one of the most under rated musical masterpieces of the 20th century, a modern book of Ecclesiastes " I said in my heart I will be wise but it was far from me." " All things are full of weariness. Who can utter it?'
The phrasing, pace, tone and delivery so unique. A few listenings early after the release of this recording left me blissfully reeducatateted as to the mystery of art in sound.
he took himself seriously motel rooms had lost their punch for him he opened all his bags there were two and inside those two there were two more its not an easy situation but there was something like abandon in the air there was something like the feeling of the idea of silk scarves in the air there was a kind of madness to it the kind we read about in magazines one of the bags contained a bottle of liquor a sure sign of thoughtfullness about who one mightve been he poured himself a small drink in a fluted plastic glass sans ice he thought to himself "if i were from the big town i would be calm and debonair the big town doesnt send its riff raff out" he sat on the bed both feet on the floor he studied the ashtray and tried to rule out preference prefering over not, prefering but he prefered gravity over one other state prefering in that case earth, the earth as they say prefering some state over non-state now he grips himself with determination even knowing that it causes sadness he is determined to be what he is determined to be serious he had determined once to be serious later he knew that he had made a mistake but too late he had arrived and there were rooms and all rooms were not the same some better than others he thought a better view a better layout better shower softer bed not so far from noise more like home et cetera et cetera very abstract he lifted the telphone from its cradle his determination got stronger, if no clearer, even as he faded in its force were it not for our momentum, the intertia of our actions, the constant inspiration of our habits, we could not continue "the will is almost nothing" he thought to himself at the sound of the first ring he hung up he pushed down the button and listened to the silence of the object in his hands, and then he hung up very dramatic the phone rang immediately, one two three four five six seven he brings this cloud of conditions with him he is at the center of a ball of hot stuff we havent put our minds to yet and sitting on the bed in the hotel room is no different somewhere in another room in range somebody got up and phoned him it happens all the time really a kind of restlessness in that range he sat and thought about obeidence he had resolved out of the two kinds, the kind that takes every message of order, rule, law, has error that everybody who passess along these messages that loathes the buildings that contridicts the inner voice that resists, in short, was his and that the other kind how could it be? he wasnt happy with the world he worked with the forwardness and the backwardness he worked with what things are ahead of us and what things are behind us i guess the other kind would be to work with things that are alongside, the attachments obedience was impossible for him at the same time, he was cooperative and indeed solicitous no one in the world would have mistaken him for a real person obedience, et cetera the other kind works with the things that are of the alongside us, the attachments at the same time he was cooperative the numbers on the telephone the parts of the book the notes of the scale theyre the same, are they not? they come from the sameness of the idea of the outsideness not the alongside the outsideness the differentness it was a problem of being cooperative and at the same time refusing obeidence and carrying the load of the idea of differentness he was he handles himself in the morning its just like for every other man the fantasy is the distance the reluctance, the renaisance, the otherness the fantasy is the uncleaness so getting up gets to be a problem for a sensitive person like him the problem is to run that gauntlet again remove problem remove gauntlet remove run remove is to remove the remove that leave this make this whatever he lights the motel room with a slightly blue body light when he is alone he forgets sometimes to walk he just moves sometimes they touch, somtimes they dont and everything in between as sometimes he forgets to combine talk with thinking and just thinks or just talks especially i think it happens in those rooms who knows why the way it disconnects from whats just outside is predictable, is it not so? it never stops being a mystery we have talked about it when he says hello, you hear a long whining sound which is his voice and the hello it is as different from whatever the way one might remember as a sound a cat would make he is not unusual in this i think he is absolutely uninhabitable a thankless star remove star remove thankless remove a replace with he has a special way of speaking but it seems only to make him more like other men this is one place and here every kid is armed so where you going? hunting? only sometimes we dont see the guns sometimes yes sometimes no the town had always references to down and up down from des moines up from somewhere missed my chance didnt even see it thought it was a threat to house and home why dont you come up to the big town no thanks looking back didnt get the up and down part how could i have missed it? "get a grip on yourself" he said "working against time was another thing" he said "here i am, working against time" the pencil fairly flew as he made out his simple requests for breakfast room service courtesy of