized EN ↓ 496 episodes

A bad person with bad guitars playing really outside weird thirty years gone. Are we not men, or free jazz, or weird noise, or just clueless? Your call. Recorded improv-style, pseudo-live (no edits to tracks, either it's good or the whole session is pitched), one pass at a time with old, forgotten gear. Synths courtesy mistracked guitars via 90s Boss snyth bass units (ME-6B etc), stacked glitchy fuzz pedals, and pitch-shifted harmonizing delay. Newer synthy stuff courtesy Roland GR-55 and all the old toys, plus various Roland keys and a Behringer DeepMind 12.$29 LFO-enabled rack delays and ART...

Author

rfurtkamp

Episodes

That moment when she whispered, and then smoke 30.09.2018 4:51

Live September 30, 2018. The things she whispered in the dark, I cannot tell you.

Dominion of the damned and drowned 30.09.2018 4:05

Beware the undertow.

The twin pillars of the world grumble and shake 29.09.2018 3:59

Live September 29, 2018. Inspired by a question I was asked. Fender Hot Rod Deluxe, isolated hard left. Set clean but very hot, my normal "not gunning for clean jazz fakery" or "I won't be using a dirtbox for this but want some hair" Marshall DSL1 with 1x12 closed back cab, isolated hard right. Set "just shy of permanent overdrive", i.e. my normal "clean" setting. Amp settings in photo not what is...

Phantom dance, dead 28.09.2018 5:26

The dead always dance, whiling away the time between the spheres.

Under the hill, a tower waits 28.09.2018 4:36

Oh, how the white stones spark from unseen hooves!

Splendid tales - all lies 27.09.2018 8:21

The very first song I ever recorded, from the 1/4" master that wasn't particularly worthy of the name. This came out of nowhere, and attracted more than its share of interest. I have not made this available in YEARS for contractual reasons, but...it's been long enough.

The terror I have always loved 26.09.2018 6:41

LIve September 26, 2018. What I could have been, I have always been. And she has always been there. Promises kept, again.

A whoredom so vast the void was swallowed whole 26.09.2018 5:46

Live September 25, 2018. With freezing bite, the winter's might spread across the land.

Who will cry for the mother, forlorn? 24.09.2018 4:41

With every season, changes - but who will mourn the mother's descent into oblivion?

The wounds of blistering sands never heal 19.09.2018 6:16

A blast of fire, and the mountain, alight. There is no safety on the mount - no matter the offering, burnt or otherwise.

Slaughter comes in many guises 19.09.2018 5:12

The Voice in the void sometimes must sing. (prompted by discovering that one can load any Source Audio standard size pedal's sound engines into ANY of them and was able to replicate one of my original oddball six-stage phasers to a ludicrous degree, instructions at: https://github.com/cyberbehoerde/Source-Audio-All-in-One-Series )

A blasphemy of kings 19.09.2018 7:08

It is all qabalistic bingo until someone unseats the Queen. Testing the robotuners and preferred strings, awfully loud.

It smoked beyond the thurible glow 15.09.2018 9:20

Live September 15, 2018. Calling up the distant is closer than it would appear. And how they come.

A whirlwind, reaped 13.09.2018 6:10

Automated hells kill all things.

Clinging to that graveyard earth 12.09.2018 4:19

There is a dancer in the graveyard, and not a one dares ask why.

Wine and music of the soul 12.09.2018 5:05

In silence, a rejoicing beyond the wells and the plain.

Dark tornadoes of the soul / whippoorwills dying tonight 10.09.2018 4:39

An apocalypse, contained within striated glass

There is no questioning in the void 10.09.2018 4:28

A sizzle and a saw, undone. She always did know.

The man from the purple mountains could have been 10.09.2018 5:40

Some days you come in from the cold, and tell the story. Live September 9, 2019.

A dying gasp, and a heave into love 06.09.2018 4:32

A shot to the system, never more.

Kill any vandal at the gates 03.09.2018 6:53

Sometimes, one does not breach the walls of the Most HIgh to steal fire for man. Sometimes one just comes to kill. Duet for a one-way ticket to ride the whirlwind.

Interlude: A storm passes 02.09.2018 10:41

What could have been, once. A duet for a bygone soul.

It all dies by the golden-haired man 02.09.2018 8:30

There are things best never seen in the steps of the smoke, and the wake of death.

A mother cries over broken toys 01.09.2018 5:45

Live August 31, 2018. And in the aires, a mother cries over children lost in war. She will never forget, and cannot leave.

Aglow, mountainside home 31.08.2018 5:42

The burn at the treeline continues, and the spirits circle the balding top.