Tuesday, 7 June 2011
Al Qaeda's Toughest Task
But does cutting the head off the snake really matter? Can't they just be replaced by the next militant waiting in the wings?
Not so easily. Although the consensus among experts is often that the deaths of such tactically and ideologically important leaders do not destroy groups, their loss does have an effect. Kashmiri's death will not herald the end of violence in Pakistan or the threat to the West, but it will reduce al Qaeda's capacity to strike. Long-standing warrior leaders are important figures in the ideological clash against groups believing themselves in a millenarian struggle. Bringing the big men down will help accelerate their groups' demise.
Leaders like Kashmiri, who lost a finger and an eye in the Afghan war against the Soviets, are able to provide inspiration through their biographies. His time as a fighter in Afghanistan and Kashmir gave him connections across groups and networks in Afghanistan and Pakistan, and gave him a reputation as a fierce warrior leader. He built this personal narrative and connections into a formidable network operating under the name 313 Brigade, in reference to the 313 companions who fought alongside the Prophet Mohammed at the Battle of Badr, and was named by Masri as the leader of al Qaeda in Kashmir. He was also clearly effective in providing direction to terrorist cells, as shown by his suspected involvement in the May 22 attack on Karachi's naval base (his latest attack on the Pakistani state), strikes in India coordinated from his base in Pakistan, and his ambitious plan to attack newspaper offices in Copenhagen...
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Seun Kuti out with Fury
His father was Fela Anikulapo Kuti; he was a king and president at the Kalakuta Republic.
Being Fela’s (last) son confers royalty on him; the royalty of the Afrobeat dynasty that has refused to fade away in the consciousness of the people who either loved or hated the man, Fela, his ways, his message and his music.
All that he was and ever wanted to be is being amplified on stages across the world with the Broadway show.
Fela was unarguable the most vocal and the loudest musical voice of his generation.
If you grew up and survived on a good ration of ‘Unknown Soldier’, ‘Zombie’, ‘Beast of no Nation’, ‘Shuffering and Shimilling’ and the countless hits that Fela created while he was here, you might want to wean yourself of those staple and listen to the new sound of Afrobeat a la Seun Anikulapo Kuti.
From Africa with Fury: Rise, the title of Seun’s second studio release speaks volumes. But you have to wait and listen to it contemplatively to make a decision for yourself whether dropping copies all over Libya will fuel or bring a solution to that country’s uprising like Seun suggested in a recent interview: “You want to help African people – why don’t you stop African rulers from stashing their wealth in your countries? I think a better way for the British and U.S. governments is to load their planes full of my albums and drop them on Libya.”
The album is a call on compatriots, African compatriots, to rise against the forces that enslave Africa. You will even hear names like Mosanto and Haliburton. You will hear chorus lines like “our ears don full for your words, our stomach still empty” in direct reference to the empty promises of the politicians who are full of words but with little action.
While I sat in the living room of his house off Allen Avenue, Ikeja, a call came in from a certain “big man” who wanted Seun to perform at the grand ball for the president after the inauguration on May 29. Fela’s son refused. “If I go, I will embarrass them and they would have to pull the plugs off the sound and hurry me off the stage. Besides, I think it is a ploy by the Presidency to put money in everyone’s pocket so as to silence them.”
With Seun, Afrobeat has not lost the activism and the thrust to speak up for and on behalf of the masses. He said “Afrobeat is not selfish music.”
Seun has stripped his own Afrobeat off the elaboration and multiple movements of the Fela era and rendered it playable for radio in five/six minutes so that the message can be spread far and wide.
But the horns and the brass still ring through in distinct tones and riffs and melodic phrases to remember. However, it must be said that this is Afrobeat for the modern age or should we say that Afrobeat has found a truly youthful voice for the new age ensuring that you did not see its requiem at the death of its originator.
Brian Eno produced the seven-track album, which was recorded entirely in Brazil.
I personally wanted to see the striking strokes of Lemi Ghariokwu again on an Afrobeat project and Seun Kuti granted my wish with the album sleeve design – a colourful silhouette of Seun breathing into his saxophone and the titles of the track from the album as graffiti on the silhouetted impression of a son who has finally become a man with a voice that will not be ignored in the coming years.
Dafe Ivwurie @'Nigerian Daily Independent'
Classic Albums - Screamadelica (Primal Scream)
Primal Scream's seminal album Screamadelica was released in 1991, and synthesized the band's rock 'n' roll roots with the dance culture of that time; for many, the album's sound and imagery came to be regarded as quintessential symbols of the acid house era, perfectly catching the spirit and mood of the early 90s.
Using rare archive footage and special performances, this film tells the story of Screamadelica and its hit singles and dance anthems Loaded, Movin' On Up, Come Together and Don't Fight It, Feel It. From the formation of the band in Glasgow to winning the first-ever Mercury prize, the band members explain the record's inception with insights from main producer Andrew Weatherall, Creation Records founder Alan McGee and many others involved with or inspired by this joyful record.
Screamadelica both defines a generation and transcends its time, and is a true Classic Album.
‘Father Forgets’ (W. Livingston Larned)
Listen, son: I am saying this as you lie asleep, one little paw crumpled under your cheek and the blond curls stickily wet on your damp forehead. I have stolen into your room alone. Just a few minutes ago, as I sat reading my paper in the library, a stifling wave of remorse swept over me. Guiltily I came to your bedside.
There are the things I was thinking, son: I had been cross to you. I scolded you as you were dressing for school because you gave your face merely a dab with a towel. I took you to task for not cleaning your shoes. I called out angrily when you threw some of your things on the floor.