the company this is a record i am sitting on a bench next to myself inside of me the words form come down from the tree and fight like a man two gs in eggs this is not a record this is a story i want to say something about myself i am not sitting on a bench next to myself, whatever that means i am a city of habits i am completely knowable in every way i recognize supersition in every form the anger of the words makes me in the dream of myself i imagine there are two men on the bench the exchange between them will not be seen they will not put it forth to be seen and if i make something of the situation, to show a differenece between the two men the difference will distract the true onlooker but the film fogs, you know one g in fogs and add a dish of prunes if they are in season the men are in the park in the small midwesteran town that is, the benches in the park we know from what is best that the men are on the bench they are old by doctors standards the park braces the courthouse of the county the courthouse has about it the simple air of failure an abandoned outpost the park has sidewalks, fences, trees, grass, and a statute of a man and horse at war or ready for war they are alone with their intentions the sculpture has made the horse look stupid the man's jaw is firm the time is late morning in early summer the sun shines in this scene there are two shots the park in all its details frozen broken on the right edge sometimes up to two thirds across the frame by the body of a person very close blurred moving almost rhythmically we have just begun and already we are stuck working against time as they say the camera is obssessed with what it sees the park the ragged edge nothing moves except the edge the edge moves its as if there is no other place his mind races one g in fogs two gs in eggs when the two men spoke, they spoke about permanence and impermanence they noted there were certain things which were impermanent and other things to which the term impermanence did not apply thus they came to make a great division between that which is impermanent and that which is permanent everything in this transitory category turned out to be the particulars of our existence and these were divided into physical, mental, and others which were neither physical nor mental among those particulars that were neither phyiscal nor mental they listed attainment aging and conincidence on the permanent side of this great division of reality was a notion they refered to as space and by that term, they meant neither conceptual space nor space given by our senses they meant connections they decided that such space is irreducible and not transitory and that it exists as long as one is alive they wondered natrually what becomes of it? this impass is no help at all consider his situation for instance, he is expected to be positive and helpful about breakfast in the order of things, it is more important that she know about the prunes than that should the shot should change and what about the problems we have seen in him he is still sitting on the bed, both feet on the floor the small drink in the fluted plastic glass sans ice is hardly touched the phone has just stopped ringing in his mind, the two men are frozen on the bench the horse looks stupid the warrior's jaw is firm incredibly slowly our view begins to slide his idea is that death always takes one by surprise always there is no way to prepare he imagines absolute awareness on the other side he wonders as we all do, how it comes to you that you are dead we were distracted by the fluid right edge there is an absoluteness to surprise he thinks he applies this simple thought to the problem of how to move the shot incredibly slowly our view begins to slide but begins is a problem we are enchanted by the park in all its details frozen broken on the right edge by the body of the person very close blurred moving rhythmically how can it begin to change? how can the beginning go unnoticed? how can we pass from one state to another? is it possible, if one already has a certain experience of life to start directly on the path? or is there danger involved in trying to do advanced practices without having the proper foundation? they came to believe that unless one has actually gone through the preliminary experiences, conclusions may be drawn on the basis of insufficent information and that these conclusions may produce just the opposite effect than the one which is intended in other words, one never knows and so the view beings to slide, anyway, as they say sliding eastward turning eastward the particulars moving left to right across the frame a parade of sorts and it comes to rest, finally on the road the street
The street…that holds the park We are still obsessed We are not relieved This view is no different How could it be Except that we have moved off the body of the person very close and blurred And every edge is wrong And there is some machine approaching Wider than it is high, as they say A pack of motorcycles A herd of elephants A tribe of Bedouins Something from the East Barely moving in a cloud of haze and heat and dust An utmost telephoto Cold and green and flat The idea of the slit The eye of the needle
Let the idea of the needle’s eye going through the slit represent your eyes seeing into the slits of your better future and making efforts to think more about your actions consequences
Anyone have any hypotheses about the men on the bench and the ragged edge. I relate it quite closely to the matrix for some reason. As well as the idea of never knowing when you have gathered enough information to run the "simulation" properly.
