Spectrograph on Lou Reed

by Jeff Gburek Projects

/
1.
2.

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what else to say? the texts for the poems are given as lyrics with each track and the recording details explained there as well.

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released October 29, 2013

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Jeff Gburek Projects Poland

guitarist, composer, improvisor, sound artist, prepared guitar, unprepared guitars, stones, found objects, phonography, electronics, digital manipulation.studied Javanese and Balinese gamelan music, developed as a percussionist studied the theories of Partch and Xenakis while working in the dance/theater/butoh project Djalma Primordial Science.STEIM residency and Darmstadt summer. ... more

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Track Name: Improvised Song for Lou Reed
as far as i can remember:

if and when you die
and you go away
remember to send us
post-cards,
poems, and song-ideas
and stuff
we need
over here

the stuff you made
was great
that's all i can say

but we have to get
on our own
Track Name: Poems for Lou Reed +
Poem for Lou Reed

When I took
last week's wine
bottles to recycle,
I flipped the bin's
lid open -- for it
is hinged, and plastic,
-- and broke
the large glass
of Duchamp
posed there
for disposal.

I tore upstairs
five at a time
and told Karolina,
my love, I've
finished the large
glass; we too
can take it easy.
Please art
and praise life.
All hard work.
She said, let's just
do it. So we
did it, again.

I dreamt I came
into possession
of David Bowie's mirror
the one in which I can
see him in
his many
selves and I too
without question
as only he and she
can be, together.
So now I cover
this mirror over
with thick, black cloth.

Walk to the window
see in the sky
brilliant fading light,
crisp new moon,
and spin the disc
called Transformer
and flip the bird
to no-one at all,
or no-one in particular
least of all Lou.

***

the poet wants to fuck you,
fuck you with poems

the poet wants to eat
a steady diet of prime, numbers
and words, get warm
or chill at will

the blouse with a zipper
and the skirt with one too,
they suck and fuck together.
throw those threads
on the deck.

anywhere you go, beach.
anyway you wannabee:
in old growth forests
or on planets of diamond
in quartz lactation
or crack propagation,
let it get known.

the poet wants to fuck you
(so bad),
fuck you with poems.

***

square on words

the poem
is a pit,
bottomless.
o throw it out ...

o throw it, poet,
& hang up
your phone.

10.29.13. Poznan