At breakfast I found fault, too. You spilled things. You gulped down your food. You put your elbows on the table. You spread butter too thick on your bread. And as you started off to play and I made for my train, you turned and waved a hand and called, “Goodbye, Daddy!” and I frowned, and said in reply, “Hold your shoulders back!”
Then it began all over again in the late afternoon. As I came up the road I spied you, down on your knees, playing marbles. There were holes in your stockings. I humiliated you before your boyfriends by marching you ahead of me to the house. Stockings were expensive-and if you had to buy them you would be more careful! Imagine that, son, from a father!
Do you remember, later, when I was reading in the library, how you came in timidly, with a sort of hurt look in your eyes? When I glanced up over my paper, impatient at the interruption, you hesitated at the door. “What is it you want?” I snapped.
You said nothing, but ran across in one tempestuous plunge, and threw your arms around my neck and kissed me, and your small arms tightened with an affection that God had set blooming in your heart and which even neglect could not wither. And then you were gone, pattering up the stairs.
Well, son, it was shortly afterwards that my paper slipped from my hands and a terrible sickening fear came over me. What has habit been doing to me? The habit of finding fault, of reprimanding-this was my reward to you for being a boy. It was not that I did not love you; it was that I expected too much of youth. I was measuring you by the yardstick of my own years.
And there was so much that was good and fine and true in your character. The little heart of you was as big as the dawn itself over the wide hills. This was shown by your spontaneous impulse to rush in and kiss me good night. Nothing else matters tonight, son. I have come to your bedside in the darkness, and I have knelt there, ashamed!
It is feeble atonement; I know you would not understand these things if I told them to you during your waking hours. But tomorrow I will be a real daddy! I will chum with you, and suffer when you suffer, and laugh when you laugh. I will bite my tongue when impatient words come. I will keep saying as if it were a ritual: “He is nothing but a boy-a little boy!”
I am afraid I have visualized you as a man. Yet as I see you now, son, crumpled and weary in your cot, I see that you are still a baby. Yesterday you were in your mother’s arms, your head on her shoulder. I have asked too much, too much.
ViaWell, son, it was shortly afterwards that my paper slipped from my hands and a terrible sickening fear came over me. What has habit been doing to me? The habit of finding fault, of reprimanding-this was my reward to you for being a boy. It was not that I did not love you; it was that I expected too much of youth. I was measuring you by the yardstick of my own years.
And there was so much that was good and fine and true in your character. The little heart of you was as big as the dawn itself over the wide hills. This was shown by your spontaneous impulse to rush in and kiss me good night. Nothing else matters tonight, son. I have come to your bedside in the darkness, and I have knelt there, ashamed!
It is feeble atonement; I know you would not understand these things if I told them to you during your waking hours. But tomorrow I will be a real daddy! I will chum with you, and suffer when you suffer, and laugh when you laugh. I will bite my tongue when impatient words come. I will keep saying as if it were a ritual: “He is nothing but a boy-a little boy!”
I am afraid I have visualized you as a man. Yet as I see you now, son, crumpled and weary in your cot, I see that you are still a baby. Yesterday you were in your mother’s arms, your head on her shoulder. I have asked too much, too much.
(For Spaceboy! XXX)
Reading by Dale Carnegie
Reading by Dale Carnegie
For Those About To Rock The Boat
"We got talking and they said yes there were some certain songs that worked and certain songs that didn't in terms of an actual change in the behaviour of the sharks.
"I started going through my albums and AC/DC was something that really hit the mark.
"Their behaviour was more investigative, more inquisitive and a lot less aggressive - they actually came past in a couple of occasions when we had the speaker in the water and rubbed their face along the speaker which was really bizarre."
@ABC Australia
Shackleton/Vengeance Tenfold - South Devon line
Sounduk is delighted to announce that unique British bass producer Shackleton will collaborate with his original musical partner, spoken word artist Vengeance Tenfold, to present his own distinctive vision of a journey through some very special parts of Devon for the second in our Sonic Journeys series.
In partnership with Beaford Arts and The Dartington Hall Trust, sounduk has commissioned Shackleton and Vengeance Tenfold to create and record an exclusive new Sonic Journey in response to and inspired by sections of two of the most beautiful stretches of train line in the South West – using part of the main line between Exeter and Totnes, and part of the Tarka line between Exeter and Barnstaple.
In partnership with Beaford Arts and The Dartington Hall Trust, sounduk has commissioned Shackleton and Vengeance Tenfold to create and record an exclusive new Sonic Journey in response to and inspired by sections of two of the most beautiful stretches of train line in the South West – using part of the main line between Exeter and Totnes, and part of the Tarka line between Exeter and Barnstaple.
Edge Of England: A Sonic Journey With Shackleton & Vengeance Tenfold
Ariel Pink's Haunted Graffiti - Witchhunt Suite for WWIII
The August 18th, 2008 episode of Talk's Cheap featured a live session from Ariel Pink's Haunted Graffiti. Ariel Pink stopped by the WFMU studios backed by Kenny Gilmore on keys/guitar, Jimi Hey on drums, Tim Koh on bass, and Cole M. Greif-Neill on guitar. Members of this all-star lineup have also played in Lilys, White Magic, Lavender Diamond, Devendra Bahnhardt, Cibo Matto, and the list goes on. This well-seasoned group brought the Haunted Graffiti to life with professional attitude in the midst of their "Thanks Mom I'm Dead" tour.
Engineered 8/1/08 by Gil Shuster
Some post-production by Jason (I ran it thru my tape deck)
Via
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