1977's Private Parts is his highest rated album by 13 points at rateyourmusic.com/artist/robert_ashley. rateyourmusic.com/release/album/robert_ashley/private_parts/
I actually did end up transcribing it myself, though there were a couple lines I wasn't sure of. Could post them here for review if anyone wants to see
You got it. Took some liberties with the formatting, hope that comes through in the comments (1/?) He took himself seriously Motel rooms had lost their punch for him He opened all his bags There were two and inside those two there were two more It’s not an easy situation But there was something like abandon in the air There was something like the feeling of the idea of silk scarves in the air There was a kind of madness to it The kind we read about in magazines One of the bags contained a bottle of liquor A sure sign of thoughtfulness about who one might have been He poured himself a small drink in a fluted plastic glass sans ice He thought to himself if I were from the big town I would be calm and debonair The big town doesn’t send its riff raff out He sat on the bed, both feet on the floor He studied the ashtray and tried to rule out preference Preferring over not preferring But he preferred gravity over what other state Preferring in that case earth The Earth as they say Preferring some state over a non-state Now he grips himself with determination Even knowing that it causes sadness He is determined to be why He is determined to be serious He had determined once to be serious Later he knew he had made a mistake That too late he had arrived and there were rooms and all rooms were not the same Some better than others he thought A better view A better layout Better shower Softer bed Not so far from noise More like home Et cetera Et cetera Very abstract He lifted the telephone from its cradle His determination got stronger if no clearer even as he faded in its force Were it not for our momentum the inertia of our actions the constant inspiration of our habits We could not continue The will is almost nothing he thought to himself At the sound of the first ring he hung up He pushed down the button and listened to the silence of the object in his hand And then he hung up Very dramatic The phone rang immediately One Two Three Four Five Six Seven He brings this cloud of conditions with him He is at the center of a ball of hot stuff that we haven’t put our minds to yet And sitting on the bed in the motel room is no different Somewhere in another room in rage somebody got it and phoned him It happens all the time Really A kind of restlessness in that rage He sat and thought about obedience He had resolved that of the two kinds The kind that takes every message of order rule law as error That everybody who passes along these messages That loathe the buildings That contradicts the inner voice That resists insure it was his And that the other kind How could it be He wasn’t happy with the world He worked with the forwardness and the backwardness He worked with what things are ahead of us and what things are behind us I guess the other kind would be to work with things that are alongside The attachments Obedience was impossible for him At the same time, he was cooperative and indeed solicitous No one in the world would have mistaken him for a real person Obedience et cetera The other kind works with the things that are of the alongside us The attachments At the same time, he was cooperative The numbers on the telephone The parts of the book The notes of the scale They are the same are they not They come from the sameness of the idea of the outsideness Not the alongside the outsideness The differentness It was a problem being cooperative and at the same time refusing obedience and carrying the load of the idea of differentness He wants He handles himself in the morning It’s just like for every other man The fantasy is the distance The reluctance The reticence The otherness The fantasy is the uncleanness So getting up gets to be a problem for a sensitive person like him The problem is to run that gauntlet again Remove problem Remove gauntlet Remove run Remove is to Remove the Remove that Leave this Make this whatever He likes the motel room with the slightly blue body light When he is alone he forgets sometimes to walk He just moves Sometimes they touch Sometimes they don’t And everything in between As sometimes he forgets to come down and talk with thinking And just thinks Or just talks Especially I think it happens in those rooms Who knows why The way it disconnects from what’s just outside is predictable is it not so It never stops being a mystery We have talked about it When he says hello you hear a long whining sound which is his voice and the hello It is as different from whatever the way one might remember as a sound a cat would make He is not unusual in this I think He is absolutely uninhabitable A thankless star Remove star Remove thankless Remove a Replace with He has a special way of speaking But it seems only to make him more like other men This is one place and here every kid is armed So where you going Huntin’ Only sometimes we don’t see the guns Sometimes yes Sometimes no The town it always references to down and up Down from Des Moines Up from somewhere Missed my chance Didn’t even see it Thought it was a threat to house and home Why don’t you come up to the big town No thanks Looking back Didn’t get the up and down part How could I have missed it Get a grip on yourself he said Working against time was another thing he said Here I am working against time The pencil fairly flew as he made out his simple requests for breakfast Room service courtesy of the company This is a record I am sitting on a bench next to myself Inside of me the words form Come down out of the tree and fight like a man Two g’s in eggs This is not a record This is a story I want to say something about myself I am not sitting on a bench next to myself Whatever that means
(2/?) I am a city of habits I am completely knowable in every way I recognize superstition in every form The anger of the words breaks me of the dream of myself I imagine there are two men on the bench The exchange between them will not be seen They will not put it forth to be seen And if I make something of a situation To show a difference between the two men The difference will distract the true onlooker But the film fogs you know One g in fogs And add a dish of prunes if they’re in season The men are in the park in the small Midwestern town That is the benches in the park We know from what has passed that the men are on the bench They are old by doctor standards Art graces the courthouse of the county The courthouse has about it the simple air of failure An abandoned outpost The park has sidewalks Fences Trees Grass And a statue of a man and a horse at war Or ready for war They are alone with their intentions The sculptor has made the horse look stupid The man’s jaw is firm The time is late morning in early summer The sun shines In this scene there are two shots The park and all its details Frozen Broken on the right edge Sometimes up to two thirds across the frame By the body of a person Very close Blurred Moving almost rhythmically We have just begun and already we’re stuck Working against time as they say The camera is obsessed with what it sees The park The ragged edge Nothing moves Except the edge The edge moves It’s as if there is no other place His mind races One g in fogs Two g’s in eggs When the two men spoke, they spoke about permanence and impermanence They noted that there were certain things which were impermanent And other things to which the term impermanence did not apply Thus they came to make a great division between that which is impermanent and that which is permanent Everything in this transitory category turned out to be the particulars of our existence And these were divided into physical Mental And others which were neither physical nor mental Among those particulars which were neither physical nor mental They listed Attainment Aging And coincidence On the permanent side of this great division of reality Was a notion they referred to as Space And by that term they meant neither conceptual space nor space as given by our senses They meant connections They decided that such spaces Irreducible And not transitory And that it exists as long as one is alive They wondered Naturally What becomes of it This impassive no help at all Consider his situation For instance He is expected to be positive and helpful about breakfast In the order of things It is more important that she know about the prunes Than that the shot should change And what about the problems we have seen in him He is still sitting on the bed Both feet on the floor The small drink in the fluted plastic glass sans ice is hardly touched The phone has just stopped ringing In his mind the two men are frozen on the bench The horse looks stupid The warrior’s jaw is firm Incredibly slowly our view begins to slide His idea is that death always takes one by surprise Always There is no way to prepare He imagines absolute awareness on the other side He wonders As we all do How it comes to you that you are dead We were distracted by the fluid right edge There is an absoluteness to surprise he thinks He applies this simple thought to the problem of how to move the shot Incredibly slowly our view begins to slide What begins is a problem We are enchanted by the power up and down its details Frozen Broken on the right edge by the body of the person very close Blurred Moving rhythmically How can it begin to change How can the beginning go unnoticed How can we pass from one state to another Is it possible if one already has a certain experience of life To start directly on the path Or is there danger involved in trying to do advanced practices Without having the proper foundation They came to believe that Unless one has actually gone through the preliminary experiences Conclusions may be drawn on the basis of insufficient information And that these conclusions may produce just the opposite effect of the one which is intended In other words One never knows And so the view begins to slide Anyway as they say Sliding eastward Turning eastward The particulars Moving left to right across the frame A parade of sorts And it comes to rest Finally On the road The street that holds the park We are still obsessed We are not relieved This view is no different How could it be Except that we have moved off the body of the person Very close and blurred And every edge is raw And there is some machine approaching Wider than it is high as they say A pack of motorcycles A herd of elephants A tribe of pediments Something from the east Barely moving in a cloud of haze and heat and dust An utmost telephoto Cold and green and flat The idea of the slit The eye of the needle
God bless Robert Ashley and the music he left behind on this planet
one of the most under rated musical masterpieces of the 20th century, a modern book of Ecclesiastes " I said in my heart I will be wise but it was far from me." " All things are full of weariness. Who can utter it?'
The phrasing, pace, tone and delivery so unique. A few listenings early after the release of this recording left me blissfully reeducatateted as to the mystery of art in sound.
Here from the avalanches on NTS radio. This is an exciting find
he took himself seriously
motel rooms had lost their punch for him
he opened all his bags
there were two and inside those two there were two more
its not an easy situation
but there was something like abandon in the air
there was something like the feeling of the idea of silk scarves in the air
there was a kind of madness to it
the kind we read about in magazines
one of the bags contained a bottle of liquor
a sure sign of thoughtfullness about who one mightve been
he poured himself a small drink in a fluted plastic glass sans ice
he thought to himself "if i were from the big town i would be calm and debonair
the big town doesnt send its riff raff out"
he sat on the bed both feet on the floor
he studied the ashtray and tried to rule out preference
prefering over not, prefering
but he prefered gravity over one other state
prefering in that case earth, the earth as they say
prefering some state over non-state
now he grips himself with determination
even knowing that it causes sadness
he is determined to be what
he is determined to be serious
he had determined once to be serious
later he knew that he had made a mistake
but too late he had arrived and there were rooms and all rooms were not the same
some better than others he thought
a better view
a better layout
better shower
softer bed
not so far from noise
more like home
et cetera et cetera
very abstract
he lifted the telphone from its cradle
his determination got stronger, if no clearer, even as he faded in its force
were it not for our momentum,
the intertia of our actions,
the constant inspiration of our habits,
we could not continue
"the will is almost nothing" he thought to himself
at the sound of the first ring he hung up
he pushed down the button and listened to the silence of the object in his hands, and then he hung up
very dramatic
the phone rang immediately,
one
two
three
four
five
six
seven
he brings this cloud of conditions with him
he is at the center of a ball of hot stuff we havent put our minds to yet
and sitting on the bed in the hotel room is no different
somewhere in another room in range somebody got up and phoned him
it happens all the time
really
a kind of restlessness in that range
he sat and thought about obeidence
he had resolved out of the two kinds,
the kind that takes every message of order, rule, law, has error
that everybody who passess along these messages
that loathes the buildings
that contridicts the inner voice
that resists, in short, was his
and that the other kind
how could it be?
he wasnt happy with the world
he worked with the forwardness and the backwardness
he worked with what things are ahead of us and what things are behind us
i guess the other kind would be to work with things that are alongside, the attachments
obedience was impossible for him
at the same time, he was cooperative and indeed solicitous
no one in the world would have mistaken him for a real person
obedience, et cetera
the other kind works with the things that are of the alongside us, the attachments
at the same time he was cooperative
the numbers on the telephone
the parts of the book
the notes of the scale
theyre the same, are they not?
they come from the sameness of the idea of the outsideness
not the alongside the outsideness
the differentness
it was a problem of being cooperative and at the same time refusing obeidence and carrying the load of the idea of differentness
he was
he handles himself in the morning
its just like for every other man
the fantasy is the distance the reluctance, the renaisance, the otherness
the fantasy is the uncleaness
so getting up gets to be a problem for a sensitive person like him
the problem is to run that gauntlet again
remove problem
remove gauntlet
remove run
remove is to
remove the
remove that
leave this
make this whatever
he lights the motel room with a slightly blue body light
when he is alone he forgets sometimes to walk
he just moves
sometimes they touch, somtimes they dont
and everything in between
as sometimes he forgets to combine talk with thinking
and just thinks
or just talks
especially i think it happens in those rooms
who knows why
the way it disconnects from whats just outside is predictable, is it not so?
it never stops being a mystery
we have talked about it
when he says hello, you hear a long whining sound
which is his voice and the hello
it is as different from whatever
the way one might remember
as a sound a cat would make
he is not unusual in this i think
he is absolutely uninhabitable
a thankless star
remove star
remove thankless
remove a
replace with
he has a special way of speaking
but it seems only to make him more like other men
this is one place and here every kid is armed
so where you going?
hunting?
only sometimes we dont see the guns
sometimes yes
sometimes no
the town had always references to down and up
down from des moines
up from somewhere
missed my chance
didnt even see it
thought it was a threat to house and home
why dont you come up to the big town
no thanks
looking back
didnt get the up and down part
how could i have missed it?
"get a grip on yourself" he said
"working against time was another thing" he said
"here i am, working against time"
the pencil fairly flew as he made out his simple requests for breakfast
room service courtesy of the company
this is a record
i am sitting on a bench next to myself
inside of me the words form
come down from the tree and fight like a man
two gs in eggs
this is not a record
this is a story
i want to say something about myself
i am not sitting on a bench next to myself, whatever that means
i am a city of habits
i am completely knowable in every way
i recognize supersition in every form
the anger of the words makes me in the dream of myself
i imagine there are two men on the bench
the exchange between them will not be seen
they will not put it forth to be seen
and if i make something of the situation, to show a differenece between the two men
the difference will distract the true onlooker
but the film fogs, you know
one g in fogs
and add a dish of prunes if they are in season
the men are in the park in the small midwesteran town
that is, the benches in the park
we know from what is best that the men are on the bench
they are old by doctors standards
the park braces the courthouse of the county
the courthouse has about it the simple air of failure
an abandoned outpost
the park has sidewalks,
fences,
trees,
grass,
and a statute of a man and horse at war
or ready for war
they are alone with their intentions
the sculpture has made the horse look stupid
the man's jaw is firm
the time is late morning in early summer
the sun shines
in this scene there are two shots
the park in all its details
frozen
broken on the right edge
sometimes up to two thirds across the frame
by the body of a person
very close
blurred
moving almost rhythmically
we have just begun and already we are stuck
working against time as they say
the camera is obssessed with what it sees
the park
the ragged edge
nothing moves
except the edge
the edge moves
its as if there is no other place
his mind races
one g in fogs
two gs in eggs
when the two men spoke, they spoke about permanence and impermanence
they noted there were certain things which were impermanent
and other things to which the term impermanence did not apply
thus they came to make a great division between that which is impermanent and that which is permanent
everything in this transitory category turned out to be the particulars of our existence
and these were divided into physical, mental, and others which were neither physical nor mental
among those particulars that were neither phyiscal nor mental they listed
attainment
aging
and conincidence
on the permanent side of this great division of reality
was a notion they refered to as space
and by that term, they meant neither conceptual space nor space given by our senses
they meant connections
they decided that such space is irreducible and not transitory
and that it exists as long as one is alive
they wondered
natrually
what becomes of it?
this impass is no help at all
consider his situation
for instance, he is expected to be positive and helpful about breakfast
in the order of things, it is more important that she know about the prunes than that should the shot should change
and what about the problems we have seen in him
he is still sitting on the bed, both feet on the floor
the small drink in the fluted plastic glass sans ice is hardly touched
the phone has just stopped ringing
in his mind, the two men are frozen on the bench
the horse looks stupid
the warrior's jaw is firm
incredibly slowly our view begins to slide
his idea is that death always takes one by surprise
always
there is no way to
prepare
he imagines absolute awareness on the other side
he wonders as we all do, how it comes to you that you are dead
we were distracted by the fluid right edge
there is an absoluteness to surprise he thinks
he applies this simple thought to the problem of how to move the shot
incredibly slowly our view begins to slide
but begins is a problem
we are enchanted by the park in all its details
frozen
broken on the right edge
by the body of the person
very close
blurred
moving rhythmically
how can it begin to change?
how can the beginning go unnoticed?
how can we pass from one state to another?
is it possible,
if one already has a certain experience of life
to start directly on the path?
or is there danger involved in trying to do advanced practices
without having the proper foundation?
they came to believe that unless one has actually gone through the preliminary experiences,
conclusions may be drawn on the basis of insufficent information
and that these conclusions may produce just the opposite effect than the one which is intended
in other words, one never knows
and so the view beings to slide, anyway, as they say
sliding eastward
turning eastward
the particulars
moving left to right across the frame
a parade of sorts
and it comes to rest, finally
on the road
the street
!
The street…that holds the park
We are still obsessed
We are not relieved
This view is no different
How could it be
Except that we have moved off the body of the person very close and blurred
And every edge is wrong
And there is some machine approaching
Wider than it is high, as they say
A pack of motorcycles
A herd of elephants
A tribe of Bedouins
Something from the East
Barely moving in a cloud of haze and heat and dust
An utmost telephoto
Cold and green and flat
The idea of the slit
The eye of the needle
thanks for sharing this amazing work of art
Thanks, Mike Rugnetta!
Unique and mesmerizing.
Let the idea of the needle’s eye going through the slit represent your eyes seeing into the slits of your better future and making efforts to think more about your actions consequences
Thanks for the upload.
Anyone have any hypotheses about the men on the bench and the ragged edge. I relate it quite closely to the matrix for some reason. As well as the idea of never knowing when you have gathered enough information to run the "simulation" properly.
thinking of Graham Lambkin and Jason Lescalleet's Breadwinner cover image -- hmmmm
I love you
this is so good
they aren't video for that? ok I will make one
Did you do it?
the big time!
1977's Private Parts is his highest rated album by 13 points at rateyourmusic.com/artist/robert_ashley.
rateyourmusic.com/release/album/robert_ashley/private_parts/
nobody cares
Can't find lyrics for this anywhere. Fuck I might have to write them down myself
The full libretto is published and available from Amazon and others.
I actually did end up transcribing it myself, though there were a couple lines I wasn't sure of. Could post them here for review if anyone wants to see
Ryan Jensen yes please
You got it. Took some liberties with the formatting, hope that comes through in the comments
(1/?)
He took himself seriously
Motel rooms had lost their punch for him
He opened all his bags
There were two and inside those two there were two more
It’s not an easy situation
But there was something like abandon in the air
There was something like the feeling of the idea of silk scarves in the air
There was a kind of madness to it
The kind we read about in magazines
One of the bags contained a bottle of liquor
A sure sign of thoughtfulness about who one might have been
He poured himself a small drink in a fluted plastic glass sans ice
He thought to himself if I were from the big town I would be calm and debonair
The big town doesn’t send its riff raff out
He sat on the bed, both feet on the floor
He studied the ashtray and tried to rule out preference
Preferring over not preferring
But he preferred gravity over what other state
Preferring in that case earth
The Earth as they say
Preferring some state over a non-state
Now he grips himself with determination
Even knowing that it causes sadness
He is determined to be why
He is determined to be serious
He had determined once to be serious
Later he knew he had made a mistake
That too late he had arrived and there were rooms and all rooms were not the same
Some better than others he thought
A better view
A better layout
Better shower
Softer bed
Not so far from noise
More like home
Et cetera
Et cetera
Very abstract
He lifted the telephone from its cradle
His determination got stronger if no clearer even as he faded in its force
Were it not for our momentum the inertia of our actions the constant inspiration of our habits
We could not continue
The will is almost nothing he thought to himself
At the sound of the first ring he hung up
He pushed down the button and listened to the silence of the object in his hand
And then he hung up
Very dramatic
The phone rang immediately
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
He brings this cloud of conditions with him
He is at the center of a ball of hot stuff that we haven’t put our minds to yet
And sitting on the bed in the motel room is no different
Somewhere in another room in rage somebody got it and phoned him
It happens all the time
Really
A kind of restlessness in that rage
He sat and thought about obedience
He had resolved that of the two kinds
The kind that takes every message of order rule law as error
That everybody who passes along these messages
That loathe the buildings
That contradicts the inner voice
That resists insure it was his
And that the other kind
How could it be
He wasn’t happy with the world
He worked with the forwardness and the backwardness
He worked with what things are ahead of us and what things are behind us
I guess the other kind would be to work with things that are alongside
The attachments
Obedience was impossible for him
At the same time, he was cooperative and indeed solicitous
No one in the world would have mistaken him for a real person
Obedience et cetera
The other kind works with the things that are of the alongside us
The attachments
At the same time, he was cooperative
The numbers on the telephone
The parts of the book
The notes of the scale
They are the same are they not
They come from the sameness of the idea of the outsideness
Not the alongside the outsideness
The differentness
It was a problem being cooperative and at the same time refusing obedience and carrying the load of the idea of differentness
He wants
He handles himself in the morning
It’s just like for every other man
The fantasy is the distance
The reluctance
The reticence
The otherness
The fantasy is the uncleanness
So getting up gets to be a problem for a sensitive person like him
The problem is to run that gauntlet again
Remove problem
Remove gauntlet
Remove run
Remove is to
Remove the
Remove that
Leave this
Make this whatever
He likes the motel room with the slightly blue body light
When he is alone he forgets sometimes to walk
He just moves
Sometimes they touch
Sometimes they don’t
And everything in between
As sometimes he forgets to come down and talk with thinking
And just thinks
Or just talks
Especially I think it happens in those rooms
Who knows why
The way it disconnects from what’s just outside is predictable is it not so
It never stops being a mystery
We have talked about it
When he says hello you hear a long whining sound which is his voice and the hello
It is as different from whatever the way one might remember as a sound a cat would make
He is not unusual in this I think
He is absolutely uninhabitable
A thankless star
Remove star
Remove thankless
Remove a
Replace with
He has a special way of speaking
But it seems only to make him more like other men
This is one place and here every kid is armed
So where you going
Huntin’
Only sometimes we don’t see the guns
Sometimes yes
Sometimes no
The town it always references to down and up
Down from Des Moines
Up from somewhere
Missed my chance
Didn’t even see it
Thought it was a threat to house and home
Why don’t you come up to the big town
No thanks
Looking back
Didn’t get the up and down part
How could I have missed it
Get a grip on yourself he said
Working against time was another thing he said
Here I am working against time
The pencil fairly flew as he made out his simple requests for breakfast
Room service courtesy of the company
This is a record
I am sitting on a bench next to myself
Inside of me the words form
Come down out of the tree and fight like a man
Two g’s in eggs
This is not a record
This is a story
I want to say something about myself
I am not sitting on a bench next to myself
Whatever that means
(2/?)
I am a city of habits
I am completely knowable in every way
I recognize superstition in every form
The anger of the words breaks me of the dream of myself
I imagine there are two men on the bench
The exchange between them will not be seen
They will not put it forth to be seen
And if I make something of a situation
To show a difference between the two men
The difference will distract the true onlooker
But the film fogs you know
One g in fogs
And add a dish of prunes if they’re in season
The men are in the park in the small Midwestern town
That is the benches in the park
We know from what has passed that the men are on the bench
They are old by doctor standards
Art graces the courthouse of the county
The courthouse has about it the simple air of failure
An abandoned outpost
The park has sidewalks
Fences
Trees
Grass
And a statue of a man and a horse at war
Or ready for war
They are alone with their intentions
The sculptor has made the horse look stupid
The man’s jaw is firm
The time is late morning in early summer
The sun shines
In this scene there are two shots
The park and all its details
Frozen
Broken on the right edge
Sometimes up to two thirds across the frame
By the body of a person
Very close
Blurred
Moving almost rhythmically
We have just begun and already we’re stuck
Working against time as they say
The camera is obsessed with what it sees
The park
The ragged edge
Nothing moves
Except the edge
The edge moves
It’s as if there is no other place
His mind races
One g in fogs
Two g’s in eggs
When the two men spoke, they spoke about permanence and impermanence
They noted that there were certain things which were impermanent
And other things to which the term impermanence did not apply
Thus they came to make a great division between that which is impermanent and that which is permanent
Everything in this transitory category turned out to be the particulars of our existence
And these were divided into physical
Mental
And others which were neither physical nor mental
Among those particulars which were neither physical nor mental
They listed
Attainment
Aging
And coincidence
On the permanent side of this great division of reality
Was a notion they referred to as
Space
And by that term they meant neither conceptual space nor space as given by our senses
They meant connections
They decided that such spaces
Irreducible
And not transitory
And that it exists as long as one is alive
They wondered
Naturally
What becomes of it
This impassive no help at all
Consider his situation
For instance
He is expected to be positive and helpful about breakfast
In the order of things
It is more important that she know about the prunes
Than that the shot should change
And what about the problems we have seen in him
He is still sitting on the bed
Both feet on the floor
The small drink in the fluted plastic glass sans ice is hardly touched
The phone has just stopped ringing
In his mind the two men are frozen on the bench
The horse looks stupid
The warrior’s jaw is firm
Incredibly slowly our view begins to slide
His idea is that death always takes one by surprise
Always
There is no way to prepare
He imagines absolute awareness on the other side
He wonders
As we all do
How it comes to you that you are dead
We were distracted by the fluid right edge
There is an absoluteness to surprise he thinks
He applies this simple thought to the problem of how to move the shot
Incredibly slowly our view begins to slide
What begins is a problem
We are enchanted by the power up and down its details
Frozen
Broken on the right edge by the body of the person very close
Blurred
Moving rhythmically
How can it begin to change
How can the beginning go unnoticed
How can we pass from one state to another
Is it possible if one already has a certain experience of life
To start directly on the path
Or is there danger involved in trying to do advanced practices
Without having the proper foundation
They came to believe that
Unless one has actually gone through the preliminary experiences
Conclusions may be drawn on the basis of insufficient information
And that these conclusions may produce just the opposite effect of the one which is intended
In other words
One never knows
And so the view begins to slide
Anyway as they say
Sliding eastward
Turning eastward
The particulars
Moving left to right across the frame
A parade of sorts
And it comes to rest
Finally
On the road
The street that holds the park
We are still obsessed
We are not relieved
This view is no different
How could it be
Except that we have moved off the body of the person
Very close and blurred
And every edge is raw
And there is some machine approaching
Wider than it is high as they say
A pack of motorcycles
A herd of elephants
A tribe of pediments
Something from the east
Barely moving in a cloud of haze and heat and dust
An utmost telephoto
Cold and green and flat
The idea of the slit
The eye of the needle
I fly to you in yellow.
wow
were it not for the momentum..
transcriptions?
pdf of the perfect lives Libretto? pls thnx
No pdfs, but you can find transcriptions. Google.
See above
thanks mu
arbitrary nature of language, of thought